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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:17:38 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:17:38 -0700 |
| commit | 455c0ceed706ed7195baeeec40037b658d1595c1 (patch) | |
| tree | 4878b673066657868d50120405361e9f442b16cc /68596-h | |
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diff --git a/68596-h/68596-h.htm b/68596-h/68596-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..31ad9a4 --- /dev/null +++ b/68596-h/68596-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14862 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8" /> + <title> + Eustace Marchmont: a friend of the people, by Evelyn Everett-Green—A Project Gutenberg eBook + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> + <style> /* <![CDATA[ */ + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.tdr {text-align: right;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +img.drop-cap +{ + float: left; + margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; +} + +p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + color: transparent; + visibility: hidden; + margin-left: -0.9em; +} + +p.drop-cap2:first-letter +{ + color: transparent; + visibility: hidden; + margin-left: -1.5em; +} + +.x-ebookmaker img.drop-cap +{ + display: none; +} + +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + color: inherit; + visibility: visible; + margin-left: 0; +} + +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2:first-letter +{ + color: inherit; + visibility: visible; + margin-left: 0; +} + +.poetry-container {text-align: center; margin-bottom: 2em;} +.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .indent {text-indent: 2.5em;} +.poetry .first {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} +@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } +.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + /* ]]> */ </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68596 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt="" /></div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontis.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<p class="caption">“‘There he is,’ said Bride softly to Eustace. ‘I think you had better go to him alone.’...<br /> +Without pausing to rehearse any speech, Eustace walked up to the lonely<br /> +figure on the rocks, holding out his hand in greeting.”—P. <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="" /></div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="titlepage"> + +<h1>EUSTACE MARCHMONT</h1> + +<p><span class="large">A FRIEND OF THE PEOPLE</span></p> + +<p>BY<br /> + +<span class="large">EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<p>BOSTON:<br /> +<span class="large">A. I. BRADLEY & CO.</span><br /> +PUBLISHERS.</p> + +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_a007.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + +<table> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><small>CHAP.</small></td><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td> ON CHRISTMAS EVE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1"> 1</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td> THE DUCHESS OF PENARVON</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17"> 17</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td> THE HOUSE OF MOURNING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32"> 32</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td><td> THE DUKE’S HEIR</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_48"> 48</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td><td> MAN OF THE WORLD AND MYSTIC     </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_63"> 63</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VI.</td><td> THE GOSPEL OF DISCONTENT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78"> 78</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VII.</td><td> THE KINDLED SPARK</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_94"> 94</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VIII.</td><td> BRIDE’S PERPLEXITIES</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_111"> 111</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">IX.</td><td> THE WAVE OF REVOLT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_129"> 129</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">X.</td><td> A STRANGE NIGHT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_145"> 145</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XI.</td><td> DUKE AND DEFAULTER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_160"> 160</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XII.</td><td> AUTUMN DAYS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_176"> 176</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XIII.</td><td> TWO ENCOUNTERS </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_193"> 193</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XIV.</td><td> EUSTACE’S DILEMMA</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_209"> 209</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XV.</td><td> STIRRING DAYS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225"> 225</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVI.</td><td> THE POLLING AT PENTREATH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_242"> 242</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVII.</td><td> THE DUKE’S CARRIAGE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_258"> 258</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII.</td><td> ABNER’S PATIENT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_274"> 274</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XIX.</td><td> THE BULL’S HORNS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_289"> 289</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XX.</td><td> BRIDE’S VIGIL</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_307"> 307</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXI.</td><td> FROM THE DEAD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_322"> 322</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXII.</td><td> SAUL TRESITHNY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_337"> 337</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXIII.</td><td> BRIDE’S PROPOSAL</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_353"> 353</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXIV.</td><td> CONCLUSION</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_368"> 368</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_a008.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b001a.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<p class="ph2">EUSTACE MARCHMONT</p> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br /> + +<i>ON CHRISTMAS EVE</i></h2> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="first">“Yer’s tu thee, old apple-tree,</div> +<div class="verse">Be zure yu bud, be zure yu blaw,</div> +<div class="verse">And bring voth apples gude enough</div> +<div class="indent">Hats vul! caps vul!</div> +<div class="verse">Dree bushel bags vul!</div> +<div class="verse">Pockets vul and awl!</div> +<div class="indent">Urrah! Urrah!</div> +<div class="verse">Aw ’ess, hats vul, caps vul!</div> +<div class="verse">And dree bushel bags vul!</div> +<div class="indent">Urrah! Urrah! Urrah!”</div> +</div></div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b001t.jpg" alt="T" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THIS strange uncouth song was being chanted by +moonlight by two score or more of rough West-Country +voices. For half-a-mile the sound was +carried by the sea-breeze, and all the cottagers +within hearing of the chant had run forth to join, both in +the song and in the ceremony which it marked.</p> + +<p>For it was Christmas Eve, and Farmer Teazel was +“christening his apple-trees,” according to the time-honoured +custom of the place. And when the trees were +being thus christened, there was cider to be had for the +asking; and the farmer’s cider was famed as being the best +in all St. Bride’s, or indeed in any of the adjacent parishes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>The moon shone frostily bright in a clear dark sky. A +thin white carpet of sparkling frost coated the ground; +but the wind blew from the west over the rippling sea, +and was neither cruel nor fierce, so that even little children +were caught up by their mothers to assist at this +yearly ceremony; and Farmer Teazel’s orchard had, by +ten o’clock, become the centre of local attraction, fully a +hundred voices swelling the rude chant as the largest +and best trees in the plantation were singled out as the +recipients of the peculiar attentions incident to the +ceremony.</p> + +<p>First, copious libations of cider were poured round the +roots of these trees, whilst large toast sops were placed +amid the bare branches; all this time the chant was sung +again and again, and the young girls and little children +danced round in a ring, joining their shriller voices with +the rougher tones of the men. The cider can that supplied +the trees with their libations passed freely amongst the +singers, whose voices grew hoarse with something beyond +exercise.</p> + +<p>When the serenading and watering had been sufficiently +accomplished, guns were fired through the branches of the +chosen trees, and the company broke up, feeling that now +they had done what was necessary to ensure a good crop +of cider-apples for the ensuing year.</p> + +<p>But whilst the singing and drinking was at its height, +and the moon gazed calmly down upon the curious assembly +beneath the hoary old trees in the farmer’s orchard, a keen +observer might have noted a pair of figures slightly withdrawn +from the noisy throng around the gnarled trees +that were receiving the attentions of the crowd—a pair +that gravitated together as if by mutual consent, and stood +in a sheltered nook of the orchard; the man leaning against +the rude stone wall which divided it from the farm buildings +of one side, the girl standing a few paces away from +him beside a sappling, her face a little bent, but a look of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> +smiling satisfaction upon her red lips. She was clasping +and unclasping her hands in a fashion that bespoke something +of nervous tremor, but that it was the tremor of +happiness was abundantly evident from the expression of +her face.</p> + +<p>The moon shone clearly down upon the pair, and perhaps +gave a touch of additional softness and refinement +to them, for at that moment both appeared to the best +advantage, and looked handsome enough to draw admiring +regards from even fastidious critics.</p> + +<p>The man was very tall, and although he was habited in +the homely garb of a farm labourer of the better sort, +there was a something in his air and carriage which often +struck the onlooker as being different from the average +man of his class. If he had been a gentleman, his mien +would have been pronounced “distinguished;” but there +was something incongruous in applying such a term as +that to a working man in the days immediately prior to +the Reform agitation of 1830. If the artisan population +of the Midlands had begun to recognise and assert their +rights as members of the community, entitled at least to +be regarded as having a voice in the State (though how +that was to be accomplished they had hardly formulated +an opinion), the country labourer was still plunged in his +ancient apathy and indifference, regarding himself, and +being regarded, as little more than a serf of the soil. +The years of agricultural prosperity during the Great War +had been gradually followed by a reaction. Whilst trade +revived, agriculture was depressed; and the state of the +labourers in many places was very terrible. Distress and +bitter poverty prevailed to an extent that was little known, +because the sufferers had no mouthpiece, and suffered in +silence, like the beasts of the field. But a growing sense +of sullen discontent was slowly permeating the land, and +in the restless North and the busy Midlands there was a +stirring and a sense of coming strife which had not yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> +reached the quiet far West. And here was this young +son of Anak, with the bearing of a prince and the garb of +a labourer, standing beside the farmer’s daughter, Genefer, +and telling her of his love.</p> + +<p>Although he was but one of the many men who worked +by day for her father, and slept at night in a great loft +above the kitchen, in common with half-a-dozen more +men so employed, yet Genefer was listening to his words +of love with a sense of happy triumph in her heart, and +without the smallest feeling of condescension on her part. +Possibly her father might have thought it presumptuous +of the young man thus boldly to woo his only daughter; +and yet the girl did not feel much afraid of any stern +parental opposition; for Saul Tresithny, in spite of a history +that to many men would have been a fatal bar towards +raising himself, had acquired in the parish of St. Bride’s +a standing somewhat remarkable, and was known upon +the farm as the handiest and most capable, as well as the +strongest man there, and one whom the farmer especially +favoured.</p> + +<p>Genefer was the farmer’s only daughter, and had to +work as hard as either father or brothers, for since her +mother’s death, a year or two ago, the whole management +of the dairy and of the house had passed into her hands, +and she had as much to do in the day as she could get +through. Perhaps it was from the fact that Saul was +always ready to lend a helping hand when her work was +unwontedly pressing, and that he would work like a fury +at his own tasks by day in order to have a leisure hour +to lighten her labours towards supper-time, that she had +grown gradually to lean on him and feel that life without +him would be but a barren and desolate sort of existence. +Her brothers, ’Siah and ’Lias, as they were invariably +called, were kind to her in their own fashion, and so was +her father, who was proud of her slim active figure, her +pretty face, and crimpy dark hair. West-Country women<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> +are proverbially good to look at, and Genefer was a +favourable specimen of a favoured race. Her eyes were +large and bright, and of a deep blue tint; her skin was +clear, and her colour fresh and healthy, and the winter +winds and summer suns had failed to coarsen it. She +was rather tall, and her figure was full of unconscious +grace and activity. If her hands were somewhat large, +they were well shaped and capable, and her butter, and +cream, and bread were known far and wide for their +excellence. She had a woman and a girl to help her in +the house, but hers was the head that kept all going in +due order, and her father had good cause to be proud +of her.</p> + +<p>And now young Saul stood beside the old grey wall +in the light of the full moon, and boldly told her of his +love.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be a gude husband to yu if yu’ll have me, Genefer,” +he said in the soft broad speech of his native place, +though Saul could speak if he chose without any +trace of dialect, albeit always with a subtle intonation, +which gave something of piquancy to his words. “I +du lovee rarely, my girl. Doee try to love me back. +I’ll serve day and night for yu if thee’ll but say the +word.”</p> + +<p>“What word am I to zay, Zaul?” asked the girl softly, +with a shy upward look that set all his pulses tingling. +“Yu du talk so much, I am vair mazedheaded with it all. +What is it yu would have me zay to thee?”</p> + +<p>“Only that yu love me, Genefer,” answered Saul, taking +a step forward, and possessing himself of one of the restless +hands that fluttered in his grasp, and then lay still, as +if content to be there. “It’s such a little word for yu to +zay, yet it means such a deal to me.”</p> + +<p>She let herself be drawn nearer and nearer to him as +he spoke; but there was still a look of saucy mischief in +her eyes, despite their underlying softness.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>“Yu be such a masterful chap, Zaul, I du feel half +afeared on ye. It’s all zoft talk now, but the clapper-claw +come afterwards.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, lassie, I’ll never clapper-claw yu. Yu needen +be afeared of that. I’ll work for yu, and toil for yu, and +yu shall be as happy as I can make yu. Only say yu +can love me, Genefer. That is all I care to hear yu say +to-night.”</p> + +<p>He had drawn her close to his side by this time, and +she was pressed to his heart. He bent his head and +kissed her on the lips, and only when a few minutes had +passed by, of which they kept no count, did the sudden +salvo of the guns cause them to start suddenly apart, and +Genefer exclaimed, almost nervously—</p> + +<p>“Whatever will vaither zay?”</p> + +<p>“Du yu think he will make a bobbery about it, +Genefer?”</p> + +<p>“Nay, I dwon’t know. He is fond of yu, Zaul, but I +du not think he will part easy with me; and then——”</p> + +<p>“I du not ask that of him, Genefer,” broke in Saul +quickly; “yu du know that I have no home tu take yu +tu yet. It’s the love I want to make sure of now, lassie. +If I know I have your heart, I can wait patiently for the +rest. Can yu be patient tu?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, Zaul, so as I know yu love me,” answered the +girl with a quick blush; “dwon’t yu think that is enow +for the present? Why need we speak to vaither about +it at all? May be it mid anger un. Why shouldn’t we +keep it a secret betwixt us twain?”</p> + +<p>“With all my heart, if yu will have it so,” answered +Saul, who was fully prepared to wait many years before +he should be in a position to marry. That he would one +day be a man of some small substance as things went in +those parts, he was aware. But his grandfather, from +whom he looked to receive this modest heritage, was yet a +hale man, and it might not be his for some years to come.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> +Meantime he had at present no ideas beyond working on +with Farmer Teazel, as he had done since his boyhood, +and it quite satisfied him to feel that he had won Genefer’s +heart. He was ready to let this mutual avowal of +love remain a secret between them for the present. He +had of late been consumed with jealousy of a certain +smart young farmer, who paid frequent visits to the Cliff +Farm, and appeared to pay a great amount of attention +to the pretty daughter who ruled there. It did not take +two eyes to see what a treasure Genefer would be as a +farmer’s wife, and Saul was afraid the girl’s father had +begun to look with favour upon the visits of young Mr. +Hewett. It was this fear which made him resolve to put +his fate to the touch on this particular Christmas Eve. He +half believed that his love was returned by Genefer, but +he could no longer be satisfied with mere hope. He must +be certain how things were to be between them in the +future; but having been so satisfied, he was quite content +to leave matters where they were, and not provoke any +sort of tempest by openly letting it be known that he +had aspired to the hand of his master’s daughter. He +knew that his present position did not warrant the step +he had taken, yet it was his nature to hazard all upon one +throw, and this time he had won. He feared no tempest +himself, but he would have been loth to provoke one that +might have clouded Genefer’s life, and Farmer Teazel +could be very irascible when angered, and by no means +good to live with then.</p> + +<p>Whilst the lovers were thus standing in the corner of the +orchard, exchanging vows of constancy which meant more +than their quiet homely phrases seemed to imply, an +elderly man with a slight stoop in his tall figure and a +singularly thoughtful and attractive face, was coming +slowly up the long steep slope of down which led to the +farm, guided alike by the brilliance of the moonbeams +and by the voices singing the rude chant round the apple-trees.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> +That he was a man occupying a humble walk in +life was evident from the make and texture of his garments, +the knotted hardness of his hands, and other more +subtle and less definable indications; but the moonlight +shone down upon a face that riveted attention from any +but the most unobservant reader of physiognomy, and +betrayed at once a man of unusual thoughtfulness for his +walk in life, as well as of unwonted depth of soul and +purity of character. The face was quite clean shaven, as +was common in those times, when beards were regarded +as indicative of barbarism in the upper classes, and were +by no means common in any rank of life save that of seafaring +men. The features were, however, very finely cut, and +of a type noble in themselves, and farther refined by individual +loftiness of soul. The brow was broad, and projected +over the deep-set eyes in a massive pent-house; the nose +was long and straight, and showed a sensitive curve at the +open nostril; the mouth was rather wide, but well formed, +and indicative of generosity and firm sweetness; the +eyes were calm and tranquil in expression. The colour it +was impossible to define: no two people ever agreed +upon the matter. They looked out upon the world from +their deep caverns with a look that was always gentle, +always full of reflection and questioning intelligence, but +was expressive above all of an inward peace so deep and +settled that no trouble from without could ruffle it. +Children always came to his side in response to a look +or a smile; women would tell their troubles to Abner +Tresithny, whose lips were sealed to all the world beside. +There was something in the man, quiet though he was, +that made him a power in his own little world, and yet he +had never dreamed of seeking power. He was at once +the humblest and the most resolute of men. He would +do the most menial office for any person, and see no +degradation in it; he was gentle as a woman and mild as +a little child: yet once try to move him beyond the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> +bounds he had set himself in life, and it would be as easy +to strive to move that jagged reef of rocks guarding St. +Bride’s Bay on the south side—the terror of hapless vessels +driven in upon the coast—the safeguard and joy of the +hardy smugglers who fearlessly drove their boats across +it with the falling tide, and laughed to scorn the customs-house +officers, who durst not approach that line of boiling +foam in their larger craft.</p> + +<p>Abner Tresithny had grown up at St. Bride’s Bay, and +was known to every soul there and in the neighbouring +parish of St. Erme, where Farmer Teazel’s farm lay. +Perhaps no man was more widely beloved and respected +than he, and yet he was often regarded with a small spice +of contempt—especially amongst the men-folk; and those +who were fullest of the superstitions of the time and +locality were the readiest to gibe at the old gardener as +being a “man of dreams and fancies”—a mystic, they +might have called it, had the word been familiar to them—a +man who seemed to live in a world of his own, who +knew his Bible through from end to end a sight better +than the parson did—leastways the parson of St. Bride’s—and +found there a vast deal more than anybody else in +the place believed it to contain.</p> + +<p>To-night an unwonted gravity rested upon Abner’s +thoughtful face—a shadow half of sorrow, half of triumphant +joy, difficult to analyse; and sometimes, as he paused +in the long ascent and wiped the moisture from his brow, +his eyes would wander towards the sea lying far below, +over which the moon was shining in misty radiance, +marking a shimmering silver track across it from shore to +horizon, and he would say softly to himself—</p> + +<p>“And she will soon know it all—all the mysteries we +have longed to penetrate. All will be known so soon to +her. God be with her! The Lord Jesus be near her in +His mercy and His love in that struggle! O my God, do +Thou be near her in that last hour, when flesh and heart<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> +do fail! Let not her faith be darkened! Let not the +enemy prevail against her! Do Thou be very very near, +dear Lord. Do Thou receive her soul into Thy hands.”</p> + +<p>And after some such softly breathed prayer, during +which his eyes would grow dim and his voice husky, he +would turn his face once more towards the upland farm +and resume his walk thither.</p> + +<p>The firing of the guns, which told him the ceremony +was over, met his ears just as he reached the brow of the +hill, and he began to meet the cottagers and fisher-folk +streaming away. They all greeted him by name, and he +returned their greetings gently: but he could not refrain +from a gentle word of reproof to some whose potations +had been visibly too deep, and who were still roaring their +foolish chant as they staggered together down the slippery +slope.</p> + +<p>Abner was known all round as an extraordinary man, +who, whilst believing in an unseen world lying about us +as no one else in the community did, yet always set his +face quietly and resolutely against these time-honoured +customs of propitiating the unseen agencies, which formed +such a favourite pastime in the whole country. It was a +combination altogether beyond the ken of the rustic +mind, and encircled Abner with a halo of additional +mystery.</p> + +<p>“Yu should be to home with your sick wife, Nat,” he +said to one man who was sober, but had plainly been +enjoying the revel as much as the rest. “What good +du yu think can come of wasting good zyder over the +trees, and singing yon vulish song to them? Go +home to your sick wife and remember the true Christmas +joy when the morrow comes. All this is but idle +volly.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay, maister,” answered the man, with sheepish +submission in his tone, albeit he could not admit any folly +in the time-honoured custom. “Yu knaw farmer he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> +wants a ’bundant craap of awples next year, an we awl of +us knaw tha’ the trees widden gi’ us a bit ef we didden +holler a bit tu ’m the night.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay, Nat, it’s not your hollering that makes the +trees give of their abundance,” answered Abner, with +gentle sadness in his tone. “It’s the abiding promise of +the Lord that seed-time and harvest shall not vail. Go +home, go home, and mind thy wife.”</p> + +<p>“Ay, ay, maister, I’m gwoan,” answered the man, and +beat a hasty retreat, secretly wondering whether one of +these days the black witches wouldn’t “overlook” Abner’s +house and affairs generally, since he was known for a man +of such peculiar views. The Duke’s head-gardener was +looked upon with considerable respect by the mere +labourers, and always addressed as “maister” by them. +He came of a good stock himself; and from having +been so much with the “quality,” he could speak pure +English as easily as the Saxon vernacular of the peasantry. +It was constant conversation with him which had given to +Saul his command of language. From the time of his +birth till he began to earn his own bread, Saul had lived +with his grandfather; and it had been a disappointment +to the old man that his grandson had refused the place of +garden boy offered him by the Duchess when he was old +enough to be of use on the place. Before that he had +scared birds for Farmer Teazel, and had done odd jobs +about the farm; and to the surprise of all who knew the +prestige and advantages attached to the service of the +Duke, the lad had elected to continue a servant of the +farmer rather than work in the ducal gardens. The +grandfather had not attempted to coerce his grandson, but +had let him follow his own bent, although he thought he +was making a mistake, and was perplexed and pained by +his independent attitude.</p> + +<p>“He wants to get away from the old ’un—he can’t +stand all that preachin’ and prayin’,” had been the opinion<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> +in some quarters; but Abner knew this was not the case. +His grandson had always been attached to him, and the +old man had never obtruded his own opinions upon him. +Saul’s reason for his decision lay beyond any natural desire +for an independent home of his own. He had independence +of a kind up at the farm, but only of a kind. He +was a member of Farmer Teazel’s household. He had to +keep the hours observed there. He had not nearly +such comfortable quarters there as in his grandfather’s +cottage. He had to work hard early and late, and +had none of the privileges accorded from time to time +on high days and holidays to the servants at Penarvon +Castle. Yet he never appeared to regret the decision +he had made, or spoke of desiring to change his condition. +This was in one way a satisfaction to Abner; +but he missed the youth from his own home, and was +always glad of an excuse to get him down there for a +few days.</p> + +<p>This was, in fact, the reason of his errand to the farm +on this winter evening. To-morrow (Christmas Day) no +work would be done, and the day following was Sunday; +so that if Saul would come home with him to-night they +would have quite a little spell together before he had to +return to his work on the Monday morning.</p> + +<p>The farmer saw his approach, and hailed him with +friendly greeting, offering him a tankard of cider, of +which the old man partook sparingly, as was his way.</p> + +<p>“How gwoes the world down to St. Bride’s?” asked +the master, as he received back the tankard and put it to +his own lips. “They du say as the Duchess be mortal +bad. Is it trew that the doctors ’a given her oop, poor +zoul?”</p> + +<p>Abner shook his head mournfully.</p> + +<p>“So they du zay,” he answered; “I asked at the castle +my own self this even, and they said she could scarce +live over the night. St. Bride will lose a kind friend<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> +when it loses her. God be with her and with us all this +night!”</p> + +<p>Faces were grave and serious as the sense of Abner’s +words penetrated beyond the immediate circle round him. +The Duchess of Penarvon had been long ill: for several +years she had been more or less of an invalid; but it +had not been known until quite recently that the nature +of her malady was so serious as it had now proved to +be, and the confirmation of the tidings of her extremity +was received with a considerable amount of feeling. The +Duke was a stern grave man, just and not unkindly, but +self-restrained and hard in his looks and words, whatever +his acts might be. But the Duchess was gentle and +kindly towards rich and poor alike, and had a personal +acquaintance with most of the fisher-folk and cottagers in +the parishes of St. Bride and St. Erme. If those who +were in trouble could obtain speech with the Duchess, +they nearly always went rejoicing home again. If any +casualty occurred amongst the fisher-folk in the bay +during a winter storm, the Duchess was almost sure to +send substantial aid to make up the loss. It was no +wonder then that the news Abner brought with him was +regarded as a public calamity, and that even those who +had drunk most deeply of the farmer’s cider were sobered +into gravity and propriety of demeanour by the thought +of what was passing at the castle down by the Bay of +St. Bride.</p> + +<p>“I came to fetch Saul to bide with me till Monday,” +explained Abner. “It makes a bit of company, and my +heart is heavy with sorrow for them all. They say that +Lady Bride looks as if her heart was breaking. She and +her mother have been together almost by night and day, +ever since the Duchess’s health first failed her so sadly. +It’ll be a sad day for her, poor young thing, when her +mother is taken from her.”</p> + +<p>“Ay, that it will be,” answered one and another, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> +heads were gravely shaken. For the position of Lady +Bride in stately solitude at Penarvon Castle, without the +sheltering protection of her mother’s love, was felt even by +these unimaginative rustics to be a trying one. It was +whispered around that her father had never quite forgiven +her for not being a boy. It was hard upon him that +their only child should be a girl, incapable of inheriting +title or estates. He was not a violent or irascible man, +but the disappointment of having no son had eaten deeply +into his nature, and there had always been a sense of +injured disapproval in his dealings with his daughter, of +which that sensitive young thing had been keenly conscious. +It had thrown her more and more upon the one +parent of whose love she felt secure, and even the unlettered +village hinds (who knew a good deal of the tittle-tattle +of the servants’ hall) could stand mute and struck +for a few minutes in contemplating the thought of the +terrible blank that would be left in the girl’s life when +her invalid mother was taken away.</p> + +<p>But Abner would not stay to discuss the situation with +the farmer and his family. He was anxious to get home, +and Saul was quickly found, and appeared ready and +willing to go with him. Saul indeed was not sorry just +at this juncture for a good excuse to leave the farm for a +few days till he and Genefer had had time to get used to +the secret that now existed between them. Genefer was +quite as much relieved as her lover at this temporary +parting. She felt that she should in his presence be in +imminent danger of betraying herself a dozen times a +day; and as her father would be at home enjoying his +brief holiday, he might have leisure to note little symptoms +which would pass him by on a working day. Moreover, +Mr. Hewett might very likely drive over and bring her +some sort of a fairing in honour of the season, and if he +did so, and she was forced to be civil and friendly to him, +she would just as soon have Saul fairly out of the way.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>Grandfather and grandson walked down the hill together, +the old man’s mind full of the mystery of death, the +young man’s flooded by that kindred mystery of love—the +two most wonderful mysteries of the world. He had +been sorry to hear of the extremity of the Duchess; but it +seemed a thing altogether apart from himself, and his +own new happiness soon banished it from his mind. Not +that he had not some feeling that was not happiness +mingling with his own bright dreams, as the growingly +stern expression of his face testified; and all of a sudden +he turned upon his grandfather and asked—</p> + +<p>“Do you know who my father was?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say that I <i>know</i>. I have my suspicions. +But your mother would not tell even me, and she died so +soon. Had she lived a little longer I should perhaps have +learned more.”</p> + +<p>“And so I must always be called Saul Tresithny, though +that is not my name by right?”</p> + +<p>“It is your name by right, because you were so +christened. You may have another name as well, my +lad, or you may not.”</p> + +<p>The last words were spoken very slowly and sorrowfully, +but Saul started as though they stung him.</p> + +<p>“I will never believe that my mother,” he began, and +then stopped short, his face contracted with passion and +pain.</p> + +<p>“I trust not also, Saul,” said the grandfather, his face +expressing a far keener depth of pain than that of his +young companion. “But she may have been deceived—that +has been the fate of too many loving and ignorant +women; and she came without papers upon her and +would speak no word. Illness and sorrow sealed her lips, +and there was no time for urging speech upon her of +herself. There was but time to point the way heavenwards +for the departing spirit. I have left that question with +my Maker all these years, and you will have to do the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> +same, my boy, for I fear the truth will never be known on +this side of the grave.”</p> + +<p>Saul compressed his lips and walked on in silence. His +face in the moonlight looked as if carved out of solid +marble.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b016.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b017.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br /> + +<i>THE DUCHESS OF PENARVON</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b017p.jpg" alt="P" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">PENARVON CASTLE was a great pile of grey +building situated on the commanding promontory +of land that jutted out into the sea and formed +the division between the two bays of St. Bride +and St. Erme.</p> + +<p>St. Bride’s Bay lay to the south of the castle, and was +a small and insignificant inlet, not deep enough to afford +anchorage for vessels of any size, and avoided on account +of the dangers of the jagged reef on its southern boundary, +which went by the name of “Smuggler’s Reef.” The +little bay, however, was a favourite spot for boats and +small craft, as its waters were generally smooth, save +when a direct west wind was blowing, and the smooth +sand of its beach made landing safe and easy. A little +hamlet of fisher-folk (and smugglers) nestled beneath the +overhanging cliffs, which broke up just at this point and +became merged in the green slopes of the downs behind. +Smuggled goods landed in the bay could be transported +thence without any great difficulty, and not a fisherman in +the place but did not have his own private smuggling +venture whenever fortune favoured, and his own clientèle +amongst the neighbouring farmers and gentlemen, who were +glad to purchase what he brought and ask no questions.</p> + +<p>The castle faced due west, and on its north side lay the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> +wider and larger bay of St. Erme; but the character of +the coast along this bay was not such as to tempt either +boats or larger vessels, for the cliffs ran sheer down into +the sea and presented a frowning iron-bound aspect, and +the shelter of the bay was sometimes too dearly purchased +by vessels running before the gale; for if they once struck +upon one of the many sunken rocks with which its bottom +was diversified, they were almost bound to go to pieces +without hope of rescue.</p> + +<p>The castle was a turreted building of quadrangular +construction, and in one lofty turret on all stormy nights +a brilliant light was always burning, which had at last +become as a beacon to passing vessels, showing them +where they were, and warning them especially of those +twin and much dreaded rocks called the “Bull’s Horns,” +which lay just beneath the castle walls, forming the +northern boundary to St. Bride’s Bay, and between which +lay a shifting expanse of quicksand, out of which no +vessel ever emerged if once she had run upon it.</p> + +<p>Upon this eve of the festival of Christmas, late though +the hour was, there were lights shining from many windows +of the great pile of grey stone—lights that the stranger +would believe to portend some festivity going on within +those walls, but which in reality indicated something +altogether different.</p> + +<p>The two doctors summoned in haste earlier in the day +had at last taken their leave with hushed steps and grave +faces. All that human skill could avail had been done, +and done in vain. Throughout the castle it was known +that the fiat had gone forth that the gentle mistress whom +all loved lay dying—that she would hardly see the dawn +of the Christmas morning; and there was hardly a dry eye +amongst the assembled household, gathered together to +talk in whispers of the sad intelligence, and to listen +breathlessly for any sound proceeding from the part of +the house where the dying woman lay.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>The pealing of the bell of the outer door caused a +commotion in their midst, till the butler, who rose to +answer the summons, remarked that it was most likely one +of the two parsons come to see the Duchess. The Duke +had sent a message to both when the death sentence had +gone forth, and this was probably the response.</p> + +<p>He went to the door, and sure enough there walked in, +with hushed step and awed face, the Rev. Job Tremodart, +resident clergyman of St. Bride’s, whose parsonage stood +not half-a-mile away.</p> + +<p>He was a tall, loose-limbed, lantern-jawed man, with a +plain but benevolent countenance, an awkward manner, +and a very decided inclination to slip into the native +dialect in conversation. He entered with a nervous air, +and seemed reluctant to follow the servant up the great +staircase to the floor above.</p> + +<p>“May be I shan’t be wanted,” he whispered, trying to +detain the man. “Du yu know if her Grace has asked +for me?”</p> + +<p>“It was his Grace that sent word for you to be told, +sir, you and Mr. St. Aubyn, of her Grace’s condition,” +answered the man respectfully. “His Grace is in the +little parlour here when he is not in the room. I will let +him know you are here.”</p> + +<p>“Has Mr. St. Aubyn come too?” asked Mr. Tremodart, +a look of relief crossing his face; “he will du her Grace +more gude than I.”</p> + +<p>“He is not here yet, sir,” answered the butler, and then +stood aside and motioned to the clergyman to go on, for +at the top of the staircase stood a tall rigid figure, and Mr. +Tremodart found himself shaking hands with the Duke +almost before he had had time to realise the situation.</p> + +<p>“The Duchess will be glad to see you,” was the only +word spoken by the stricken husband; and whether he +would or no, the hapless pastor was compelled to follow +his noble host.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>The Duke was tall and very spare in figure, and seemed +to have grown more so during the past week of anxiety +and watching. His hair, which had hitherto been dark +streaked with silver, seemed all at once to have silvered +over almost entirely. His face was finely cut, and the +features gave the impression of having been carved out of +a piece of ivory. The eyebrows were very bushy and were +still dark, and the eyes beneath were a steely blue and of +a peculiarly penetrating quality. The thin-lipped mouth +was indicative of an iron will, and the whole countenance +was one to inspire something of awe and dread. At the +present moment it was difficult to imagine that a smile +could ever soften it—difficult, at least, until the Duke +approached the side of his wife’s bed, and then the +change which imperceptibly stole over it showed that +beneath a hard and even harsh exterior—too deep +perhaps for outward expression—lay a power of love and +tenderness such as only a strong nature can truly +know.</p> + +<p>“My love,” said the Duke very quietly, “Mr. Tremodart +is here.”</p> + +<p>“I shall be glad to see Mr. Tremodart,” spoke a soft +voice from the bed; and in response to a sign from the +Duke, the clergyman (visibly quaking) passed round the +great screen which shut off the bed from the rest of the +room, and found himself face to face with the dying +woman.</p> + +<p>It was a scene not to be forgotten by any who looked +upon it. The Duchess lay back upon a pile of snowy +pillows, the peculiar pallor of approaching death lying like +a shadow across her beautiful face. And yet, save for +this never-to-be-mistaken shadow, there was nothing of +death in her aspect. Few and far between as Mr. +Tremodart’s pastoral visits had been (for he was always +fearful of intruding upon the great folks at the castle), he +had many times seen the Duchess look more worn and ill<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> +than she did now. The lines of pain, which had deepened +so much of late in her face, had all been smoothed away. +Something of the undefinable aspect of youth had come +back to the expression, and the soft dark eyes were full +of a liquid brightness which it was somehow difficult for +him to meet. It was as though the brightness had been +absorbed from an unseen source. There was a great awe +in his eyes as he approached and touched the feeble hand +for a moment extended to him.</p> + +<p>On her knees beside the bed, grasping the other hand +of the dying woman, was a young girl whose face could +not at this moment be seen, for it was pillowed in the +bed-clothes, whilst the slight figure was shivering and +heaving with suppressed emotion. All that could be seen +besides the slim graceful form was a mass of rippling +loosened hair that looked dark in shadow, but lighted up +with gleams of ruddy gold where the light touched it. Mr. +Tremodart gave a compassionate glance at the weeping girl. +It needed no word to explain the terrible loss which was +coming upon her.</p> + +<p>“My journey is just done, sir,” said the Duchess, with a +swift glance from the face of her husband to that of the +clergyman. “The call home has come at last. Will you +speak some word of peace to me before I go? Let me hear +the message that my Lord sends to me. Give me some +promise of His to lead me on my way.”</p> + +<p>The voice was very low, but clearly audible in the deep +stillness. Poor Mr. Tremodart twisted his great hands +together and felt as though an angel from heaven had +asked counsel of him.</p> + +<p>“O my dear lady!” he burst out at last, “you know +those promises far better than I do. You have no need +of any poor words of mine. Your life has ever been a +blameless one. It is you who should teach me. God +knows I need it. But you, if you are going before His +judgment throne, can scarcely have a sin upon your soul.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> +I stand mute in presence of a holiness greater than any I +ever have known.”</p> + +<p>The eyes of the dying woman were fixed upon Mr. +Tremodart’s face with an expression he scarce understood.</p> + +<p>“Am I to go into the presence of my God clad in the +robe of my own righteousness?” she asked with a faint +smile.</p> + +<p>“O my dear lady, how better could you go?” questioned +the confused and embarrassed clergyman. “Surely if ever +there were a saint upon earth it is yourself. Everybody +in the place knows it. What can I say to you that you do +not already know?”</p> + +<p>Still the same searching inexplicable gaze fixed upon +his face—tender, pitying, regretful. Never had the Rev. +Job Tremodart felt so utterly unworthy of his office and +calling as at that moment. He had always recognised +the fact that he had “never been cut out for a parson,” +as he had phrased it. He had allowed himself to be +ordained and presented with a living in deference to his +father’s wishes and the pressure of circumstances, and he +had striven after his own light to do his duty amongst his +illiterate and semi-savage flock. On the whole he had +succeeded fairly well to his satisfaction, and was as good +a clergyman as many of his brethren around. But somehow, +beside the dying bed of the Duchess of Penarvon, +he stood shamed and silent, having no word to speak to +her save to remind her of her own saint-like life and her +own righteousness. Even he felt a faint qualm as he +spoke those words, yet their incongruity hardly struck +him in its full force. But it was an immense relief when +a slight stir without was followed by the entrance of +another figure into the room, and he could step back and +motion the new-comer to take his place beside the bed. +Even the girl raised her head now and looked round with +eyes dark-rimmed and dim with weeping. She did not +otherwise move, but she no longer kept her face hidden;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> +she turned it towards her mother with a hungry intensity +of gaze that was infinitely pathetic.</p> + +<p>“You are welcome, my friend,” said the Duchess in +the same soft even tone. “I am glad to look upon your +face once more. I am going down into the valley at last. +The shadow is closing round me. You have brought me +some word to take with me there?”</p> + +<p>Mr. St. Aubyn came one step nearer and laid his hand +upon the nerveless one of the dying woman. He was an +older man than his brother clergyman, and one of very +different aspect. His face was worn and hollow, as if +with thought and toil; his eyes were deep and tranquil, +often full of a dreamy brilliance, which bespoke a mind +far away. His features, if not beautiful in themselves, +were redeemed by a wonderful sweetness and depth of +expression. He looked like one whose “conversation is +in heaven,” and the dying woman’s eyes sought his with +quiet confidence and joy.</p> + +<p>“The shadow truly is there—but the rod and the staff +are with all the servants of the Lord who can trust in +Him—and the brightness of the eternal city is beyond. +Truly the enemy’s power is but brief. He can but cast a +shadow betwixt us and our Saviour, and we who have +the staff of His consolation in our grasp need not fear. +To depart and be with Christ is a blessed thing. It is +through the grave and gate of death that we pass to our +joyful resurrection. There is no fear, no darkness, no +shadow that can come between us and that glorious +promise, ‘I am the Resurrection and the Life.’”</p> + +<p>The eyes of the dying woman kindled—filled suddenly +with a beautiful triumphant joy. Her lips moved, and +she softly repeated the words—</p> + +<p>“‘I am the Resurrection and the Life’—ah! that is +enough—that is all we need to think of when our peace is +made.”</p> + +<p>“Yea, verily—the Lamb of God suffered death for us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> +to reconcile us again to God: and He rose triumphant +from the grave—the first-fruits of them that sleep—for +us to know that in the appointed day we too may rise +again and be glorified together with Him. And meantime +we rest in His peace, awaiting the day of our common +perfecting. Ah! and when the trump of the Archangel is +heard, it is the blessed dead who rise first, whilst in a +moment of time the faithful living are caught away with +them to meet the Lord in the air. O blessed, blessed +hope for living and dead alike—to meet the Lord and be +ever with Him! Surely that is the promise that takes +the sting from death and robs the grave of victory. We +know not the day nor the hour—that is hid in the foreknowledge +of the Divine Father; but we have the everlasting +promise—the promise which robs death of its +sting, even for those who are left behind—who are parted +from our loved ones. For at any moment the wondrous +shout of the Lord may be heard as He descends from +heaven to awaken the dead and call ‘those that are His at +His coming,’ and we may be one with them in the blessed +and holy first resurrection. ‘Wherefore comfort one +another with these words.’”</p> + +<p>The gaze of the clergyman as he spoke these latter +words was rather bent on the daughter than the mother, +and the dying woman read the thought in his heart and +laid her own feeble hand upon her child’s head. The +girl’s tears were dry now. Her lips had parted in a smile +of wondrous vividness and hope. She clasped her hands +together, and her glance sought her mother’s face.</p> + +<p>“O mother, my mother—if it might only be soon! O +pray for me that I lose not heart—that I may learn to +live in the hope in that promise!”</p> + +<p>“The Lord will give you help and grace so to live, my +child, if you will but trust in Him. Heaven and earth +may pass away, but His word will not pass away, and +that hope is His most blessed promise. ‘We shall not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> +all sleep, but we shall all be changed.’ O my child, never +think to put off the making of your peace with God till +the hour of death, as some do. Remember that ‘we shall +not all die.’ It is the life eternal, not the grave and +gate of death, upon which our hearts must be fixed. +Although I am called to pass through that gate, ask not, +my child, for power to die. Ask rather the gift of the +everlasting life which will be given without dying at the +coming of the Lord. Ask for that coming and kingdom +to be hastened, that He will come down speedily upon +this rent and riven earth, and cause His reign of peace to +begin. Yea, pray for the outpouring of His Spirit in this +time of darkness and perplexity. Pray for that great +and glorious day when mortality shall be swallowed up +of life!”</p> + +<p>The Duchess had half risen upon her pillows as she +spoke. A strange light was in her eyes. In spite of her +physical weakness, she spoke with a power and strength +that had seemed impossible a few moments before. Was +it the last expiring spark, flashing out with momentary +vividness; or was it some spiritual power within her that +gave to her this access of strength?</p> + +<p>Those about her knew not, yet they hung upon her +words with a sense of strange wonder and awe.</p> + +<p>To the Duke and the other clergyman this talk was +absolutely inexplicable—like words spoken in a strange +language. Deeply as the reserved and stern husband had +loved his wife, there were subjects that were never spoken +of between them, owing to his resolute reserve and reticence. +Dry orthodoxy and an upright walk before men had +been characteristic of the Duke through life. The fruits +of the Spirit, showing forth in love, joy, and peace, and +the yearning for light upon the dealings of God with His +children, were absolutely unknown to him; and though +he knelt with the rest when Mr. St. Aubyn offered a +prayer beside the bed of his dying wife, the words spoken<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> +fell meaningless on his ears. He had far more sympathy +with the clergyman who had called his wife a saint, and +shrunk from striving to speak any words of promise, than +with him who was speaking of things so far beyond his +ken as to appear to him idle mysticism and folly.</p> + +<p>But the peace and joy beaming from those dying eyes +told him more eloquently than any words what it meant +to her, and he bowed his head and stifled the groan which +rose to his lips as he realised that, despite their tender +love, they had yet lived so far asunder in spirit that a great +gulf already seemed to divide them.</p> + +<p>Yet the wife would not suffer herself to be long sundered +in spirit from her husband; and when the two clergymen +had silently departed, having done all that they could, each +in his own way, she summoned him to her bedside by a +glance, and brought her mind back to earth again with +something of an effort.</p> + +<p>“My dear, dear husband,” she fondly whispered; and +then the groan would have its way, as he took her hand in +his and dropped down into the seat beside the bed which +had been his for so many long hours during the past days.</p> + +<p>The Duchess bent her head softly towards the other side +where her daughter knelt, and said in a low voice—</p> + +<p>“My child, I would be alone with your father a brief +while. Leave me for one short half-hour, then you shall +return, and I will send you away no more, my patient +darling.”</p> + +<p>The words of tender endearment brought a rush of tears +to the girl’s eyes, but she rose without a word, and slipped +noiselessly from the room. The mother looked after her +with wistful eyes.</p> + +<p>“Husband,” she said softly, “you will be tender with +the child? You will let her take my place with you so far +as such a thing is possible. She will try to do her duty +by you and by all. You will let that duty be a labour of +love?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>“I will do what I can; but I am old to change my +ways, and I do not understand young girls. No one can +take your place; you talk of impossibilities. O Geraldine! +Geraldine! it is too hard to be thus left, old and +stricken, and alone. Why must it be?—you so many, +many years younger than I. I never thought to be the +one left behind. I cannot be resigned. I cannot be willing +to let you go. The Almighty is dealing very bitterly +with me!”</p> + +<p>“Dear husband, the parting will be the shorter that you +are well stricken in years,” she answered gently, answering +him according to the measure of his understanding +and feeling. “It will be but a few short years before we +meet again in the place where there is no parting. And +now, my husband, before I am taken away from you—before +this new strength, which, I believe, God has given +me for a purpose, be spent—I have a few things to say to +you—a few charges to give to you. Will you let me speak +from my very heart, and forgive me if in any sort I pain +and grieve you?”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> pain or grieve me by any precious words you may +speak! That thing is impossible. Let me know all that +is in your tender, noble heart. It shall be the aim and +object of the miserable residue of my days to carry out +whatever you may speak.”</p> + +<p>The Duchess pressed his hand affectionately, and lay still +for a moment, gathering strength. Her husband gave her +some of the cordial which stood at hand, and presently she +spoke again—</p> + +<p>“My husband, we are living in troubled and anxious +days. The world around us is full of striving and upheaval. +You and I remember those awful struggles in France now +dying out of men’s minds, and we have indications, only +too plainly written on the face of the earth, that the spirit +of lawlessness and anarchy thus let loose is seething and +fermenting throughout the world.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>The Duke bent his head in assent. He well knew such +to be the case, but hardly expected that to be the subject +of his dying wife’s meditations. She continued speaking +with pauses in between.</p> + +<p>“My husband, perhaps you know that ever since those +terrible days, when men began to see in that awful Revolution +the first outpouring of God’s last judgments +upon the earth, godly men and women of every shade of +opinion have been earnestly and constantly praying for +God’s guidance and Spirit, that they may read the signs +of the times aright, and learn what are His purposes +towards mankind, as revealed in His written Word. I +will not speak too particularly of all that has been given +in answer to this generation of prayer; but it is enough +for me to tell you that Light has come, that the long-neglected +prophetic writings have been illumined by the +light of God’s Spirit to many holy men and women, who +have made them their study day by day and year by year, +and that rays of light from above have come to us, illumining +the darkness, and showing us faintly, yet clearly, God’s +guiding hand in these days of darkness and trouble. Do +you follow me so far?”</p> + +<p>“I understand your words, and am ready to believe that +in these things you have a knowledge that I cannot attain +unto; but what then?”</p> + +<p>“What I would ask of you, my husband, is patience and +trust—patience with many things that will seem strange to +you, that will seem like a subversion of all your ideas of +wisdom and prudence—and trust in God’s power to make +all things work together for good, and to bring good out +of evil. We know that the latter days are coming fast +upon us—that the armies of good and evil are gathering +for that last tremendous struggle which precedes the reign +of the Lord. We know that the strange upheavals we +see in the world about us are the beginnings of these +things, and that those who would be found faithful must<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> +learn to discern between the evil and the good; for Satan +can transform himself into an angel of light, and deceive, +if it were possible, the very elect, whilst God has again +and again chosen the weak and despised things of this +world to confound the strong; and it is human nature +to turn away in scorn from all such weak things, and +look for strength and salvation from the mighty and +approved.”</p> + +<p>The Duke listened with a sigh. He understood but +little of all this. Yet every word from his dying wife +was precious, and engraved itself upon his memory in +indelible characters.</p> + +<p>“There are difficult days coming upon the earth: great +wrongs will be righted, much that is pure and good will +spring up; and side by side with that much that is evil, +lawless, and terrible. Dear husband, what I would ask +of you is a patient mind, patience to look at changes +without prejudice, and strive prayerfully to discern +whether or not they be of God;—also patience to hear +what is said by their advocates, and to weigh well what +you hear. Let mercy ever temper justice in your dealings +with your dependents; and condemn not those who +are not at one with you without pausing to understand +the nature of all they are striving to accomplish. The +evil and the good will and must grow up together till the +day of the harvest. The wheat and the tares cannot be +sorted out till the reapers are sent forth from God. But +let us strive with eyes anointed from above to distinguish +in our own path that which is good, and not cast +it scornfully aside, nor rush after what is evil because it +approves itself to the great ones of the earth. I am +sure that God will lead and guide all those who truly +turn to Him in these times of darkness and perplexity. +My dear, dear husband, if I could feel sure that you +would be amongst those who would thus turn to Him +now, I should pass away with a sweeter sense of trust and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> +hope—a brighter confidence in that most blessed meeting +on the other shore.”</p> + +<p>The white head of the husband was bowed upon the +pillow. He did not weep—the fountain of his tears lay +too deep for him to find relief thus—but a few deep +breaths, like gasps, bespoke the intensity of his emotion, +and when he could articulate, he answered briefly—</p> + +<p>“My life, I will try—I will try—so help me God!”</p> + +<p>“He will help you, my precious husband,” she +answered, with quivering tenderness of intonation, “and +you know the promise that cannot fail, ‘All things are +possible to him that believeth.’”</p> + +<p>And then from that bowed head there came the +earnest cry—</p> + +<p>“‘Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.’”</p> + +<p>After that followed a pause of deep silence. The +Duchess, exhausted but content, lay back on her pillow +with closed eyes. The Duke held her hand between his, +and fought out his battle in silence and alone. He was +passing through deeper waters than the dying woman; +for her peace was made, and she was going confidently +forth to meet Him who had bidden her to come; whilst +he was fighting in doubt and helplessness the tempestuous +winds and waves, feeling every moment that they +must engulf him. And yet never had the two loving +hearts beat more in sympathy and unison. Those +moments were unspeakably precious to both, although no +word passed between them.</p> + +<p>The silence was scarcely broken as the door opened +softly, and Bride stole back to her mother’s side. She +had been caught by her old nurse meantime, and had +been dosed with soup and wine, while some of the dishevelment +of her dress and hair had been removed. +Her aching eyes had been bathed, and she looked altogether +strengthened and refreshed. The dying eyes +turned upon her took in this, and the Duchess smiled with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> +a sense of relief to think that there was one faithful +woman beneath the castle roof who would make Bride +her first care.</p> + +<p>The girl’s eyes sought her mother’s face with wistful +intensity of gaze, and at once noted a change that even +that brief half-hour had brought with it. The shadow +had deepened; there was a dimness coming over the +bright eyes, the hand she touched was icy cold.</p> + +<p>“Mother!—mother!—mother!” she cried, and sank +down on her knees beside the bed.</p> + +<p>“My child, my little Bride. You have been a dear, +dear child to me. In days to come, if you live to have +children of your own, may you be rewarded for all the +tenderness you have shown to me.”</p> + +<p>“Mother, mother, let me die too! I cannot bear it! I +cannot live without you!”</p> + +<p>“Dearest, you must live for your father; you must +comfort each other,” and with a last effort of strength, +the dying woman brought the hands of father and +daughter together across her emaciated form, and held +them locked together so in her stiffening fingers.</p> + +<p>When the end came they neither knew exactly. Bride +was on her knees, her face hidden, the shadow seeming to +weigh her down till all was blackness round her, and she +felt sinking, sinking, sinking down into some unknown +abyss, clinging frantically to something which she took +to be her mother’s hand. The Duke, with his eyes upon +his wife’s face, saw the fluttering of the eyelids, heard a +soft sigh, and then watched the settling down upon that +wan face of a look of unspeakable rest and sweetness.</p> + +<p>If that was death, why need death be dreaded? It +was like nothing that he had seen or imagined before. +The only words which came into his mind were those of a +familiar formula never understood before—</p> + +<p>“The peace of God that passeth all understanding.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b032.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br /> + +<i>THE HOUSE OF MOURNING</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b032e.jpg" alt="E" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">EUSTACE MARCHMONT came in sight of Penarvon +Castle just as the last rays of the winter +sunset were striking upon its closed windows and +turning them into squares of flashing red light +dazzling to the eye. The castle stood commandingly upon +its lofty promontory of jagged cliff, and from its garden +walls, as the young man remembered well, the spectator +could look sheer down a deep precipice into the tossing +waves of the sea beneath. He remembered the long side +terrace of the castle, against which the thunder of the surf +in winter months made a perpetual roar and battle; whilst +even on summer evenings, when the sea lay like a sheet of +molten gold beneath them, the ceaseless murmur was +always to be heard, suggestive of the restless life of the +ocean. It was natural perhaps that Eustace should draw +rein and look at the majestic pile with something of pride +in his gaze, for he was the Duke’s next of kin, and in the +course of nature would one day be master here. Yet there +was no exultation in the steady gaze he fixed upon his +future home: it was speculative and thoughtful rather +than triumphant. There was a shade of perplexity in the +wide-open grey eyes intently fixed upon the place, which +looked at the moment as though lit up for illumination, and +the firm lips set themselves in lines that were almost grim.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>Eustace Marchmont was clad in a suit of black, which +was evidently quite new, although slightly stained and +disordered by the evidences of a long and hasty journey. +He had, in fact, ridden hard from town ever since the +news of the Duchess’s death reached him, now three days +ago. He knew that propriety demanded he should be +present at her funeral, even without the invitation from +the Duke. He had come as fast as post-horses could +bring him, with his two servants in attendance, and had +travelled without mischance.</p> + +<p>It was many years now since Eustace had visited +Penarvon. His father (dead two years since) and the +Duke were cousins, and the Duke had no brother. As +young men there had been some attachment between +them, but they had grown apart with the advance of years. +The Duke was by many years the elder of the two; and +perhaps on account of seniority, perhaps from his position +as head of the family, had striven with possibly unwise +persistence to mould his cousin after his own wishes. +Disagreement had ended in coolness, and the intercourse +had become slacker. Although Eustace had visited his +“uncle’s” house (he had been taught so to speak of the +Duke), he did not remember ever having seen his father +there, and since his own boyhood he had not seen the +place himself.</p> + +<p>He had not understood at the time why his visits +ceased, but he knew it well enough now. Although the +Duke long cherished hopes of a son of his own to succeed +him, he had always regarded Eustace as a possible heir, +and had desired to have a voice in his education. The boy +had been sent to Eton at his suggestion; but when his +school-days were ended, and his uncle naturally supposed +that the University would be the next step in his training, +Mr. Marchmont had suddenly decided to travel abroad +with the boy and see the world—the close of the long +war having just rendered travelling possible with safety.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> +When he himself returned to England at the end of two +years, it was with the news that Eustace had been left +behind in Germany to finish his education there; and the +indignant remonstrances of the Duke had resulted in a +coolness which had never been altogether conquered. He +considered that the young man would be rendered entirely +unfit by such training, for the position every year seemed +to make it more probable he would one day hold, whilst +Mr. Marchmont argued that, the youth’s heart being set +upon it, it was far better to give him his own way than try +to force him into paths uncongenial and distasteful.</p> + +<p>Eustace was now seven-and-twenty, and in command +of an ample fortune. Both his parents were dead—his +mother he did not even remember, and he had neither +brother nor sister. His second cousin, Lady Bride +Marchmont, whom he dimly remembered as a shrinking +little girl, for ever clinging to her mother’s hand, was the +only relative of his own generation that he possessed; and +it had naturally occurred to him before now that to marry +the Duke’s daughter, if he could learn to love her and +teach her to love him, would be the best reparation he +could make to her for the lack of brothers of her own. It +seemed to him a hard and unjust thing that her sex should +disqualify her from succeeding to her father’s wealth and +title. Eustace was no lover of the time-honoured laws of +primogeniture, entail, or the privileges of the upper classes. +The leaven of the day was working strongly in him, and +he was ready to break a lance in the cause of freedom and +brotherly equality with whatever foe came in his way.</p> + +<p>His face bespoke something of this temperament. He +had the broad lofty brow of the thinker, the keen steady +eye of the man of battle, the open sensitive nostril of the +enthusiast, and the firm tender mouth of the philanthropist. +Without being handsome he was attractive, and his face +was worthy of study. There was something of quiet scorn +lying latent in his expression, which argument easily called<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> +into active existence. The face could darken sternly, or +soften into ardent tenderness and enthusiasm, as the case +might be. He had the air of a leader of men. His voice +was deep, penetrating, and persuasive, and he had a fine +command of language when his pulses were stirred. In +person he was tall and commanding, and had that air of +breeding which goes far to win respect with men of all +classes. He moved with the quiet dignity and ease of +one perfectly trained in all physical exercises, and in +whom no thought of self-consciousness lurks. He looked +well on horseback, riding with the grace of long practice. +As he followed the windings of the zigzag road which +led up to the castle, looking about him with keen eyes to +observe what changes time had made in the old place, he +looked like one whom the Duke might welcome with pride +as his heir, since it had not pleased Providence to bestow +upon him a son of his own.</p> + +<p>He rode quietly up to the great sweep before the gateway +and passed beneath it, answering the respectful salute +of the porter with a friendly nod, and found himself in the +quadrangle upon which the great hall door opened. His +approach had been observed, and the servants in their +sombre dress were waiting to receive him; but the drawn +blinds over all the windows, and the deep hush which +pervaded the house, struck a chill upon the spirit of the +young man as he passed beneath the portal, and a quick +glance round the hall assured him that none but servants +were there.</p> + +<p>A great hound lying beside the roaring fire of logs rose +with a suspicious bay and advanced towards him, but +seeming to recognise kinship in the stranger, permitted +him to stroke his head, as Eustace, standing beside the +hearth, addressed the butler in low tones:—</p> + +<p>“How is it with his Grace?”</p> + +<p>The man slowly shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Sadly, sir, but sadly. He keeps himself shut up in his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> +own room—the room next to that in which her Grace lies—and +unless it be needful nobody disturbs him. He looks +ten years older than he did a month back: it has made +an old man of him in a few weeks.”</p> + +<p>“And the Lady Bride?”</p> + +<p>“She is bearing up wonderfully, but we think she has +scarce realised her loss yet. She seems taken out of +herself by it all—uplifted like—almost more than is +natural in so young a lady. But she was always half +a saint, like her Grace herself. She will be just such +another as her mother.”</p> + +<p>“And the funeral is to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir—on the first day of the new year. Her Grace +died very early upon the morning of Christmas Day—just +a week from now.”</p> + +<p>Eustace was silent for a few minutes, and then turning +to the servant, said—</p> + +<p>“Does his Grace know I am here? Shall I see him +to-day? Does he see anybody?”</p> + +<p>“If you will let me show you your rooms, sir, I will let +him know you have arrived. He will probably see you at +dinner-time. He and Lady Bride dine together at five—their +other meals they have hitherto taken in their own +rooms, but that may be changed now. You will join them +at dinner, of course, sir.”</p> + +<p>“If they wish it, certainly,” answered Eustace; “but I +have no wish to intrude if they would prefer to be alone. +Is anybody else here?”</p> + +<p>“There is nobody else to come, sir. Her Grace’s few +relatives are in Ireland, and there has not been time to +send for them, and they were not nearly related to her +either. I am glad you are here, sir. It is a long time +since Penarvon has seen you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have been much abroad, but the place looks +exactly the same. I could believe I had been here only +yesterday.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>And then Eustace followed the man up the grand +marble staircase and down a long corridor, so richly +carpeted that their foot-falls made no sound, till they +reached a small suite of apartments, three in number, +which had been prepared for the use of the guest, and +which were already bright with glowing fires, and numbers +of wax candles in silver sconces arranged along the walls.</p> + +<p>The costliness and richness of his surroundings was +strange to Eustace, for although wealth was his, his +habits were very simple, and he neither desired nor +appreciated personal indulgences of whatever kind they +might be. He looked round him now with a smile not +entirely free from contempt, although he recognised in +the welcome thus accorded him a spirit of friendly regard, +which was pleasant.</p> + +<p>“Unless, indeed, it is all the work of hired servants,” +he said, after a moment’s cogitation. “Probably it is so—who +else would have thought to spare for a guest at such +a time as this? This is the regular thing at the castle for +every visitor. There is nothing personal to me in all this +warmth and brightness.”</p> + +<p>His baggage had arrived, and his servant had laid out +his evening dress: but Eustace never required personal +attention, and the man had already taken his departure. +The young man donned his new suit of decorous black +with rapidity and precision. He was no dandy, but he +was no sloven either, and always looked well in his +clothes. After his rapid toilet was completed, he sat +down beside the fire to muse, and was only interrupted +by the message to the effect that his Grace desired the +pleasure of his company at the dinner-table that evening.</p> + +<p>This being the case, and the hands of the clock on the +mantelpiece pointing ten minutes only to the hour of five, +Eustace at once rose and descended to the drawing-room, +the door of which was thrown open for him by one of the +footmen carrying in some logs to feed the huge fire. One<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> +glance round the once familiar apartment showed him +that it was empty. It was the smallest of the three +drawing-rooms, opening one into the other in a long suite, +and formed indeed the ante-chamber to the larger ones +beyond; but it was the one chiefly used when there were +no guests at the castle; and Eustace remembered well the +pictures on the white and gold walls, the amber draperies, +and the cabinets with their treasures of silver, china, +and glass.</p> + +<p>Nothing seemed changed about the place, and the sense +of stationary immutability and repose struck strangely +upon the alert faculties of the young man, whose life had +always been full of variety—not only of place and scene, +but of thought and principle. A dreamlike feeling came +over him as he stood looking about him, and he did not +know whether the predominant sensation in his mind were +of satisfaction or impatience.</p> + +<p>The door slowly opened, and in came a slim black-robed +figure. For a moment Eustace, standing near to an +interesting picture, and shadowed by a curtain, passed +unnoticed, so that he took in the details of this living +picture before he himself was seen. He knew in a +moment who it was—his cousin Bride—the little timid +girl of his boyish recollections; but if all else were +unchanged at Penarvon, there was change at least here, +for had he seen her in any other surroundings he would +never have known or recognised her.</p> + +<p>Bride’s face was very pale, and there were dark violet +shadows beneath the eyes which told of vigil and of +weeping; yet the face was now not only calm, but full of +a deep spiritual tranquillity and exaltation, which gave to +it an aspect almost unearthly in its beauty. Bride had +inherited all her mother’s exceptional loveliness of feature, +but she owed more to that expression—caught from, +rather than transmitted by, that saintly mother—which +struck the beholder far more than mere delicacy of feature<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> +or purity of colouring. Eustace was no mean student of +art, and had studied at the shrine of the old masters +with an enthusiasm born of true appreciation for genius; +yet never had he beheld, even in the greatest masterpieces, +such a wonderfully spiritualised and glorified face as he +now beheld in the person of his cousin Bride. A wave of +unwonted devotional fervour came suddenly upon him. +He felt that he could have bent the knee before her and +kissed the hem of her garment; but instead of that he +was constrained by custom to walk forward with outstretched +hand, meeting the startled glance of her liquid +dark eyes as she found herself not alone.</p> + +<p>“You are my cousin Eustace,” she said, in a low +melodious voice that thrilled him strangely as it fell upon +his ear; “my father will be glad you are come.”</p> + +<p>For once Eustace’s readiness failed him. He held +Bride’s hand, and knew not how to address her. His +heart was beating with quick strong throbs. He felt +as though he were addressing some being from another +sphere. What could he say to her at such a moment?</p> + +<p>Perhaps his silence surprised her, for she raised her +soft eyes again to his, and the glance went home to his +soul like a sword-thrust, so that he quivered all over. +But he found his voice at last.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” he said, and his voice was soft and even +tremulous. “If I am silent, it is because I have no words +in which to express what I wish. There are moments in +life when we feel that words are no true medium of +thought. I remember your mother, Bride—that is all +I can find to say. I remember her—and before the +thought of your great loss I am dumb. Silence is sometimes +more eloquent that any speech can be.”</p> + +<p>He still held her hand. She raised her eyes to his, and +he saw that he had touched her heart, for they were +swimming now in bright tears, but her sweet mouth did +not quiver.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>“Thank you,” she said, in tones that were little raised +above a whisper. “I am glad you have said that. I am +glad you remember her. I think she was fond of you, +Eustace.”</p> + +<p>Then the door opened and the Duke appeared.</p> + +<p>Eustace was shocked at his aspect. He remembered +him as a very upright, dignified, majestic man, whose +words were few and to the point, whose personality inspired +awe and reverence in all about him, whose wishes +were law, and whose will none ventured to dispute. He +beheld before him now a bowed, white-headed man, out +of whose eyes the light and keenness had passed, whose +voice was low and enfeebled, and whose whole aspect betokened +a mind and heart broken by grief, and a physique +shattered by the blow which had desolated his home.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless this form of grief did not appear to the +young man so pathetic as Bride’s, and he was not tongue-tied +before the Duke. His well-chosen words of sympathy +and condolence were received kindly by the old man, and +before the first dinner was over Eustace felt that the ice +was broken, and that he began to have some slight knowledge +of the relatives with whom he felt he should in +the future have considerable dealings if he succeeded +in winning their favour. Their loneliness, isolation, and +weakness appealed to the manly instincts of his nature, +and he resolved that any service he could perform to +lighten their burden should not be lacking.</p> + +<p>When left alone with the Duke after Bride had vanished, +little passed between them. The host apologised for his +silence, but said he could not yet begin to talk of common +things, and contented himself by obtaining a promise from +Eustace to remain some weeks at the castle as his guest. +In those days visits were always of considerable length, +and Eustace had made his preparations for a lengthened +absence from London, in case he should be required here. +He accepted the invitation readily, and the Duke, rising<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> +and saying good night, with an intimation that he should +retire at once to his room, Eustace strolled across the +vast hall to the drawing-room, half expecting to find it +empty; but his heart gave a quick bound as he saw it +tenanted by the slim black-robed figure, and met the +earnest gaze of Bride’s soft eyes.</p> + +<p>She rose as he appeared, and advanced to met him. +Upon her face was an expression which he did not understand +till her next words explained it.</p> + +<p>“Would you like to come and see her for the last time? +To-morrow it will be too late.”</p> + +<p>Eustace bent his head in voiceless assent. He could +not say nay to such an invitation, albeit he thought that +there was something morbid in the feeling which prompted +it. Habituated to foreign ways and customs, this keeping +of the dead unburied for so many days was in his eyes +slightly repulsive; but he followed the noiseless steps of +his guide, and was at last ushered into a large dim room, +lighted by many wax tapers, the light of which seemed, +however, absorbed into the heavy black draperies with +which the walls were hung.</p> + +<p>In this sombre apartment the Duchess had lain in state +(if such a phrase might be used) for many days. The +whole population of St. Bride and St. Erme had combined +to plead for a last look upon her who in life had been so +greatly beloved; and both the Duke and his daughter +had been touched by the request, which was promptly +gratified.</p> + +<p>And so Eustace now found himself before a prostrate +figure that bore the likeness of a marble effigy, but was +clad in soft white robes of sheeny texture, the fine dark +hair being dressed as in life, and crowned by the film of +priceless lace which the Duchess was wont to wear. Tall +lilies in pots made a background for the recumbent figure, +and the wax tapers cast their light most fully upon the +tranquil face of the dead. And when once the eye rested<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> +on that face, the accessories were all forgotten. Eustace +looked, and a great awe and wonder fell upon him. Bride +looked, and her face kindled with that expression which +he marked upon it when first he had seen her, and which +afterwards, when he heard the words, seemed to him +best described in this phrase, “Death is swallowed up +of victory.”</p> + +<p>She knelt down beside the couch on which all that was +mortal of her mother lay, and when Eustace turned his +eyes away from the peaceful face of the dead, it was to +let them rest for a moment upon the ecstatic countenance +of the living.</p> + +<p>But after one glance he softly retired, unnoticed by +Bride, and shut the door behind him noiselessly.</p> + +<p>In the shelter of his own room the sense of mystic awe +and wonder that possessed him fell away by degrees. He +paced up and down, lost in thought, and presently a frown +clouded the eyes that had been till now full of pity and +sympathy.</p> + +<p>“She looks as though she had been living with the dead +till she is more spirit than flesh. How can they let her? +It is enough to kill her or send her mad! Well, thank +heaven, the funeral is to-morrow. After that this sort +of thing must cease. Poor child, poor girl! A father +who seems to have no knowledge of her existence, her +mother snatched away in middle life. And she does not +look made of the stuff that forgets either. She will have +a hard time of it in the days to come. I wonder if she will +let me help her, if I can in any wise comfort her. That +must be a heart worth winning, if one had but the key.”</p> + +<p>Upon the forenoon of the next day the funeral of the +Duchess was celebrated with all the pomp and sombre +show incident to such occasions in the days of which we +write. Bride did not accompany the sable procession as +it left the castle and wound down the hill. Women did +not appear in public on such occasions then; and she only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> +watched from a turret window the mournful cortège as it +set forth, the servants of the household forming in rank +behind the coaches, and walking in procession in the rear, +and as the gates were reached, being followed in turn by +almost every man, woman, and child within a radius of +five miles, the whole making such a procession as had +never been seen in the place before.</p> + +<p>Hitherto the girl had been supported by the feeling that +her mother, although dead, was still with her; that she +could gaze on that dear face at will, feel the shadowing +presence of her great love, and know something of the +hallowing brooding peace which rested upon the quiet +face of the dead. Moreover, she was upheld all these days +by a wild visionary hope that perhaps even yet her mother +would be restored to her. Her intense faith in the power +of God made it easy to her to imagine that in answer to +her fervent prayer the soul might be restored to its tenement—the +dead raised up to life. If the prayer of faith +could move mountains—if <i>all</i> things were possible to him +that believeth, why might not she believe that her own +faith, her own prayer, might be answered after this +manner? Had not men been given back from the dead +before now? Why not this precious life, so bound up in +her own and in the hearts of so many?</p> + +<p>Thus the girl had argued, and thus she had spent her +days and her nights in fasting and prayer, raised up +above the level of earth by her absorbing hope and faith, +till she had almost grown to believe that the desired +miracle would become a reality. And now that the +dream was ended, now that she stood watching the disappearance +of that long procession, and knew that God +had not answered her prayers, had not rewarded her faith +as she felt it deserved to be rewarded, a strange leaden +heaviness fell upon her spirit. The reaction from the +ecstatic fervour of spirit set in with somewhat merciless +force. She felt that the earth was iron and the heavens<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> +brass, that there was none below to love her, none above +to hear her. A sense akin to terror suddenly possessed +her. She turned from her post of observation and fled +downwards. She felt choking, and craved the fresh salt +air, which had not kissed her cheek for more than this +eternity of a week. At the foot of the turret was a door +opening into the garden. She fled down, and found +herself in the open air, and with hasty steps she passed +through the deserted gardens till she came to the great +glass conservatory, which had been erected at no small +cost for the winter resort of the Duchess since she became +so much the invalid; and flinging herself down upon the +couch which still stood in its accustomed place in the +recess made for it, the girl burst into wild weeping, and +beat her head against the cushions in a frenzy akin to +despair.</p> + +<p>How long she thus remained she knew not. Darkness +seemed to fall upon her, and a great horror of she knew +not what. The next sensation of which she was really +conscious was the touch of a hand on her shoulder, and +the sound of a kindly and familiar voice in her ear—</p> + +<p>“Lady Bride, ladybird, don’tee take on so bitterly, my +lamb. It is not <i>her</i> they have put underground. May +be <i>she</i> is near yu now whilst you weep. May be it +was she who put it into my heart to come here just at +this time. If they can grieve whom the peace of God +Almighty has wrapped round, I think ’twould grieve +her to see yu breaking your heart to-day.”</p> + +<p>“O Abner!” cried the girl, sitting up and pushing the +heavy hair out of her eyes, “I am glad you have come! +I felt as though there was no one left in the wide world +but me—that I was all alone, and all the world was dead. +But I have not been like this before. Till they took her +away I felt I had her with me. I knew that she was near—that +she was watching over me. There was always the +hope that she was not dead—that her spirit might come<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> +back once more. O Abner, Abner! why does God +always take those who can least be spared? There are +so many who would scarce be missed, and she——”</p> + +<p>Bride could not complete her sentence, and the old +gardener looked tenderly at her. He had known her +from her birth. He had guided her tottering steps round +the garden before she could fairly walk alone. He had +watched her growth and development with an almost +fatherly tenderness and pride. She was as dear to him +as though she had been his own flesh and blood; and the +mother who was now taken away had never interfered +with the friendship between the child and the old servant; +nay, she had many and many a time held long talks +herself with Abner, and knew how strong a sympathy +there was between his views and her own, despite their +widely different walk in life. And so in the old gardener +Bride had a friend to whom at such a moment as this she +could talk more freely than to any other living creature.</p> + +<p>“May be the Lord wants the most beautiful flowers for +His own garden, my Ladybird,” answered the old man, +using the familiar pet name which had grown up between +them in childhood. “When I used to gather flowers for +her Grace’s room, I chose the sweetest and most perfect +blossoms I could find. We mustn’t wonder if the Lord +sometimes does the same—nor grudge Him the fairest +and purest flowers, even though the loss is ours.”</p> + +<p>Slightly soothed by the thought, Bride tried to smile.</p> + +<p>“Only it seems as though we wanted them so much +more,” said she.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. The dear Lord must have loved her +full as much as we do. He lent her to us for many +years; may be He knew she would be better placed in His +garden now, where no pruning-knife need ever touch +her, and no suns can scorch her, and where her leaves +will never wither. Sure, my Ladybird, yu du not grudge +her her place in God’s garden of Paradise?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>“O Abner! I will try not. I know what you mean; +she did have much suffering to bear here, and I am +thankful she will have no more. But there are some +things so hard to understand, even when we believe +them. I cannot bear to think of her body lying in +the cold ground, and becoming—oh! it does not bear +thinking of.”</p> + +<p>“Then, why think of it, Ladybird?—why not look +beyond this poor corruptible body, and think of the +glorious resurrection body with which we shall all arise?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is so hard to understand!” cried Bride, pressing +her hands together—“it is so hard to understand!”</p> + +<p>“I think it is not possible to understand,” said the old +man quietly, “but surely it is easy to believe, for we see +it every day and every year.”</p> + +<p>“How do we see it?” asked Bride, almost listlessly.</p> + +<p>Abner put his hand in his pocket and drew forth a +little packet of seed, some of which he poured into his +palm.</p> + +<p>“Lady Bride,” he said in his grave meditative way, “it +does not seem wonderful to yu that each of these tiny +seeds will, after it has rotted in the ground, germinate +and bear leaves and flowers and fruit. But if yu did not +know it from constant seeing it year by year, if it was a +strange thing that yu have been told, and yu would not +believe it, and yu said to me, ‘No, Abner, that cannot be. +It is not sense. It cannot be understood. I must prove +it first before I believe it.’ And suppose yu took that +seed and put it under that glass which clever men use +for discoveries, and suppose beneath that powerful glass +yu pulled it bit by bit to pieces to see if it contained the +germ of the mystery, du yu think yu would find it +there? Du yu think your seed would grow after being +treated so?”</p> + +<p>“No, of course not,” answered Bride.</p> + +<p>“Well, isn’t it just so with the mysteries of God? He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> +gives them to us, and says, ‘Here is your body. It is +corruptible and mortal; but it has within it the germ of +immortality, and though it will die and perish in the +ground, yet it will rise again glorified when the day of +resurrection comes.’ But men in these days take that +mystery and say, ‘We will not take God’s word for it; +we will put it beneath the glass of our great intellects, and +examine and see if it be true, and if we may not prove it +by examination, then we will not believe it!’ And so +they set to work, and when they have done, they tell men +not to believe God any longer, because they have proved +Him a liar by the gauge of their own intellects. Du yu +think these men would believe that this seed would sprout +into a flower if they did not see it do so with their own +eyes? No; they would laugh yu to scorn for telling +them so. And so they laugh us to scorn who tell them +that there will be a resurrection of the dead. But, Ladybird, +never let your heart fail you. Never let doubt steal +over your mind. What God has promised we know He +will surely accomplish—and His words cannot fail.”</p> + +<p>She rose with a faint smile and held out her hand, +which the old gardener took reverently and tenderly +between both of his own.</p> + +<p>“I will try to think of that if ever I doubt again,” she +said softly. “I do know—I do believe—but sometimes +it is very hard to keep fast hold on the faith.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b047.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b048.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br /> + +<i>THE DUKE’S HEIR</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b048y.jpg" alt="Y" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap2">“YOUR name is Tresithny, is it not?—and you +are the gardener here, by what I understand, +and have lived at Penarvon all your life. Is +that so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. My father was gardener to the old Duke, +and he brought me up to take his place; and I’ve been +working on the place here, man and boy, these fifty years. +I was only a lad of eight when first I used to help my +father with some of the lighter tasks, and now I have +all the men on the place working under my orders. It +is a long while since you paid us a visit, sir; but I +remember you well as a little fellow when you came to +Penarvon.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid I don’t remember you. Boys are selfish +little brats, and go about thinking of nothing but their +own amusement. But, Tresithny, I have come to you +now for information. They tell me you are a thoughtful +man, and have educated yourself soundly in your leisure +hours. One can almost see as much by looking at you +and hearing you speak. I feel as though you are the +man I want to get hold of. I have been here nearly a +month now, and I have not been idle meantime: I have +come here with an object, and I have been collecting +information as far as I have been able to do so alone; but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> +I believe you will be able to help me better than I can +help myself.”</p> + +<p>The gardener raised his head, and looked at the young +gentleman before him with thoughtful mien. Although +this was the first time he had been addressed by Eustace, +he had seen him often pacing the garden paths in meditative +abstraction, and had heard of him from others as +walking or riding over the country roads, and asking +strange questions of those he encountered in his rambles. +He had been down amongst the fisher-folk of the bay. +He had been up amongst the downlands, talking with the +shepherd-folk who dwelt in the scattered stone huts that +were met with from time to time there. He had been +seen at various farmsteads, making friends with their +inhabitants, and people were beginning to ask in a puzzled +way what he meant by it all, and to wonder at the nature +of his questions, albeit the stolid rustic mind was not +wont to disturb itself much by inquiry or speculation. +When asked a question of the bearing of which he was +doubtful, the peasant would generally scratch his head +and look vacantly out before him; and again and again, +when pressed by Eustace for an answer, would drawl out +something like the following reply—</p> + +<p>“Zure, thee’d better ask Maister Tresithny. He mid +knaw. He du knaw a sight o’ things more’n we. ’E +be a’most as gude as Passon tu talk tu. Thee’d best +ask he.”</p> + +<p>And after some time Eustace had followed this counsel, +and was now face to face with his uncle’s servant, although +in the first instance he had told himself that he would +speak of these things to nobody at Penarvon itself.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be pleased and proud to help any one of your +name and race, sir,” answered Abner quietly, “so far as +I may rightly do so. What can I do for you, sir? You +have been main busy since you came here, by all I see +and hear.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>“You have heard of me, then?” questioned Eustace, +with a smile. “People have talked of my comings and +goings, have they?”</p> + +<p>“Folks here mostly take notice of what goes on up +to the castle,” answered Abner, “and they say that the +young master is wonderful little there, but out all day +on his own business, which is what they cannot make +out.”</p> + +<p>Eustace laughed pleasantly, and then his face grew +grave again.</p> + +<p>“I should be more at the castle if I could be of service +to his Grace or Lady Bride; but there is a sorrow upon +which a stranger may not intrude, and at present I can +call myself little else. In time I trust I may win my +way there; but during these first days I believe the truest +kindness is to keep away from them for the greater part +of my time. And I have my own object to pursue, which +is one that may not be ignored; for it is a duty, and I +am resolved to do it to the utmost of my power.”</p> + +<p>Abner nodded his head in grave approval.</p> + +<p>“That is the way our duties should be tackled, sir. +It is no good giving half our energies to them. We have +our orders plain and simple—‘What thy hand findeth to +do, do it with thy might.’”</p> + +<p>“Yes—just so,” answered Eustace, with a quick glance +at the man, whose hands were still at work amongst his +pots, even whilst he talked. He was in the potting-shed, +pricking out a quantity of young seedlings; and although +he gave intelligent heed to the words of the young gentleman +before him, he continued his employment with +scrupulous care and exactness. “By-the-bye, Tresithny,” +Eustace suddenly interpolated, “aren’t you something of +a preacher, by what they say? Don’t you hold meetings +in St. Bride’s amongst the fisher-folk? I have heard +something of it down amongst the people there.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir,” answered Abner, “it isn’t so to say a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> +service; but we’ve got men-folk down there as will not +enter the doors of a church, do what you will; and though +they be good enough friends with the Rev. Tremodart +when he comes down on the bit of a quay to chat with +them, they won’t go to church, and he’s too wise, may be, +to try and force them. But they’ll sometimes come of +a Sunday evening to Dan Denver’s cottage, and listen +whilst I read them a chapter and talk it over afterwards. +Some days they don’t seem to have much to say, and +leaves it most to me, and then it du seem to them +almost like a bit of a sermon. But that’s not what +I mean it to be. I want to get them to think and +talk as well.”</p> + +<p>The young man’s eyes suddenly flashed, and he took +up the word with suppressed eagerness.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Tresithny, that’s just it! That’s the very pith +of the whole matter. You and I ought to be friends. +We both want to rouse the people to think. If we could +do that—how much could be achieved!”</p> + +<p>“Ay, indeed it could, sir. There be times when it +seems as though it would be as easy to get the brute +beast of the field to think, as it is to rouse them up +to do it. And yet they have all immortal souls, though +they care no more what becomes of them than the beasts +that perish. Think of it!—think of it!”</p> + +<p>Eustace gave Abner a quick keen look of mingled +sympathy and criticism. He saw that their minds were +working on absolutely different lines, but was by no +means sure that these lines might not be made to coincide +by a little gentle diplomacy. He recognised at +once in this upright and stalwart old gardener a man +of considerable power and influence, who might be a +valuable ally if won over to the cause. But he knew, +too, that the limitations imposed upon his intellect by +the manner of his life, and his opportunities of self-culture, +might form a serious barrier between them,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> +so he resolved to feel his way cautiously before advocating +openly any of those opinions of which he was +apparently the pioneer in these parts.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” he said, with a long-drawn breath, “that +hopeless apathy towards everything ennobling and elevating +comes from centuries of oppression and injustice. +Whilst men are forced to live like beasts, they will +grovel in the mire like beasts, and not even know that +they are treated like beasts. But let them be raised +out of their helpless misery and grinding poverty, and +their minds will grow healthy with their bodies. The +state into which the people of this land have fallen is +a disgrace to humanity; and all men of principle must +stand shoulder to shoulder together to strive to raise +and elevate them. It is a duty which in these days +is crying aloud to Heaven, and to which thinking +men in all countries are responding with more or +less of zeal and energy. Things cannot go on as they +have been doing. France has taught us a grim lesson +of what will happen at last if we continue to tread +down and oppress our humble brethren, as we have been +doing all these long years and centuries!”</p> + +<p>Eustace threw back his head, and the fire flashed +from his eyes. His nature was always stirred to its +depths by the thought of the wrongs of humanity. He +had not found round and about Penarvon quite that +amount of physical misery that he had heard described +in other places; yet he had seen enough of the bovine +apathy and stolid indifference of the rustics to rouse within +him feelings of indignation and keen anger. He argued +fiercely within himself that men were made into patient +beasts of burden just to suit the selfish desires of the +classes above them, who dreaded the day of reckoning +which would follow any awakening on their part to a +sense of their wrongs. The artisans of the Midlands +and the North had partially awakened, and from all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> +sides was the cry going up—the cry for justice, for a +hearing, for some one to expound their grievances and +make a way out of them. Their helpless rage had +hitherto been expended in the breaking of machinery, +which they took to be their worst enemy, and in riots +which had brought condign punishment upon them. +Now they were being taken in hand by men of wealth +and power, and were raising the cry of reform—crying +aloud for representation in Parliament—agitating for a +thing the nature of which they hardly understood, but +which they were told would bring help and well-being +in its wake. And men like Eustace Marchmont, with +generous ardour all aflame in the cause which they +held to be sacred and righteous, longed to see the +spread of this feeling through the length and breadth +of the land. The agricultural labourers were far more +difficult to arouse than the artisan classes had been; +but if the whole nation with one accord raised its voice +aloud in a cry for justice, would not that cry prevail in +spite of the whole weight and pressure brought to bear +against it, and carry all before it in a triumphant series +of long-needed reforms?</p> + +<p>So Eustace argued in his hot and generous enthusiasm, +and gently and cautiously did he strive to explain his +views to Abner and win his sympathy for them. Here +was a man who loved his fellows with a great and tender +love—in that at least the two men were in accord—but +whilst Abner thought almost exclusively of their immortal +souls, Eustace’s mind was entirely bent upon the improvement +of their physical condition. He was by no means +certain in his heart of hearts whether they possessed souls +at all. As to everything connected with the spiritual world +his mind was altogether a blank. There might or might +not be a life to come; he could not profess any opinion +of his own on such a point as that, but at least of this +present life he was sure, and his religion, in as far as he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> +could be said to have one, was directed with perfect singleness +of purpose towards the attainment of what he held +to be the loftiest aim and object a man could have, +namely, raising his fellow-men to a sense of their own +responsibilities and rights, to ameliorate their condition, +teach them self-restraint, self-culture, rational and intelligent +happiness, to give them sunshine in their lives +here, and a high code of moral ethics to live up to when +they were able to receive it.</p> + +<p>Something of all this did he strive to make plain to +Abner as he sat beside him at his work. That he succeeded +in winning the interest of his hearer was +abundantly evident from the expression of the thoughtful +intelligent face, and that the gardener understood a +good deal of the questions of the day appeared from the +nature of the questions and comments he made from time +to time.</p> + +<p>When Eustace had said his say there was silence for +a while, and he waited with some eagerness to hear the +effect produced upon the old man. He felt that Abner +was a power in the place, and that a good deal of his +own success might depend on how far he could get him +to be a partisan in the good cause. Abner was slow to +speak when his mind was not made up, and he was not +one to reach a conclusion in a hurry. It was some time +before he spoke, and then he said slowly and meditatively, +“There’s a deal of good in what you say, sir, and a deal +more good in what you mean; but yet for all that I can’t +quite see as you do. There’s something in it all that’s +like putting the cart before the horse, to use a homely +phrase, and that’s not a thing as is found to answer when +folks come to try it on.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I quite take your meaning, Tresithny.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir? Well, I’ll try to make it plainer like—that +is, if you care to hear what an old man like +me thinks, who has picked up his knowledge a bit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> +here and a bit there, and less from books than from +men.”</p> + +<p>“I do care,” answered Eustace, “and yours are the +best methods of gaining instruction. You are a man of +the people and a thinking man. I do value your opinion, +and should like to have it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, you shall. I am, as you truly say, a man +of the people, and I think I may lay claim to understand +my people as well as gentlefolks can do; and I’m very +sure of one thing, that I’d be very sorry to live in a +country where they were the rulers; for they haven’t +either the patience, or the knowledge, or the faculty of +government; and things will go badly for England if the +day comes when the voice of the people shall prevail as +the voice of God.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! but the people have to be elevated and educated +to be fit to rule,” said Eustace. “They are not fit now, I +admit, but we are to seek to raise them, body, soul, and +spirit, and then a vastly different state of affairs will be +brought about.”</p> + +<p>But Abner’s face was very grave, and anything but +acquiescent.</p> + +<p>“Sir,” he said, “I can’t see that as you do. I’ve read +a bit of history here and there, and I’ve seen too in my +own lifetime something of what comes when the voice of +the people prevails.”</p> + +<p>“It is not fair to charge upon the people the horrors +of the French Revolution,” interposed Eustace quickly. +“The tyrants who provoked it were the people really to +blame. They had made brutes and devils of the people, +and they only reaped what they had sown.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir, I know in part at least you are right. +We will say no more about history that may be open to +such arguments as yours. But we always have our Bibles +to go to when in doubt and perplexity, and we have it +there in black and white that the powers that be are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> +ordained of God, that riders and men of estate are to be +reverenced, obeyed, and feared, that we are to submit ourselves +to them as the ordinance of God.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, Tresithny, in moderation; and if they do +their duty on their side, that would be all right enough,” +answered Eustace, who began to feel that Abner was +taking an unconsciously unfair advantage of him in +adducing arguments drawn from Holy Writ, which had +no value for him whatsoever. “But when kings and men +of estate abuse their powers and become tyrannical and +oppressive, then the compact on both sides is broken, and +the people must stand up for themselves and their rights, +or they will only fall into absolute slavery.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, I can’t quite see that,” answered Abner +thoughtfully. “When St. Paul wrote by the power of +the Holy Ghost about the reverence due to the great +men and rulers of the earth, he was speaking in the main +of heathen tyrants, of whom he stood in peril of his +own life; but he still recognised them as the ordinance +of God, as our Lord Himself did when He stood at the +judgment-seat of Pilate. It isn’t that I deny the wrongdoing +of kings and nobles, but that I don’t think you’ve +got hold of the right way of making things better. I said +it was like putting the cart before the horse, and that’s +just how it appears to me.”</p> + +<p>“But you have not explained how.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, that’s soon done. My way of thinking +is this. God meant first of all, in the early dispensations, +to rule the world directly Himself, through His prophets +and faithful servants; but the hardness and perverseness +of man stood in His way, and so He gave them +rulers and governors of their own to be their natural +heads; and before the Christian dispensation had come, +this was the ordered method, and He Himself gave it +His sanction and blessing in many ways when He lived +on earth: ‘Render unto Cæsar the things that are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> +Cæsar’s,’ and so forth. Now, knowing that God has +ordained kings and rulers, it seems plain to me that we +should continue to give them reverence and honour; and +if the world is going wrong through those evils which you +speak of as abuses, that instead of the wise, and earnest, +and good men (such as yourself, sir) coming to the people +and trying to stir up in their hearts hatred and ill-will +towards those above them—which your doctrine will and +does do, sir, whether you mean it or not—you should go +to the kings and the nobles. Why not strive to stir <i>them</i> +up to do their duty by the people, to be just and merciful +and liberal, to cease from oppression where it exists, and +give them such things as are good for them to have +by free and willing pleasure, instead of teaching the +people to wring them from them little by little grudgingly +and unwillingly? If men like you, sir, and those +you have told me of, born to wealth and all that is great +in the world, can feel for the wrongs and distresses of +the poor of the land, surely others can be brought to +do the same, the more so when they learn that mercy +and liberality and justice are enjoined by God Himself. +Then the people would learn to love and trust those +above them, and would rejoice in their rulers as the +Lord means them to; but teach them discontent and +hatred and rebellion, and indeed, sir, I know not where +it will end.”</p> + +<p>Eustace smiled with something of covert triumph.</p> + +<p>“No; we do not know where it will end, save that +it will end in the emancipation of the people from +tyranny and oppression, which is what we aim for. That +is the fear which holds men back from the good cause; +but we are careless of that. Do what is right and leave +the rest: that is our maxim. You who are such a +theologian should know, Tresithny, that all things work +together for good.”</p> + +<p>“To those who love the Lord, sir,” answered Abner<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> +quietly, and then there was silence for a moment between +the men.</p> + +<p>“Your plan is not bad in theory, Tresithny,” broke +out Eustace, after a pause, “but practically it is unworkable +in these days. It would not accomplish our ends. +We should not be listened to. We are not listened to. +We are scouted and held in abhorrence of rulers.”</p> + +<p>“You might not be listened to all at once,” said Abner, +as the young man paused; “but neither will the people +listen all at once. You say yourself it will take a generation, +perhaps two or three, to accomplish what should +be done. Suppose those generations were given to the +other attempt—the striving to work upon the hearts of +those in high places to study the needs of the land, and +do justly by its humbler sons, might not there be hopes +of a better result? I am but an unlettered man; I am +scarce fit to dispute with you; but I think I know the +nature of the classes you wish to see holding power, and +I should not desire to be ruled by them.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, we must agree to differ in some things, I +see,” said Eustace, rising with a smile, and holding out +his hand in token of good-fellowship; “all this sounds +strange and sudden to you. Men’s minds have to grow +into new ideas. But at least you love your people—in +that we are agreed; and you would fain see them raised, +and their condition improved, if it could be achieved. In +that at least we agree. So we will part friends, and not +oppose each other, even though we each see the shield on +a different side.”</p> + +<p>Abner’s smile was pleasant to see, and Eustace sauntered +away, a little disappointed perhaps—for Abner’s +look of intellect had made him hope to win a disciple +here—but pleased and interested in the man, and by no +means despairing of winning him at last.</p> + +<p>A few days later the Duke spoke to him upon a subject +of keen interest to him. Both the Duke and his daughter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> +had kept themselves very much secluded since the funeral, +as was rather the custom of the day, although in their +case it was real broken-hearted sorrow which held them +aloof from all the world at this juncture. But February +came with sunshine and soft south winds, and the old +nobleman began to resume his ordinary habits, and was +pleased in his silent way to have a companion in Eustace. +The young kinsman was sincerely attached to the head of +his house, and his quick sympathies were aroused to real +tenderness for him in his great sorrow. He had hitherto +avoided any sort of speech that could possibly raise any +irritation in the Duke’s mind. Their talk had been of a +subdued and quiet kind, so that nothing had arisen to +disturb the harmony that existed between them.</p> + +<p>Yet Eustace knew that he and his kinsman differed +widely in thought and opinion, and that some day this +divergence must appear in their talk. He meant to +be very moderate and reasonable in all he might be +forced to say, but to hide his views either from cowardice +or motives of policy was a thing abhorrent to his nature, +and could not be contemplated for a moment.</p> + +<p>The first note of warning was struck one day when +the pair were riding together across a stretch of bleak +down. The Duke suddenly looked at his companion +and asked—</p> + +<p>“Do you ever think of standing for Parliament, +Eustace?”</p> + +<p>The young man flushed quickly.</p> + +<p>“I have had some thoughts of it,” he answered with +subdued eagerness, “but I do not know of any constituency +that would accept me. I am almost a stranger +to my country.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! yes—that German education of yours was a +great mistake—a great mistake,” said the Duke, with +drawn brow; but after a few moments his face cleared +and he drew rein, his companion following his example.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> +“But after all, you might manage it—it might be done. +Do you see yonder heap of stones away there to the +left? Well, that marks the site of an old manor belonging +to us. That heap of stones returns a member +to Parliament. <i>I</i> return the member, in point of fact, +as you doubtless know. The old member now sitting +is growing infirm and deaf: he feels the journeys +backwards and forwards too much for him. I think it +will not be long before he resigns. When he does so, +the borough will fall vacant, and I can give it as I please. +Then would come your chance, boy.”</p> + +<p>Eustace had flushed quickly; now he grew pale. The +whole iniquity of this system of rotten boroughs was +one of the flagrant abuses of the day, which he stood +pledged to sweep away. Whilst growing and opulent +cities like Manchester, Birmingham, and Sheffield had +no representation of any kind, a heap of stones, a lonely +field, a tiny group of hovels frequently returned a member +to Parliament. Practically the House of Lords returned +half the House of Commons, and the middle and lower +classes were scarcely represented in any way.</p> + +<p>Eager as Eustace was for a voice in the legislation +of the future, he hesitated to think of gaining it in +such a fashion.</p> + +<p>“You are very good, uncle, he said”—he found it +pleased the Duke to be so addressed. “But I am afraid +I should hardly be a candidate to your mind. Times +advance, and men’s views change, and I suspect that +mine and yours are scarcely in accord.”</p> + +<p>He had expected a sharp and almost scornful answer, +and certainly a close and sifting examination; but +nothing of the kind came, and looking into his kinsman’s +face, Eustace was surprised to see a strangely +far-away and softened expression stealing over it.</p> + +<p>“Times change!—ay, verily, they do—and men with +them,” he said, in a very gentle tone, “and we must<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> +learn to be patient with new ways and not condemn +them unheard. Boy, I am not fond of change. I have +lived my life from day to day and year to year in quiet +and peace, and I have not seen that good follows on +the steps of those things that men call reform. But +I am an old man now, and shall not be here much +longer. What I think matters little, so that the right +be done. Do not be afraid to speak to me freely. I +will, at least, hear you patiently. I have learned that +God’s purposes may be fulfilling themselves when we +can least see it. I may not agree, nor yet approve, +but at least I can strive after patience.”</p> + +<p>Greatly surprised at a development altogether unexpected +in the irascible old Duke, as he remembered +him in the past, with his intolerance of anything but +the strongest Tory statesmanship and the most conservative +fashion of regarding everything, Eustace +spoke with an answering moderation and sympathy, +ignoring nothing that was wise and good in the old +régime, but pointing out that the day for advance had +come, and that the good of the country was at stake. +He spoke well, for he had education and enthusiasm, +and had thought for himself as well as having learned +from others.</p> + +<p>The Duke rode on very silently, only putting in a +word here and there, but listening with close attention; +and as they entered the courtyard, at last, still in earnest +talk, he said—</p> + +<p>“I do not agree with you, Eustace. I cannot see +things as you do; but I will not go so far as to say +you are altogether wrong. There may be two sides to +the question, and we will talk more of it another time. +I am sorry you take such pronounced views upon a +side I hold to be in error, but you do so with pure +motives and honest conviction. Youth is always ardent, +and you are young. Perhaps in days to come you will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> +see that we are not altogether to blame for a state of +things such as exists in the country to-day. I have +lived longer than you have done in the world, boy; and +I do not think you are going to rid the world of sin, +misery, oppression, and degradation by your methods. +If you have strength to carry them, you will work a +silent and I trust a bloodless revolution; but you have +an enemy to fight stronger than you think for. You +may reduce the power of the Crown to a mere cipher. +You may abolish privilege, prerogative, and a hundred +other bugbears against which your ardent spirits are +chafing. But when you have hurled them down from +their places, do you think you will have contented +the seething masses you are stirring up to ask for +their ‘rights?’ Do you think crime, misery, vice, and +degradation will be lessened? <i>I</i> think they will +steadily increase, and that you will find yourselves, you +reformers, fifty years hence, face to face with problems in +comparison with which these before you now are but +molehills to mountains. But go your way, go your +way. Only experience can teach you your lesson; and +that is the dearest master you can have—and generally +teaches his lessons just a generation too late!”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b062.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b063.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br /> + +<i>MAN OF THE WORLD AND MYSTIC</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b001t.jpg" alt="T" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap2">“THERE be no zarvice in the church to-day, my +lady—not to St. Bride’s,” said a garden lad to +Bride one bright Sunday morning in February +as she was returning from a walk along the +cliff in time for the eight-o’clock breakfast. Eustace +had met her strolling homewards and had joined her. +This had happened once or twice lately, and the strangeness +of the feeling of having a companion was beginning +to wear off.</p> + +<p>“No service?” questioned the girl, pausing in her +walk. “Is Mr. Tremodart ill? I had not heard of it.”</p> + +<p>The lad scratched his head as he replied in the slow +drawl of his native place—</p> + +<p>“’Tisn’t ezactly that, my lady. Passon isn’t zick; +but he du have one of his hens a settin’ in the pulpit, +and zo he du not wish her distarbed.”</p> + +<p>Eustace broke into a peal of laughter. It seemed a +delicious notion to him that the service of the parish +church was to be suspended because an erratic hen had +chosen to sit herself in the sacred building. It chimed +in with many notions he already held of the effeteness +and deadness of the Church. He glanced into his companion’s +face for an answering smile, but Bride was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> +looking straight before her with an expression in her +liquid dark eyes which he was quite unable to fathom.</p> + +<p>“You can go to hear Mr. St. Aubyn at St. Erme, +George,” she said kindly to the lad, after a moment’s +pause, but he only scratched his head again, and said—</p> + +<p>“Mappen I’ll go tu Dan’s and year Maister Tresithny. +They du zay as he’ll read a bit out o’ the book and tell +folks what it all means.”</p> + +<p>“That will be better than getting into mischief,” said +the lady, with a grave though kindly look at the lad; and +then she passed onwards to the house, Eustace walking +beside her, smiling still.</p> + +<p>“Are the services of the Church often suspended here +for such weighty reasons?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Not often,” answered Bride, still in the same gravely +quiet way; “but Mr. Tremodart is hardly alive to the +sacredness of his calling nor the sanctity of his office. He +is a kind man, but he does not win souls by his teaching. +The church is very badly attended: no doubt he thinks +one service more or less of small importance. The people, +I believe, like him all the better for giving them an +occasional holiday from attendance, even though they may +be very irregular in coming.”</p> + +<p>“I should think that highly probable,” answered +Eustace, still examining Bride’s face with some curiosity, +as if anxious to gauge her thoughts on this subject +and to seek to find in them some accord with his own. +“My experiences of the services at St. Bride’s Church +are not very stirring. The smell of dry-rot suggests +the idea that it has been caught from the calibre of +the discourses heard there. Our friend Mr. Tremodart +may have many virtues, but he has not the gift +of eloquence.”</p> + +<p>Bride made no response. In her eyes there was a look +akin to pain, as though she felt the truth of the stricture, +and yet it went against her to admit its truth.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>Eustace waited for a moment and then continued in the +same light way—</p> + +<p>“And will the service of the parish church be suspended +for three Sundays?—for, if my boyish recollections serve +me, that is the time required by a hen for bringing off +her brood.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” answered Bride, with a quick earnestness and +energy, “that will certainly not be. Poor Mr. Tremodart, +he knows no better perhaps; but it is very, very sad. +I suppose it was only found out last night or this +morning. There was no sermon last Sunday, so I suppose +the eggs collecting in the pulpit were not noticed. Of +course they should have been taken away at once. But +Mr. Tremodart is very fond of his animals, and he does +not think of sacred things quite as—as—others do. Of +course it will be done before next Sunday. Oh, I am +sorry it has happened. I am sorry for the poor people.”</p> + +<p>Eustace could not understand her mood. He saw only +the humorous side of the incident, but he would not +say so to her. He was very anxious to approach nearer +in thought and feeling to his beautiful cousin, who was as +yet almost as much of a stranger to him as she had been +upon the day of his arrival. Although he saw her daily, +sat at table with her, and sometimes spent an hour over +the piano with her in the evening (for both were good +musicians, as things went in those days), he still felt as +though she were a thing apart from him, wrapped in a +world of her own of which he knew nothing. The barrier +which divided them was at once impenetrable and invisible, +yet he had never succeeded in discovering wherein +its power lay, and what might be done to break it down +and bring them together.</p> + +<p>“You will go to St. Erme’s Church to-day, I suppose?” +he said next, without trying to solve the problem suggested +by her speech. “I have never attended St. Erme for a +service, although I have met Mr. St. Aubyn. Will you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> +let me be your escort there? I suppose your father will +hardly walk as far.”</p> + +<p>“No, I think not. He seldom goes out when there is +no service at St. Bride. He does not care for Mr. St. +Aubyn’s preaching as I do: he prefers that of Mr. +Tremodart.”</p> + +<p>Eustace secretly thought it must be a queer sort of +preaching that could be inferior to that of the parson +of St. Bride’s; but he made no remark, and merely +asked—</p> + +<p>“Then you will let me be your escort?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” answered Bride quietly; “if you wish to +go, I think you will be rewarded.”</p> + +<p>Eustace felt that his reward would be in the pleasure +of the walk to and fro with his cousin; but he did not +say so, even though rather exaggerated and high-flown +compliments were then the fashion of the day more than +they have since become. Something in Bride’s aspect +and manner always withheld him from uttering words +of that kind, and his own honesty and common-sense +kept him at all times within bounds, so that he had never +acquired the foolish foppery that was fashionable amongst +the gilded youth of the aristocracy. In one thing at +least he and Bride were agreed—that life was given +for something more than mere idle amusement and +pleasure-seeking. And when they started off together +for their two miles’ walk across cliff and down for the +little church of St. Erme, Eustace began to ask questions +of her as to the condition of the people, their ignorance, +their poverty, their state of apathy and neglect, which all +at once aroused her interest and sympathy, and caused +her to open out towards him as she had never done +before.</p> + +<p>Bride loved the people—that was the first fact he +gathered from the answers she made him. She loved +them—and he loved them too. He was conscious that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> +they loved them with a difference—that when they spoke +of raising them and making them better and happier, +she was thinking of one thing and he of another. He +was conscious of this, but he did not think she was; +and he was very careful to say no word to check the +impulse of confidence which had arisen between them. +Bride was grieved for the state of things about her: +she mourned over the degradation, the apathy, the almost +bestial indifference to higher things that reigned amongst +the humble folks about her home. She spoke with a +glimmer as of tears in her eyes of their absolute indifference +to all that was high and noble and true; of the deep +superstitions, which stultified their spiritual aspirations, +and the blind error and folly of those who, turning away +from God, sought wisdom and help from those calling +themselves witches—many of whom did possess, or appear +to possess, occult powers that it was impossible altogether +to explain away or disbelieve.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Bride, it is very sad to hear of,” said Eustace +gravely, “and it all points to the same thing. We +must teach the people. We must raise them. We +must feed them with wholesome food, and then they +will turn away in disgust from these effete superstitions, +which are only the outcome of ignorance and degraded +minds.”</p> + +<p>“I fear me there is something worse in them than +that, Eustace,” said Bride, looking out before her with +that luminous gaze he often noticed in her, which suggested +a mind moving in a sphere above that of the +common earth. “It is the work of something more than +blind ignorance. It is the work of the devil himself. +The powers many of these witches exert is something +beyond what any mere trickery can account for. There +is an agency beyond anything of that sort—it is the devil +who endows these miserable beings with powers above +those of their fellows. God have mercy on the souls of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> +such! For in an evil hour, and for the hope of worldly +gain, they have placed their neck beneath an awful yoke, +and God alone knows whether for such there can be +pardon and restoration!”</p> + +<p>Eustace listened in silent amazement. He knew that +gross superstition reigned amongst the degraded and +ignorant; but he had always believed that it was confined +to them, and that those who had enjoyed the advantages +of education were far above anything so credulous as a +belief in a personal devil working through the medium of +men. It was an age when materialism and rationalism +in one form or another stalked triumphantly over the +earth. Spirituality was at a low ebb; the Catholic revival +was in its infancy. The wave of earnestness and +spiritual light which had been awakened by Wesley had +dwindled and spent itself, leaving many traces behind of +piety and zeal, but without accomplishing that work of +awakening its founders had hoped to do. The Court set a +bad example; the people followed it more or less. It was +an age of laxity both in morals and in thought; but the +prevailing tone of ordinary men was one of condescending +scepticism—tolerating religion, but believing that a +new era was coming upon the world in which Christianity +should be superseded by “natural religion”—a +thing far purer and higher in the estimation of its +devotees.</p> + +<p>That the world was evil, and in the greatest need of +reform, Eustace would be the last man to deny; but to +refer the gross superstitions of a benighted peasantry +to the direct agency of a personal devil savoured to +his mind of utter childishness, although possibly it was +not more logically untenable than a belief in a personal +Saviour, from whom proceeded all holy impulses, all +elevating and pardoning love, all earnest searchings after +the higher life. But if he was equally sceptical on both +of these points, he would fain have gauged the soul of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> +his companion, being keenly interested, not only in herself, +but in every aspect of thought as it presented itself +to minds of different calibre.</p> + +<p>“You mean that you still believe in a certain devil-possession?” +he asked tentatively; and Bride turned upon +him one long inscrutable glance as she answered, after a +long pause—</p> + +<p>“Has the world ever been without devil-possession of +one kind or another, varying infinitely in its forms, to +blind and deceive those who dwell on the earth? What +is sin at all but the work in men’s hearts of the devil +and his angels, ever prompting, deceiving, suggesting? +But where ignorance is grossest, and the light of God +shines least, there he finds the readiest victims to listen +to his seducing whispers.” She paused a moment, looked +first at Eustace, with the earnestness that always perplexed +and stimulated his curiosity, and then added, +in a much lower tone, “And are we not to look for +more and more indications of his powers, more manifestations +of them in forms of every kind, in the days +that are coming?”</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked Eustace, in a tone as low as hers.</p> + +<p>She clasped her hands lightly together as she made +reply—</p> + +<p>“Ah! because the days of the end are approaching—because +the great day of Armageddon is coming upon +us, and the armies of heaven and hell are mustering in +battle-array for that awful final struggle which shall +mark the end of this dispensation, in which the Antichrist +shall be revealed—the man of sin, in whom the great +apostasy shall be consummated, and whom the Lord shall +finally destroy when He rides triumphant to do the final +will of God, with the armies of heaven following Him on +white horses. And will the devil be idle when he knows +that his time is but short? Will he fail to send the strong +delusion to blind men’s eyes, and make them ready to hail<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> +the Man of Sin when he shall arise? Men have thought +that they saw him in the great conqueror whose power +was broken but a few short years ago; but there is +another and a greater to arise than he, and the devil is +working now in the hearts of men to prepare them for +his coming.”</p> + +<p>Eustace regarded her with keen interest and curiosity +as she spoke. Her face had kindled in a wonderful way. +In the liquid depths of her eyes there were strange lights +shining. That she saw before her as in a picture all that +she spoke of he could not doubt, nor yet that she hoped +herself to be numbered in the armies of the Lord of Hosts +when He went forth conquering and to conquer. He had +never before met mysticism carried to such a point, and it +stirred his pulses with quick thrills of wonderment and +curiosity.</p> + +<p>“But, Bride, I would understand more of this,” he said +very gently, so as not to rouse her from her trance of +feeling. “How do you know that the days of the end are +approaching so near? Why should not the world be, as +many believe her to be, still in her infancy?”</p> + +<p>“Because the voice of God has been awakened in the +Church,” answered Bride, in a low tense tone. “Because +God has at last answered the prayers of those who, ever +since those awful days of the uprising in France, have been +sending up supplications to His throne to send us light +and help from above. He has answered. He has shown +us through holy men, who have been, with fasting and +prayer, making study of the prophetic books of Scripture, +so long sealed to man, what all this stirring and uprising +of the nations portends; and He has told us that this is +the beginning of those judgments of God, which in the +last days He will pour out upon the earth, when the +apostasy of the world and of the Church shall be avenged, +and the Lord will purify the earth before He comes to +reign there. We know, because the voice of the Lord has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> +spoken it. But the world will not hear His voice. The +world will not listen; and the devil, for fear lest it should, +sends false voices—messages from the dead—teaches men +to inquire of spirits that peep and mutter, instead of inquiring +to the living God; and so we see an awakening of +the spirits of evil as well as of those of good; and so it will +go on, each party growing stronger and stronger; though +that of the evil one will have the seeming mastery, till the +final struggle shall be consummated, and the enemies of +God overthrown for ever.”</p> + +<p>Eustace was saved the perplexity of trying to find an +answer by the sudden approach of Mr. St. Aubyn (whose +old-fashioned rectory house they were now passing) just +as he turned out of his gate in the direction of the church. +He greeted Bride and her companion cordially, made them +promise to come to his house at the conclusion of the +service and refresh themselves before their walk home, +and then had them ushered into the rectory pew, which +was always empty at this time of year, for his wife was a +great invalid, and could only get out of doors in the most +genial season of the year.</p> + +<p>The little church of St. Erme was very antiquated, and +interesting to archæologists; but under Mr. St. Aubyn’s care +it had lost the air of neglect and desolation which was so +common in rural churches. The congregation was good for +the size of the place, and the service was reverently and +intelligently conducted. The sermon was very simple, in +accordance with the needs of the flock; but there was a +vein of spirituality and piety running through it that +struck Eustace as being unusual and original, and kept +alive his interest in the views of “pietists,” as he +classified them in his mind. He had been taught to +regard every form of belief or unbelief as a portion of a +classified system of speculation or philosophy; and he was +glad to think he might have an opportunity of some +conversation with Mr. St. Aubyn after the service, as he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> +had struck him on other occasions when they had met as +being a man of intellect and wide reading.</p> + +<p>The Rector himself escorted the guests to his house, and +Bride went upstairs to see the invalid, who reminded her +a little of her own mother, and whose presence always +acted on her soothingly and gratefully.</p> + +<p>She felt refreshed by the hour spent in that quiet room, +refreshed in body and mind. She had had food given her +to eat; and communion of thought with one who sympathised +with her, even where their opinions might not be +altogether in accord, was more to her in those days than +any bodily sustenance could be. Since her mother’s death +Bride had been shut up entirely within herself, and it is +not good for such an ardent soul as hers to be deprived of +the natural outlet of speech with her fellow-man.</p> + +<p>When the girl went downstairs again, she found the +two men deep in talk, and sat quietly down in a shadowy +corner to wait till they had finished. Mr. St. Aubyn +observed her entrance, though Eustace, whose back was +towards her, did not. The two were keenly interested in +their discourse, and continued it with animation. Bride +soon began to pick up the drift of it, and listened with +wonder and amaze, a sense of indignation and sadness +inextricably mixed together falling upon her as she realised +what it all meant.</p> + +<p>The two scholars were discussing the various phases of +German rationalism which had arisen close on the heels +of French and English deism; and from the tone taken +by Eustace it was abundantly evident that he was deeply +bitten by the philosophy of Wolff, by the destructive +rationalism of Semler and Bretschneider, and the subjective +philosophy of Kant and his followers, who evolve +all things in heaven and earth from their own consciousness +of them, on the principle that “cogito, ergo sum.”</p> + +<p>He had been educated at Jena and Weimar, where this +school of philosophy had its headquarters; and he was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> +deeply impregnated with the teaching of those who had +followed upon the first bold propounders of its doctrines. +The names of Descartes and Locke, Spinoza and Fichte, fell +glibly from his tongue, as he ran through in a masterly +way the methods of these great thinkers of the different +centuries, and strove to show how, one after another, each +in a different way had struggled to show a blinded world +that there could be no religion that did not appeal to the +reason; that the allegorical and the dogmatic methods +of interpreting Scripture had been tried in the balances +and found wanting, and that only the historic—the true +rational interpretation—could be found lasting with thinking +men.</p> + +<p>It was with a smile, and with great courtesy and patience, +that Mr. St. Aubyn listened to the clear and terse +arguments of his intellectual guest; and then he asked +him what he thought of the Berlin school of thought, +which had trodden quickly upon the heels of the one he had +been ardently advocating—asked him what had been the +teaching of Schleiermacher and Neander and De Wette, +and whether they had been able (whilst giving all due +weight to the value of reason) to remain where the destructive +rationalist thinkers had left them. Already +they had begun to strive to reconstruct a living and +personal Christ out of the ruins of the historic method, +which would have robbed Him of all but a shadowy +existence as a misguided though well-meaning fanatic, +deceiving and deceived. How was it men could never +rest without some theory of a Divine personality, call it by +what name they would? Was it not the most rational +deduction to admit that the reason for this inherent longing +(which none of the world’s greatest thinkers had ever +attempted to deny) was that the subjective philosophy +never can content the heart of man; that man <i>must</i> have an +object of worship, an external standard, a living Head, and +not an abstraction, simply because there <i>is</i> a living God,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> +who created him in His own image; because he <i>has</i> been +redeemed by a living and incarnate Saviour, and because +the Spirit of the Eternal God the Father and the Son is +for ever working in his heart, and seeking to bring it back +to uniformity with the heart of Christ, overflowing with +love towards God and towards man?</p> + +<p>That, in brief, was the argument on both sides, only +argued out at length with skill and knowledge and versatility +of thought by each combatant. Bride, in her dim +corner, sat and listened, and sometimes shivered in horror, +sometimes glowed with an ecstatic rapture, but always +listened with undivided attention, for these matters were +not to her the dry arguments of philosophers merely, but +indications of the spirit of perversity and blindness at work +in the world in the latter days—the spirit of the lawless one, +coming in every insidious form; first under the guise of +liberality of thought and intellect, then teaching men to +throw off from them all the fetters imposed by the precepts +of Christ, all the external authority of the Church; +paving the way for that other rising against kings and +rulers and external authority of any kind whatsoever +which she had been warned was one of the signs of the +latter days, when the voice of the people should prevail +once again, and they should give the power to him who +should come “in his own name.”</p> + +<p>But the discussion ended at last as all such do, each man +thinking as he did before, though glad of the opportunity +of exchanging ideas with a scholar and person of intellectual +acumen.</p> + +<p>“We can at least agree to differ,” said Mr. St. Aubyn, +as he shook hands warmly. “We can be friends, even +though we have our private thoughts about each other’s +folly. You are young yet. You have your tilt with the +world before you. It is natural to your age and temperament +to take nothing on trust, to examine all for +yourself. Perhaps in the days to come you may learn the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> +lesson which other philosophers of your own school have +done—that there is no living on systems and philosophies—that +the hungry human heart of man must have more +to feed on than husks. Well, there is the Bread of Life +waiting for you when you are willing to receive it. I +think the day will come when you will take it at the +hands of the all-forgiving and all-loving Father.”</p> + +<p>Eustace smiled, and pressed the hand he held. He was +no bigot, and he had a vein of poetical imagination within +him to which these words appealed. Besides, Bride was +standing by, and he would not willingly have pained her. +He did not know how much she had heard of the previous +discussion, nor how much she would have understood +if she had heard. He said his adieus cordially, +hoped he and Mr. St. Aubyn would often meet, and gave +his arm to his cousin to escort her home again.</p> + +<p>He was sufficiently thoughtful himself that his silence +did not strike him till they had walked some way; but +when he did strive to speak on subjects which generally +commanded her interest, he found her absolutely unresponsive.</p> + +<p>He looked at her, and saw that her face was cold +and tranquil in its statuesque beauty. The light which +so often beamed in her eyes was extinguished now. She +was very pale, and moved mechanically, and as though +with something of an effort. He asked her if she were +tired, but received a monosyllabic negative; and then he +made one more effort to interest her by a theme which +had never failed heretofore.</p> + +<p>The ignorance of the peasantry was with her, as with +him, a source of pain and dissatisfaction. She and her +mother had been planning, before the death of the latter, +how some small beginning might be made to get the children +taught just such rudiments of knowledge as should +raise them above the level of the beasts they tended. +Hardly a single labourer or respectable working man in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> +country districts could either read or write. Sometimes +a substantial farmer could do no more than set his name +to a bill; and clever lads, who might have raised themselves +in the world, were kept down and hampered all +their lives by the inability to master the rudiments of +education. Bride’s grief was that none of the villagers +and fisher-folks could read the Bible—that it must +remain to them a sealed book, save when others expounded +it to them. Eustace’s objection to ignorance +was very differently grounded; but hitherto the subject +had been one of common interest, and when together +they had taken pleasure in discussing Bride’s favourite +plan of erecting a small school in memory of her mother, +where such men, women, and children as could find +time and had the desire to learn might be taught by a +qualified person, and gradually win for the place a higher +standard of life and faith than was to be found in the +surrounding villages.</p> + +<p>But even this subject to-day did not rouse in the +girl any spark of her wonted interest. She looked at +him with steadfast sadness, as he spoke of what he +meant to try to do in this matter in other places (he +did not, from motives of delicacy, identify himself too +much with St. Bride in talking to his cousin), and said +very gently, but with a severity which was not altogether +without intention—</p> + +<p>“I am not sure that the people will not be better as +they are, Eustace, than taught as you will be likely to +teach them.”</p> + +<p>The young man flushed quickly. Philosopher though +he was, he was human, and this was a taunt he hardly +cared to let pass.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say that you think I should do +them harm and not good by helping them out of their +mists of darkness?” he asked, with slight incisiveness +of manner.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>“Do you think you <i>would</i> be helping them out of +the mists of darkness?” asked the girl, suddenly turning +her eyes upon him, with a look he could not fathom.</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” he answered quickly, and without hesitation.</p> + +<p>Her face was turned away then. He only saw the pale +pure profile outlined against the sky.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid not,” she answered, in a quiet serious way, +that indicated sadness if not depression; “there are worse +forms of darkness than intellectual darkness.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so?” he answered, in a tone that implied +absolute disagreement.</p> + +<p>“I know it,” she answered, without the smallest hesitation. +“Intellectual darkness is sad, carried to the extent +we see it here. But spiritual darkness is a thousand +times sadder, and, oh! how much more difficult to enlighten!”</p> + +<p>He said nothing. “Why try to argue with a fanatic?” +he thought, and they took their homeward way in silence.</p> + +<p>Bride left him at the castle door and went quietly up +to her room. Eustace stood looking after her.</p> + +<p>“You are very beautiful, my cousin,” he said to himself, +“and you fascinate me as no woman has fascinated +me yet; but you are a mystic and a fanatic both—and +both these are beings inexplicable to me—and yet I +shall try to find you out, and teach you that there are +nobler things a woman can be than you have dreamed +of as yet.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b077.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b078.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br /> + +<i>THE GOSPEL OF DISCONTENT</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b078s.jpg" alt="S" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">SAUL TRESITHNY was in a restless and disturbed +frame of mind just now. He did not +himself know what was creeping over him, but +he had been for some time now experiencing +a change of feeling,—a sense of weariness and disgust +with his daily toil, with the people about him, with the +world in general, that he had never felt before, and which +perplexed him not a little.</p> + +<p>A few weeks earlier, when this state had first assailed +him, he believed it to be the outcome of his growing +affection for Genefer, the farmer’s daughter, and thought, +if he could but assure himself that his affection was +returned, he should be himself once more; but in this +conjecture he had not proved right. Genefer had admitted +her preference for him; they held stolen interviews +at all manner of times in and about the farm; +she took care that his material comforts were greater +than they had ever been before, and he could (if he chose) +look forward to settling in life at no very distant date +with a wife and home of his own. And yet he was not +happy—he was more restless and discontented than ever +in his life before.</p> + +<p>Was it the monotony of farm labour that was the cause<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> +of this? Of course Saul and those about him had long +known that he could do much better for himself if he +wished. His grandfather had always told him that there +was a home open to him in his comfortable cottage if he +ever chose to avail himself of it, and that a wife of his +would be warmly welcomed to make the home bright and +cheerful for them both. He knew that the Duke would +at any time give him employment in his stables, for Saul +had a knack with horses that was well known all through +the neighbourhood, and often caused him to be summoned +to look at some refractory animal, and assist in the task +of breaking him. Mr. St. Aubyn had more than once +offered him the post of “odd man” at the rectory, +where his one servant kept the flower garden and looked +after the one stout cob which the Rector rode on his +parish rounds, and had a comfortable little cottage at the +gates for his home. But for some unexplained reason +Saul had always declined these chances of bettering +himself, and remained obstinately at his ill-paid farm +work, greatly to the satisfaction of the farmer, who had +never had so good an all-round man before, and who +always treated Saul with consideration and affability, +recognising qualities in him that he would have been +loth to part with.</p> + +<p>But perhaps no man of latent talent and energy is +really content long together in a life that gives no scope +for the exercise of his higher powers. Possibly it was +merely this sense of constraint and uselessness which +was at the bottom of Saul’s inexplicable and little understood +depression. However that maybe, he had certainly +taken to a mood of sullen brooding, which could hardly +be dignified by the name of thought. He avoided his +grandfather’s cottage on Sunday, preferring to work off +his oppression by taking long walks across the cliffs; +often finding himself in the little town of Pentreath +before he was ready for a halt; and it was in this place<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> +that he first began to know and hear something of the +questions of the day that were stirring in the great world +around his humble home.</p> + +<p>Newspapers never found their way to St. Bride’s, save +to the castle; but Saul had formed the acquaintance of a +cobbler in Pentreath, who was an ardent politician in his +own way, and, with the natural and unexplained bias of +his class, was a red-hot Radical to boot, and loved nothing +so well as to inveigh with untrained and perfervid eloquence +against the evils of the day—the oppression and +misery of the poor, the tyranny and licentiousness, the +cruelty and selfishness, of the rich. He prognosticated a +day when there should be a general upheaval and turning +of the tables, when every man should have his “rights,” +and the tyrants of the earth should quake and tremble +before their outraged slaves, as had been the case in +France but a generation ago—the fearful story of which +was well known to him, and over which he gloated with +eager delight, even in its most ghastly details.</p> + +<p>With this man we have no concern in these pages. +He was one of that class of demagogues and agitators +which was arising in England, and has flourished there +to a greater or less extent ever since. Hundreds and +thousands of these men were too obscure and too ignorant +ever to make a name in the world, but they acted on +the ignorant people about them as the leaven in the pan, +and did much to bring about the state of general discontent +and revolt which preceded the era of reform.</p> + +<p>All through the month of January, when Saul would +not spend his Sundays at the farm, on account of the +visits of young Farmer Hewett, who was his especial +aversion, he walked over to Pentreath and passed several +hours with the cobbler, whose acquaintance he had made +some time previously. At first the man’s talk had small +interest for him, but he had a natural thirst for information; +and great enthusiasm is like to kindle sparks in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> +minds of others, even when at first there seems small +sympathy between them. Almost in spite of himself, +Saul began to feel interested in the monologues and +diatribes of the bright-eyed little artisan, and whether +or no he agreed in his conclusions, he did come to have +some notion of the state of the country at this time, +the abuses which reigned there in many quarters, and +the general sense amongst the people that something +had got to be done to remedy this state of affairs—or +they would know the reason why!</p> + +<p>Thus it came about that when Saul first came into +contact with Eustace Marchmont, he was not in that state +of blank ignorance which was the usual attribute of the +rustic of those parts, but had been instructed, although +in a one-sided and imperfect way, upon the grievances +of his class, and had, at least, been aroused to a sense +that the world was all wrong, whether or not he was to +have a hand in the setting of it to rights.</p> + +<p>Eustace had seen Saul once or twice before he attempted +to speak with him. His fine presence always +attracted attention, and in his case the strong likeness +to Abner gave him another mark of interest for those +who knew the elder man. Eustace would have tried +to get speech with him before, being impressed by the +intelligence and character of the face, but had been +somewhat deterred from the fact that he heard Abner +had had the bringing up of the boy, and if so, he felt +he might not find there the sort of soil he wanted. +He liked a talk with the gardener at any time he +could get him to engage in conversation, but the two +never agreed in their conclusions. Both fully admitted +the evils of the day and the need for reformation, but +how that reformation was to be effected they never could +agree; and although they parted friends, and had a warm +esteem one for the other, Eustace secretly wished that +Tresithny either knew a little more or a little less, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> +that his uncle did not possess a servant of such strong +and peculiar views, and with so much influence in the place.</p> + +<p>If Saul should prove to be a disciple of his grandfather’s, +Eustace felt that it would be time wasted to +seek to win him to his own view of the situation; whilst, +on the other hand, if he could gain the young man as +a convert to the new gospel, such a recruit would be a +great power in his hand; for no one could look into Saul’s +dark handsome face, and note the development of brow +and head, without being certain that he possessed intelligence +beyond the wont of his fellows, and force of character, +which went farther in such a cause than keenness +of wits.</p> + +<p>But though Eustace often tried to get speech with +the young man in a casual and incidental way, he never +succeeded in doing so. He went to the farm from time +to time and made himself pleasant to the farmer and +his family. He walked about the place, and chatted +as occasion served with the broad-faced, soft-spoken +labourers, who grinned at any small sally he might make, +and looked bland, though deferential, if he spoke of +matters beyond their ken, as he had a way of doing tentatively, +although with an object in view. He began to +be talked of as a man with something in his head that +was quite unfathomable. All agreed that he was an +affable young gentleman, and well-spoken and friendly; +but the rustics were shy of him nevertheless, and his +chief friends were made amongst the bold and lawless +fisher and smuggling folks down in the cluster of hovels +beneath the shelter of the cliff. They were more or less +at war with the law as it was—at least with the excise +laws, which were the only ones about which they knew +or cared a halfpenny; and it was easy to convince them +that there was something rotten in the present system +of administering the law generally, and that the people +must combine to insist on a reformation. But even<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> +whilst winning grunts and snorts of approval from these +rough fellows, Eustace felt that his mind and theirs were +really poles asunder, and that the lawlessness they looked +upon as the embodiment of welfare and happiness was +an altogether different thing from that beautiful justice, +law, and order which he strove to believe was to come +into the world when his doctrines had leavened and +fermented and taken shape. Sometimes he was almost +disheartened with his want of success, wondering whether +this doctrine of discontent were a wise one to instil into +the minds of these wild, fierce fisher-folk. Some of the +conclusions they drew from his teaching startled him not +a little, as when one of them remarked that, since the +great folks were so tyrannical and wicked and selfish, +it would be no more that right and a just judgment to +lure them to their death by false lights some stormy +night, that their goods might fall a prey to the suffering +poor; and this savage suggestion was hailed with such +enthusiasm that Eustace was sternly horrified, and spoke +with terse eloquence against any such wickedness, only +to find, as other teachers and orators have found before +him, that though it was easy to convince men of the +truth of a doctrine towards which they were predisposed, +it was altogether another matter to hinder them from +deductions altogether false, and foreign to the matter in +hand, when these also were to their liking; and that +they were far less patient in listening to words that +opposed these deductions than they had been to those +which suggested them.</p> + +<p>It was after some such experiences as these that +Eustace had left the fishermen and striven to win the +friendship of the rustics, but had been met by the placid +stolidity and uncomprehending ignorance which seemed +to form almost as absolute a barrier between them as +the lack of reason and speech in brute beasts. Indeed, +they and their sheep and oxen seemed to understand<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> +each other better than he and the labouring men upon +the land. It was discouraging and uphill work from first +to last; and the one man whom he really desired to gain, +and felt certain possessed the stamp of mind and the +intelligence he longed to meet, avoided him with a persistence +which led him to the conclusion at last that +Tresithny had warned his grandson to have no dealings +with the gentleman from the castle.</p> + +<p>But accident led at last to a meeting, and from that +meeting dated the train of circumstances which led to +a strange but lasting friendship between the two men +whose walks in life lay so widely apart.</p> + +<p>Eustace was out upon the downs riding a mettlesome +young horse from the Duke’s stable. He was a fearless +horseman, but not an experienced one. During the +years he had spent in travel and in Germany, horse exercise +had not come much in his way, save as a means +of locomotion, and then the animals ridden had not been +of a fiery kind. He had a firm seat and a steady hand, +but he was by no means familiar with the tricks of a +flighty young mare, when the spring of the year sets +the hot blood of all young things stirring joyously in +their veins, and incites them to all sorts of vagaries and +extravagant gambols. Eustace was possessed with the +master-mind that must always gain the upper hand of +any creature under his control; and perhaps he was a +thought too stern in his desire after discipline; for in lieu +of indulging the wild spirits of his steed with a healthy +gallop over the short elastic turf, which might soon have +reduced her to quietness and submission, he held her +with a strong firm hand, resolved that he and he alone +would decide the time when her limbs should be allowed +to stretch themselves as they longed to do;—with the effect +that the beautiful, high-spirited creature, fretted beyond +the limits of endurance, commenced to buck-jump with +such alarming persistence and velocity, that Eustace was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> +at last unseated, and measured his length ignominiously +upon the short turf, whilst his horse, tossing her dainty +head with a gesture of visible triumph, set off at a mad +gallop straight across the green down, which she hardly +seemed to touch with her feet.</p> + +<p>Eustace was not hurt. He had kicked his feet free of +the stirrups before he slipped off, and the ground was +soft. The mare had avoided touching him with her feet +as she sped off, and, save for the humiliation of the fall, +and the fear lest the horse should be hurt, Eustace cared +little for the accident. He could no longer see the flying +steed. The ridge of swelling down hid her from him; but +he picked himself up and wondered what he should do +next, and whether the creature would find her way home or +should be pursued, for she had not headed for her stable, +but had gone tearing away over the green turf in a diagonal +direction. Brushing the traces of his accident from +his clothes, Eustace slowly mounted the low ridge, and +then to his relief saw a horseman cantering towards him +up the opposite side. A second glance told him that the +horseman was none other than Saul Tresithny, and that +he was mounted upon the runaway mare, whom he had +evidently captured before she had had time to do herself +a mischief.</p> + +<p>Two minutes later Saul had come to a standstill beside +him, and was on his own feet in a twinkling.</p> + +<p>“I hope you are not hurt, sir,” he said shortly.</p> + +<p>“Not at all, thank you—only humiliated. I did not +mean to let her have her own way, but she took it in +spite of me. How did you manage to catch her? And +how come you to be so good a rider? You manage her +far better than I do.”</p> + +<p>“I broke her in, you see, sir,” answered Saul, who was +stroking the glossy foam-flecked neck of the beautiful +creature, whilst she dropped her nose into his palm, and +was evincing every sign of satisfaction in the meeting.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> +“His Grace bought her from Farmer Teazel. She was +bred on these downs, and I had the breaking of her. +She’ll make a capital hunter one of these days; but it’s +not every rider she’ll let mount her, nor yet keep mounted +when once they’ve been on her back. She’ll give you +some trouble, I expect, sir, the next time you try to ride +her. But Lady Bride can guide her with a silken thread. +She took to her ladyship from the first moment she +mounted her.”</p> + +<p>“And she seems to take to you too. I think your name +is Tresithny, isn’t it? You are grandson to the gardener +at the castle?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” answered Saul, and said no more, holding +the stirrup for Eustace to mount, but without anything +the least servile or obsequious in his attitude. The young +man noted also in his speech the absence of the vernacular +peculiarities that characterised all the ordinary rustics of +the place. Saul’s voice was soft, and his speech had an +intonation that bespoke him a native of these parts, but +that was all. Just as it was with the grandfather, so it +was with the grandson: they could put off the dialect +when they chose, and use it when they chose. Abner +had early taught his young charge the same purity of +diction as he had acquired himself, and in speaking to +his superiors Saul adopted it naturally.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I’ll ride again just yet, thanks,” said +Eustace, with his frank and pleasant smile. “If you don’t +object, I’ll walk your way, Tresithny. I’ve often wanted +to talk with you, but I’ve never had the opportunity +before.”</p> + +<p>Saul’s face was not responsive; but he was too well +trained to refuse to lead the horse for the gentleman +when asked, and after all it was not so very far back to +his work, where he must of necessity shake off this +undesirable companion.</p> + +<p>“I want to speak to you, Tresithny, about the cause<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> +which (in addition to the death of the Duchess) brought +me just now into these parts. You know of course that, +in the natural order of things, I shall one day be master +here. It is not a position I covet. I hold that there is +great injustice in making one man ruler and owner of +half a county perhaps, and of huge revenues, holding vast +powers in his hand whether he be capable or not of ruling +wisely and well—simply from an accident of birth, whilst +hundreds and thousands of his fellow-men are plunged in +untold misery, and vice that is the outcome of that undeserved +misery. I believe myself that the whole system of +the country is rotten and corrupt, and that the day has +come when a new and better era will dawn upon the +world. But meantime, in the present, I have to look +forward to succeeding his Grace, and I am naturally +very greatly interested in the people of this place, and +intensely anxious to see them elevated and ennobled.”</p> + +<p>Saul suddenly looked at the young man as he had never +looked at him before, and said between his teeth—</p> + +<p>“That’s a strange thing for <i>you</i> to say, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Why strange?” asked Eustace, half guessing the +answer,</p> + +<p>“Because, sir, if once the people begin to think for +themselves, to see for themselves, and to understand the +meaning of things around them, they soon won’t stand +what they see—won’t stand that one set of men in the +country should have everything, and roll in wealth and +wallow in luxury, whilst they can’t get bread to put in +their children’s mouths. They’ll think it’s time their turn +came—as they did in France, I’ve heard, not so very long +ago, and that’ll be a bad day for you and for all those +like you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Eustace, with emphasis, “such a bad +day for us, and (if <i>that</i> form of revolution were repeated) +such a bad day for England too—ay, and for you, Tresithny, +and your class—that we men who recognise and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> +deplore the injustice and tyranny of the present system +are resolved to try and prevent it by making the people’s +cause ours, and ridding them of their grievous wrongs +before they shall have been goaded to madness and rise +in ignorant savagery, and become butchers and not reformers. +The French Revolution turned France into a +veritable hell upon earth. What we are striving to +accomplish is to bring a day of peace and plenty, and +justice and happiness upon England, without the shedding +of one drop of blood, without any but gentle measures, +and the increase of confidence and goodwill between class +and class.”</p> + +<p>“And do you think you are going to do it?” asked +Saul, with a grim look about his mouth, which Eustace +did not altogether understand.</p> + +<p>“I think so—I trust so. Earnest and devoted men of +every class are banded together with that object. But, +Tresithny, we want the help of the people. We want the +help of such as you. What is the use of our striving to +give their rights to the people if they remain in stolid +apathy and do not ask for them? We must awaken and +arouse them; we must teach them discontent with their +present state of misery and ignorance, and then open the +way for them to escape from it. Do you understand at +all what I mean? We must awaken and arouse them. +They are—in this part of the world, at least—like men +sleeping an unnatural drugged sleep. The poison of +ignorance and apathy is like opium in its effects upon +their spirits. We must awaken and arouse them before +there is hope for cure. Tresithny, we want men of +intelligence like you to help in this work. You know +their ways and their thoughts. You can appeal to their +slumbering senses far better than we can do. We want +to interest those who live with them and amongst them, +and whose language they understand as they cannot +understand ours. There is a great work to be accomplished<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> +by such as you, Tresithny, if you will but join the good +cause.”</p> + +<p>Saul was roused by a style of talk for which much of +his recent brooding had prepared the way, and made a +reply which showed Eustace that here at least there was +no impassable barrier of ignorance or apathy to be overcome. +In ten minutes’ time the men were in earnest talk, +Eustace giving his companion a masterly summary of the +state of parties and the feeling of the day (vastly different +from anything he had heard before, and before which +his mental horizon seemed to widen momentarily), and +he joining in with question and retort so apt and pointed, +that Eustace was more and more delighted with his +recruit, and felt that to gain such a man as Saul Tresithny +to his side would be half the battle in St. Bride’s.</p> + +<p>But even here he could not achieve quite the success he +coveted. He could implant the gospel of discontent easily +enough—the soil was just of the kind in which the plant +would take ready root; but with that other side of the +doctrine—that endeavour to make men distinguish between +the abuses, and the men who had hitherto appeared to +profit by them—ay, there was the rub!</p> + +<p>“You speak, sir, sometimes of doing all this without +making the people hate their tyrants and their oppressors; +but that isn’t human nature. If they’ve a battle +to fight against those that hold the power now, and if +they are stirred up to fight it, they will hate them with +a deadly hatred; and even when the victory is ours, as +you say it will and must be one day, the hatred will go +on and on. It’s in our blood, and it’ll be there till the +world’s end. We may forget it whilst we’re sleeping; +but once you and the like of you wake us up, it won’t +sleep again in a hurry; no, and it shall not either!” And +the young man raised his arm and shook his fist in the +air with a wild gesture, as though hurling defiance at the +whole world.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>“Ah! Tresithny, that is a natural feeling at the outset; +and although we regret it, we cannot wonder at it, nor try +to put it down with too strong a hand. But it is not the +right feeling—and the right one will prevail at last, as +I fully hope and trust. When we are boys at school +and under restraint, against which we kick and fret, +we look upon our masters as natural enemies; yet as we +grow to manhood and meet them again, they become +valued friends, and we laugh together over former animosities. +And so it will be when the great work of reform is +carried out in the generous spirit that we strive to instil; +and you amongst others will be the first to hold out the +hand of fellowship to all men, when wrongs have been +righted, and society has come forth purified and ennobled +by the struggle.”</p> + +<p>“Never!” cried Saul, with a look of such concentrated +hatred that Eustace was startled. “You may talk till +you are black in the face, sir, but you’ll never talk out +the hatred that is inborn between class and class. I know +what that is. I am a man of the people, and for the +rights of the people I am ready to live and to die. But +I <span class="allsmcap">HATE THE RACE OF TYRANTS AND OPPRESSORS</span>. I hate, +and shall always hate and loathe them. Do not talk to +me of goodwill and friendship. I will have none of it. +I would set up a gallows over yonder, if I had my way, +and hang every noble of the land upon it—as the French +set up their guillotine, and set the heads of the king and +queen and nobles of the land rolling from it!”</p> + +<p>This was not by any means the spirit Eustace had +desired to kindle in his disciple; but, after all, might not +such sentiments be but the natural ebullition of enthusiasm +in one who was young, untrained, and ardent? Certainly +it was preferable in his eyes to apathy, and he was not +disposed to strain the relations newly set up between them +by opposing such sanguinary statements.</p> + +<p>“The wrongs of humanity do indeed set up a strong<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> +sense of righteous indignation,” he said quietly; “but, +believe me, the fierce and sanguinary revolutions of history +have not had half the lasting effects of the bloodless +ones accomplished by nations within themselves, by the +accord of all classes concerned. That is what we are now +bent upon striving to accomplish. We want your help, +Tresithny, but not all the bloodthirsty eagerness you are +disposed to give us. You must temper your zeal with +discretion. Have you any personal cause to hate the +so-called upper classes as you do?”</p> + +<p>The young man’s face was so dark and stern that +Eustace almost repented of his question.</p> + +<p>“Have I?—have I? Have I not, indeed! The upper +classes! Ay, indeed, they are well called! Oh, can I but +help to hurl them down to the dust, my life will not +have been lived for nothing!”</p> + +<p>Eustace looked earnestly at him.</p> + +<p>“Can you not tell me what you mean, Tresithny? +Believe me, I would be your friend, if you would permit it. +I have seen no one since I came here in whom I take so +warm an interest.”</p> + +<p>There was this about Eustace that always made him +popular wherever he went, and that was his perfect sincerity. +When he spoke words like these, it was obvious +that he meant them, and those whom he addressed felt +this by instinct. Saul did so, and the fierce darkness +died out of his face. He turned and looked into Eustace’s +eyes, and Eustace returned the glance steadily, holding +out his hand as he did so.</p> + +<p>“I mean what I say, Tresithny,” he said, with a smile. +“If you will have me for a friend, I will be worthy of +your confidence.”</p> + +<p>And then Saul, by a sudden impulse, put his hand into +that of the Duke of Penarvon’s heir, and the compact was +sealed.</p> + +<p>“I will tell you my story, or rather my mother’s story,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> +he said, after a few moments of silence, “and then perhaps +you will understand what I have said. It is common +enough—too common, perhaps, to interest you; but to +me it can never become common. My grandfather was +gardener to the Duke. He had a loving wife, and one +daughter, whom they both loved as the apple of their eye. +When she was old enough to do something for herself, she +was taken into the castle and rose to be second maid to +her Grace, who was always very kind to her attendants, +and took pains that the girl should be taught many things +that would be of value to her as she grew up in life. +There was plenty of fine company at the castle then: it +was before Lady Bride was born, and her Grace’s health +gave way. Of course I cannot tell what went on; but a +day came when my mother disappeared from St. Bride, +and none knew where she had gone. It killed her mother, +for there was no manner of doubt but that she had been +persuaded to go with or after one of the fine gentlemen +who had been visiting there.”</p> + +<p>“Or one of their servants,” suggested Eustace, very +quietly.</p> + +<p>For a moment Saul paused, as though such an idea had +never entered his head before, as indeed it never had +done. He had heard very little of his young mother’s +mournful tale, but he had always believed that she left +her parents for the protection of one of the Duke’s fine +popinjay friends.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” he answered sullenly, “but they all +said it was a certain gentleman. She broke her father’s +heart, and killed her mother, and came back at the end +of a year to die herself. She could never tell her story—or +would not—whether or not she had been betrayed. +That we shall never know; but she left me behind her to +my grandfather’s care, and I have grown up knowing all. +I never would enter the castle as servant. I never would, +and I never will. I will carry my enmity to your class,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> +sir, to my life’s end, and I will fight against it with +might and main, and with all the powers that I have. I +have taken your hand in friendship, because I see you +mean well by us, and because I cannot help it; but I will +never do so a second time. I will not make a second +friend of one above me in rank. I will keep the right to +fight against them and to hate—<i>hate</i>—<span class="allsmcap">HATE</span> them—and +not all your honeyed pleadings can change that. Now I +have told you all, and you can choose whether you will +have me or not; for it will be war to the death when I +fight, and you may as well know it first as last!”</p> + +<p>Eustace smiled at the vehemence of his disciple as he +said quietly—</p> + +<p>“We will have you, Saul, hatred and all. You are too +useful a tool to be spared because your edge is over sharp.”</p> + +<p>And thus the compact was sealed between them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b093.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b094.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br /> + +<i>THE KINDLED SPARK</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b094i.jpg" alt="I" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">“I DON’T approve of it,” said the Duke, bringing +his hand down upon the table with an emphasis +that made all the glasses on it ring. “You +may talk as you will, Eustace; you may mix +argument with sophistry as much as you like, but you’ll +never make black white by all the rhetoric of the world. +I don’t like it. I don’t like the whole movement, and I +don’t believe that good will ever come of it; but leaving +alone that point, on which we shall never agree, I hold +that your methods are vile and hateful. You are setting +class against class; you are rousing ill-will and stirring +up hatred and enmity; you are teaching men to be discontented +with their position in life——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, I know I am, because they <i>ought</i> to be +discontented with degradation, ignorance, and hopeless +misery. There is no reason why it should continue and +increase as it does. We want them to be disgusted and +discontented with it. Would there ever have been any +civilisation and culture in the world had men always +been contented to remain exactly in the position in which +they were born?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk your stump-orator nonsense to me,” said +the old Duke sternly. “Confusion of terms does all very +well to blind and deceive an ignorant mob; but keep it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> +for them, and don’t try to advance your flimsy arguments +by using it to men who can think and reason. The +gradual growth of science and art and learning—the +building on and on from an original foundation as the +mental horizon extends—is generically different from the +aimless discontent and selfish desire to rob and plunder, +which is the outcome of the vaunted discontent you wish +to inspire in the breasts of the people; and you know it as +well as I do. You may keep <i>that</i> sort of talk for those +who cannot see through it, and answer the fool according +to his folly. But when you have men to deal with, and +not ignorant children, you must think of sounder arguments +if you desire to be listened to patiently.”</p> + +<p>Eustace flushed rather hotly at the taunt, which was +hardly deserved in his case, although he was aware that +his cause—like too many others—was promoted by means +of arguments which could be torn to shreds by any shrewd +thinker. But for all that, he had a profound belief in the +gospel of discontent as the most powerful factor in the +world’s history, and he used it with a genuine belief in it, +not with the desire to promote confusion in the minds of +his hearers. But he did not reply to his kinsman’s sharp +retort, and after a brief pause the Duke recommenced his +former diatribe.</p> + +<p>“I have been patient with you, Eustace. I recognise +fully your position here, and that you have a certain latitude +with regard to the people which would be accorded to +no one else; but——”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, uncle, I hope you do not think I have presumed +upon that,” cried Eustace, with almost boyish +eagerness, and a sidelong look at Bride, who was leaning +back in her chair, a silent but watchful spectator of the +little drama, and a keenly interested listener to the +frequent arguments and dialogues which passed after +dinner between her father and her cousin. It had become +a regular custom with them to discuss the questions of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> +day during the hour they passed at the exit of the +servants and the advent of dessert. Neither of them were +drinkers of wine, but both were accomplished talkers; and +Bride, though seldom speaking, had come to take a keen +interest in these discussions, which were adding to her +store of facts, and admitting her to regions of debate +which had hitherto been sealed to her. She was not +ignorant of the events passing in the world. She had +read the newspapers to her mother too regularly for that; +but naturally she had not seen those organs of the press +which advocated the new and more liberal ideas coming +then into vogue; and many of her cousin’s harrowing +pictures of the fearful miseries of certain classes of the +community haunted her with terrible persistency, and +awakened within her an impotent longing to be able to +do something to rescue them from such degradation and +misery.</p> + +<p>Her father, too, listened to Eustace with a moderation +and patience which surprised her not a little, since up till +the present time the very name of Radical filled him with +disgust, and provoked him to an outbreak of scornful +anger. If Eustace did not openly proclaim himself one +of this party, he was advocating every principle of reform +with all the ardour of one; and yet, until the present +moment, the Duke had heard him expound his views, and +had answered his arguments with considerable patience, +and often with a certain amount of sympathy. To-day, +however, the atmosphere was more stormy. Something +had occurred to raise the displeasure of the old man, and +soon it became apparent what the grievance was.</p> + +<p>“I do not accuse you of presuming upon that,” he said, +still speaking sternly—“not intentionally, at any rate; +but you do wrong in being led blindfold by your youthful +and headstrong passions, and by teaching others to follow +in your wake, without your substratum of sense and +moderation. That young Tresithny has been openly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> +teaching the people in St. Erme’s and St. Bride’s to set +law and order at defiance, and if necessary to avenge +their so-called ‘wrongs’ at the sword’s point. He is +collecting a regular following in the place, and there will +be mischief here before long if things go on at this rate. +On inquiry I found, of course, that he has been seen +frequently in conversation with you, Eustace. Of course +the inference is plain. You are teaching him your views, +and trying to make a demagogue and stump-orator of +him, with apparently only too much success. And he is +just the type of man to be most dangerous if he is once +aroused, as you may find to your cost one of these days, +Eustace.”</p> + +<p>“Most dangerous—or most useful—which is it?” +questioned Eustace thoughtfully; yet, remembering some +of the words and looks that had escaped Saul during +their conversations, he could hardly have answered that +question himself.</p> + +<p>“From whom have you heard this?” he asked. Eustace +had himself been absent from the castle for a few days, +spending his time in the neighbourhood, but not returning +to his kinsman’s house to sleep. He had returned this +day only, to find the Duke’s mood somewhat changed, +and he began now to suspect the cause of this.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Tremodart is my informant,” answered the Duke +briefly. “He will give you any information on the subject +that you desire. I shall say no more. The subject is +very distasteful and painful to me. I am well aware that +I am growing old, and that the world is changing around +me. I know perfectly that no power of mine will suffice +to stem the current, and I shall therefore refrain from +futile efforts. But none the less does it pain me that one +bearing my name, and coming after me when I am gone, +should be one of the foremost to stir up strife and set +class against class, as you are doing, Eustace. And let me +add just one more word of warning. It is an easy thing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> +to set a stone rolling down a hill-side; but no man can +foresee where it will stop when once in motion, and no +human power can stop it when once the impetus is upon +it. It will go hurtling down, carrying death and destruction +with it; and those who have set it in motion can +simply stand helplessly by, looking with dismay at the +ruin they have provoked. Beware how you set in motion +the forces of anarchy, Eustace, for Heaven alone knows +what the end will be when that is done!” and the old +man rose from his seat and walked from the room with a +quiet and sorrowful dignity of aspect which struck and +touched both his hearers. It was so unusual for him to +break through the trifling ceremonial rules of life, that the +very fact of his leaving the table before his daughter had +risen showed that he must be greatly disturbed in mind. +Bride looked after him with wistful eyes, and then suddenly +turned upon Eustace with an imploring air, which was +harder still to resist.</p> + +<p>“You will not go on grieving him, Eustace!” she +pleaded; “you will give it up?”</p> + +<p>“Give what up, Bride?” he asked quietly.</p> + +<p>“The actions which grieve him, which stir up strife in +our peaceful community, which rouse hatred and foment +discontent. Ah! Eustace, if you would only give yourself +to a nobler task, how much you might do for the cause +of right!—whilst now you are, in the hope of doing good, +fomenting the worst passions of the human heart, and +leading men to break not only the laws of man, but those +of God.”</p> + +<p>Perhaps never before had Eustace been so strongly +tempted as at that moment to abandon the cause to which +he was pledged. Through all the weeks he had spent +beneath the roof of Castle Penarvon, he had been conscious +of two strong influences working upon him—one the desire +to enkindle in the minds of the ignorant rustics the spark +of discontent and revolt against needless wrongs, which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> +should result in reformed legislation, and the raising of +the whole country; the other, the keen desire to win for +his wife the beautiful and unapproachable girl he called +cousin, and who every day exercised over him a stronger +and stronger power. With him it had been a case of love +almost at first sight. Eustace was one of those men who +are always striving to attain and obtain the best and +highest good which the world has to offer, not as a matter +of preference only, but as a matter of principle. Hitherto +he had never seen a woman who stirred his heart, for he +had never seen one who in any way corresponded to +the lofty ideals of womanhood which he had kept pure +within him from boyhood. His whole mind and soul had +been given to study, to learning, and to the attainment +of those objects upon which, as his mind matured, his +whole being became set. Woman as an individual had +neither part nor lot in his life until he met his cousin +Bride, and knew before he had been many days at +Penarvon that in her he had found his ideal. That she +was a mystic, that she held extraordinary and altogether +impracticable views of life, and lived in a world of her own +which could never be his, he was perfectly aware; but +then he was also aware that the ideal woman of his dreams +must likewise live a life apart, wrapped in her own pure +imaginings and Divine ideals, until the power of love +should awake within her another and a deeper life, and +bring her to a knowledge of joys hitherto unknown. A +sceptic himself, he was in nowise daunted to find that +the woman of his choice was as devout, and almost as full +of mystic fervour, as a mediæval nun. Somehow it all +pieced in with his preconceived ideas of perfect womanhood, +and he said within himself that this single-minded +devotion and power to lead the higher life, when directed +into other channels by the kindling touch of a +great love, was exactly the force and power most needed +for the work which must be that of his own life and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> +of hers who became bone of his bone and flesh of his +flesh.</p> + +<p>The cause was first with him, the woman second, when +Bride was not present; but when confronted by her soft +deep eyes, when beneath the spell of her thrilling voice and +the magnetic attraction which, with absolute unconsciousness, +she exercised upon him, he was often conscious that +the cause was relegated to the second place, and that the +desire to win this woman for his wife took the foremost +position there. It was so just at this moment. The words +spoken by the Duke had struck somewhat coldly upon him. +They were the echo of a thought which sometimes obtruded +itself unsuggested when he was in conversation with those +very men of whom he hoped most in the forwarding of the +cause—the thought that after all he and such as he were +playing with edged tools, and were rather in the position +of boys experimenting with explosives of unknown force. +They might safely reckon that what they desired might be +accomplished by their means, but were they equally certain +that, whereas they only meant to break down and overthrow +certain obstructions which were standing in the way +of progress and a better order, the forces they had set in +motion might not sweep over all appointed bounds and +land them in a state of confusion and anarchy they never +contemplated for a moment at the outset? This was, he +knew, the cry of all supporters of the old order, the time-honoured +cry against any sort of progress or reform. But +might there not be perhaps some sound substratum of +truth at the bottom?—and were he and his comrades wise +to listen always with a smile of pity, and even of contempt, +when that plea was brought forward?</p> + +<p>Just for a moment, under Bride’s pleading glances, +under the impression produced by the Duke’s warning, +Eustace was tempted to fling to the winds everything +save his overmastering desire to call Bride his own, to win +her love even at the sacrifice of his own career; but before<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> +the burning thoughts had been translated into words +or had passed his lips, other and cooler considerations +pushed themselves to the front, and he checked himself +before attempting a reply. After that his words were +chosen with care, and fell quietly and resolutely from his +lips.</p> + +<p>“I would do much, very much, for you and for your +father, Bride; but I cannot, even for you, be untrue to +myself, and to the cause of suffering humanity. The +woes of our brethren are crying aloud for redress. +Christianity and humanity are alike disgraced by the +scenes which are daily enacted in this Christian land. +Believe me, Bride, you and I are nearer in heart than +you are able yet to see. You have lived your life in +this peaceful spot, and know little or nothing of the +fearful abuses which stalk rampant through the land. +Did you know what I know, had you seen what I +have seen, you would know that I am embarked upon a +righteous cause, and that the power you call God—which +is in very truth the spirit of justice, mercy, and true and +lasting peace—is with us. I do not deny that, in stirring +up men’s hearts, even in a righteous cause, evil and +selfish passions are too often inevitably stirred also. +Human nature finds it all but impossible to hate the +abuse without hating those who in their eyes at least +are the living embodiment of that abuse. We have a +twofold mission to execute—to rouse in men a hatred +of evil and oppression, whilst at the same time striving to +inculcate patience towards those who appear to them +to be the incarnation of that evil. The one task is of +course easier at the outset than the other; but we do not +despair of accomplishing both. No reformation of abuses +was ever yet made without the stirring up of evil passions—without +many and great dangers and mistakes; +yet the world has been better, and purer, and wiser for +these same reforms, and so it will be again. Ah! Bride,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> +my beautiful cousin, we want noble-hearted women to +aid us in the task. If we men can rouse the slumbering +to claim the rights of humanity for themselves, you +women can pour oil on troubled waters, and instil gentle +and tender feelings into rude hearts that we find it hard +to subdue. If you would walk hand in hand with me +in this thing, Bride, how much might not be accomplished +for Penarvon and those poor benighted people +in whom your own interest is so keen! Bride, will you +not let it be so? Will you not help me? Will you not +help a cause which is pledged to raise the people of this +land from misery and degradation, and teach them that +even for them there is a higher and a better life, if they +will but strive and attain to it?”</p> + +<p>The girl’s eyes were fixed upon his face in one of her +inscrutable gazes, in which she seemed to be looking +him through and through, and reading his very soul, +whilst hers was to him as a sealed book.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Eustace,” she said very softly, “would that you +<i>were</i> striving to teach to them the true meaning of the +higher life. Then, indeed, would I most gladly, most +willingly, follow where you lead; but, alas, alas! I fear +me it is not so. Oh, my cousin, can you truly tell me that +you yourself are striving after the higher life—the highest +life—the life of the Kingdom—so that you can teach it +to another?”</p> + +<p>He did not answer—for, indeed, he did not fully understand +her; he only knew that in speaking of the +higher life he and she meant something altogether different, +although he still trusted that the difference was +but superficial, and that deeper down lay an accord which +would some day become patent to both. Meantime, with +her eyes upon him, he knew not what to say; and Bride, +with a look of sorrow and gentle compassion that went +to his heart, rose and glided away, leaving him alone in +the great dining-hall, with the flicker of many wax<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> +candles mingling with the fading light of the March +evening.</p> + +<p>It was half-past six, and the light without, although +fast dying, was not yet gone. Eustace felt it impossible +after what had passed to join either the Duke in his +study or Bride in the drawing-room; and taking his hat +and putting on a thin overcoat, he sallied out from the +castle, and after descending the road by the wide zigzag +drive, he paused a moment at the lodge gate, and then +turned off in the direction of the parsonage, where Mr. +Tremodart lived alone in the solitude of childless widowhood.</p> + +<p>Eustace had been to that house before. He knew its +disorderly and comfortless aspect, the long low rooms +littered about with pipes and books and papers, fishing-tackle +and riding-whips. He knew well the aspect of +the tall gaunt parson, seated at some table with a pipe +between his lips, and his long fingers busy over the +manufacture of artificial flies. For Mr. Tremodart was +a mighty fisherman, and there was excellent trout-fishing +in the many streams that watered the plains above, and +pike-fishing in the land-locked lakes high up in the +moors. The season dear to the heart of anglers was +coming on apace, and Eustace found the master of the +ramshackle abode deep in the mysteries of his craft.</p> + +<p>Eustace had not pulled the cracked and broken bell. +He knew that the deaf old crone who lived at the parsonage, +and did as much or as little of the needful work +there as her goodwill or rheumatism permitted, deeply +resented a needless journey to the door, which always +stood wide open from morning to night, save in the very +bitterest weather. He walked straight in, and after +glancing in at one or two open doors, was at length +guided by a small stream of light beneath the one +farthest down the passage, to that place where the parson +was found at work. Mr. Tremodart had long since ceased<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> +to have a regular room in which either to sit or to eat. He +would use one of the many apartments upon the ground-floor +of his rambling parsonage for both purposes, until +it grew too terribly dirty and untidy to be borne, and +then he would move into another, gradually making the +whole round. At the end of some three or four months +he would turn in a couple of stout young women, with +pails and brooms and dusters, and have the whole house +swept and garnished, whilst he spent the day on the +moors with rod and gun; and then the rotatory fashion +of living would begin over again, the old woman confining +her labours to her kitchen, preparing the needful +meals in such fashion as she chose, and making her +master’s bed and setting his sleeping chamber to rights +in the morning. Mr. Tremodart appeared quite content +with his <i>ménage</i> as it existed; and if he were satisfied, +there was no need for any one to waste pity on him.</p> + +<p>He welcomed Eustace with a smile, his plain broad +face lighting up genially, in a fashion that redeemed it +from ugliness, despite the blunt features and tanned +skin. He did not rise, or even hold out his hand, having +both well occupied in some delicate operation of tying; +but he indicated with a nod a chair for his guest, and +asked if he would smoke.</p> + +<p>Eustace had acquired in Germany a habit which was +still in his own country designated as “filthy” by a +large section of the upper classes; and though he never +smoked at the castle, was not averse to indulging himself +in the recesses of the parsonage. He took a pipe +from his pocket and filled it leisurely, coming out at last +with the matter next his heart.</p> + +<p>“What is this I hear about young Tresithny? He +seems to have been setting the place by the ears in my +absence.”</p> + +<p>The parson gave him one keen quick glance out of his +deep-set eyes, and remarked in the soft drawling tone<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> +that had a strong touch of the prevailing vernacular +about it—</p> + +<p>“I think yu should know more about it than I du, sir. +I take it he is your disciple. It is yu who are going +about teaching our country-folk that they are being +ground down and oppressed, is it not? Well, may be +it will please yu tu know that young Tresithny is following +in your steps and making all St. Bride writhe +under a sense of a deep and terrible oppression she never +found out for herself before.”</p> + +<p>Eustace flushed very slightly. He was keen to note +a touch of irony when directed against the cause he had +at heart. He looked to meet it in many quarters, but he +had hardly expected to find it here, nor was he absolutely +certain of the drift of Mr. Tremodart’s remark.</p> + +<p>“What has he been doing?” he asked briefly.</p> + +<p>“Why, I think yu would call it turning stump-orator,” +was the reply, as Mr. Tremodart bent over his work again. +“He hasn’t any time by the week to help enlighten the +ignorance of his fellow-men, but he was good enough to +invite them to a preaching or a speaking on the shore +on Sunday morning in church hours, so we had an empty +church save for the Duke and Lady Bride, and some of +the castle servants.” The parson raised his head and gently +scratched his nose with his forefinger as he concluded +reflectively, “If yu come tu think of it, ’tis a curious +thing how much more attractive it is to mankind to +know how they may rob their neighbours than how they +may save their souls.”</p> + +<p>Eustace could not for the life of him refrain from the +retort which sprang to his lips—</p> + +<p>“And you hold that they do learn that important +lesson by coming to the weekly service at St. Bride’s +church?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Tremodart continued gently to rub his nose with +his forefinger. His rugged face expressed no annoyance,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> +rather some compunction and humility, and yet he +answered with the quiet composure which in most cases +appeared natural to him.</p> + +<p>“I know what yu are thinking, young man. I can +tell yu that without either feeling or meaning offence. +Yu are thinking that my poor discourses in yon pulpit +are but sorry food for the souls of men—and I am with +yu there. Yu are thinking that if I shut up the church +on a Sunday from time to time on some paltry excuse, I +cannot greatly value its services for the poor. Yu could +say some very harsh things of me, and I in shame and +sorrow would be forced to say ‘Amen’ to them. I am a +sorry minister, and I know it; but for all that, I would +have yu distinguish between the unworthy servant and +the Master he serves. My incapacity, idleness, and mistakes +must not be set down to Him. A most unworthy +and disobedient servant may yet serve in some sort the +best of masters.”</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” said Eustace frankly; “I should not +have spoken as I did; although I confess I was thinking +of the service suspended on account of the sitting hen.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I made an error there,” answered Mr. Tremodart, +pushing his hands through his hair; “but she was the +best hen in my yard. I had set my heart on having a +brood of her chickens to bring up, and she was so wild +and shy that I feared we’d never find her, and that the +foxes would get at the eggs of the chicks before ever +we could make sure of them. I had a bad cold too, and +was in bed when the old sexton came hurrying in to tell +me of the find. I knew once we rudely and hastily disturbed +her she would never sit again, and I had no other +broody hen to take her place; so I just said we’d have no +service that day, thinking David would go and say it was +my cold that kept me to home. But instead, he told the +story of the hen, and shamed me before my flock. And +yet I cannot complain—it was my own sinfulness. But<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> +mark my word, my young friend: however sinful the +minister may be, the church is the house of God, and +a blessing rests on those who come thither to worship +Him, talk as you hot-headed young reformers may of +your newer and more rational religions which are to take +the place of that ordained by God.”</p> + +<p>With Mr. St. Aubyn Eustace would have argued, but +this man had not the learning to enable him to support +his beliefs, and Eustace declined controversy by saying, +with a smile—</p> + +<p>“I am, at least, quite ready to admit that if we have +souls in your sense of the word, they may easily be saved +through regular attendance at St. Bride’s or any other +church.”</p> + +<p>The Cornishman threw back his head with a gesture +that was at once emphatic and picturesque.</p> + +<p>“Young man, do not mock,” he said in his deep-toned, +resonant voice. “The soul of man is a mystery which +your philosophy will never fathom; and mark me again—when +I speak of saving souls and attendance at church +in one breath, I mean something far different than what +yu imply in your light phrase. What I should say is this—let +the preacher be never so ignorant and unworthy, +in our churches we have forms of prayer which embrace +the whole circle of Christian doctrine. On our knees we +confess our sins to God; on our knees we hold up before +Him the one Atonement of the Cross as our only hope of +salvation, and pray for the guidance of the Holy Spirit +to rule and direct our hearts. We read the word of God +in our midst. We offer psalms, and hymns, and spiritual +songs. And I say again that Christ has taught us that +penitent confession, coupled with faith in Him, is sufficient +for salvation—that every erring sinner coming to +Him is never cast out, and that He has given His Spirit +to be our guide and comforter through life. Wherefore +I say and maintain that all those who truly follow the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> +services offered in our churches week by week may find +in them salvation, whether he who offers them be as weak +and unworthy as the man before you now.”</p> + +<p>Eustace rose and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>“Believe me, sir, I had no such stricture in my mind +when I spoke. I respect solid conviction and true faith +wherever I meet it, even when I hold that the faith is +misplaced, and that the day is coming when a sounder +and truer form of worship will be seen in this earth. At +least we are in accord in wishing the best for the people +we both love; only at present we disagree as to what is +the best. In days to come I trust and believe that we +shall be in accord even here. Meantime I will see this +hot-headed young Tresithny, and warn him not to hold +his addresses at times when men should be in church. +The young and ardent have more zeal than discretion, +but if I can help it you shall not be annoyed again.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, I am not annoyed,” said the parson, with a broad +smile; “his Grace was more annoyed than I. But yu +will have a tougher job in holding back yon mettlesome +lad, I take it, than in starting him off along +the road. But there is good in the Tresithnys, though +there is a tough grain in them which makes it no light +task to try and carve them into shape. Must yu go? +Then fare yu well, and give you a good issue to your +mission.”</p> + +<p>Eustace strode away, and without any pause set off in +the direction of Farmer Teazel’s farm in the next parish. +He walked rapidly, as a man does when burning words +are welling up in his heart, and he seeks to prepare himself +for an interview in which strong arguments may be +needed. But when he returned along the same road, it +was with slower step and bent head. He had found his +disciple, and had spoken long and earnestly with him, +but had come away with the conviction that he had spoken +in vain. He had kindled a spark in Saul’s passionate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> +heart which had lighted a long-smouldering flame. Now +this had burst into active conflagration, and what the +result would be no man could yet say. At present a +violent class hatred was raging within him, and he was +bent upon setting class against class in the spirit of the +true demagogue. The wiser and more moderate teachings +of Eustace fell upon deaf ears. The young man +began to see that Saul was growing far less keenly interested +in the wrongs of his fellow-men, which it was right +and needful to alleviate and remove, than in the opportunity +afforded by a general movement after reform for +a rising against the privileged classes, for whom he had +long cherished an undying hatred. The very intelligence +and quickness of the young man made him the +more dangerous. He could turn upon Eustace with some +argument of his own, used perhaps for another purpose, +and by no means intended to be universally applied, and +deduce from it conclusions only too mercilessly logical, +tending to the subversion of the empire and the awakening +of a spirit of lawless violence, which of all things +Eustace desired to prevent. He had hoped, when first he +took to giving instruction and counsel to so apt and attentive +a pupil, that he should retain over Saul the influence +he gained in the first place; and even now he recognised +that the young man was deeply attached to him, and +believed that so long as his eye was upon him he would +keep within bounds. But the limits of Eustace’s visit +to Penarvon were drawing near, and he did not think, in +face of what was occurring, that the Duke would press +him to remain. He would leave, and then what would +happen to that wild spirit? Already the farmer had +threatened him with dismissal if he persisted in his +obstinate courses, and tried to instil and introduce lawless +opinions amongst his servants. Saul had not been +daunted by that threat. It appeared that already he +had made friends amongst kindred spirits in the town,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> +and would find support and employment there if he +chose to break away from his old associates.</p> + +<p>Eustace walked back to the castle in a state of mind +that was by no means happy or satisfied. He had made +a great step in Penarvon since his arrival; but was it +altogether such a step as was wise or right?</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b110.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b111.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br /> + +<i>BRIDE’S PERPLEXITIES</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b111b.jpg" alt="B" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">BUT if Eustace suffered from doubts and fears, +even when embarked upon a cause which he +fully believed to be that of right and justice, +other people were not exempt from their share +of perplexity and mental distress, and certainly the youthful +Lady Bride was no exception to this rule. For her, +things seemed to have come hardly. Just as she was +deprived of the loving counsels and tender training of a +mother whom she literally adored, was she confronted by +problems and questions which had never entered into her +inner life before, and which threatened at times to upheave +many of her most cherished notions, or to land her +in a perfect sea of doubt and bewilderment.</p> + +<p>True, she had not grown up in actual ignorance of the +questions beginning to agitate the world, but hitherto she +had regarded them, as it were, from an infinite distance: +they had not penetrated to her own sphere. She could +regard them in perspective, and moralise upon them in +an abstract fashion totally distinct from that which confronted +her, now that they had in a sense intruded into +her very home, and risen up in altogether unexpected +proportion before her eyes. Calm as she appeared to the +eyes of those about her, remote and aloof as Eustace felt +her to be, dwelling in a world of her own, and hardly +awake to the throbbing life of that other world of which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> +he was a member, she was in reality far more aware of +its pulsating life than he ever dreamed, and far more +perplexed by the problems of the times than he as yet +suspected. Pity and love for the humble and poor had +been instilled into Bride’s heart by her mother from +her earliest years, and it was a lesson not likely to be +ignored now that she was left so lonely and desolate in +her palatial home. Towards her father she felt a deep +and reverential affection and compassion, and they had +drawn a very little nearer together during this time of +common sorrow; but the habits of a lifetime are seldom +broken through, even when there is willingness to break +them, and the Duke found himself unable to open his +heart to his young daughter, as he had learned to do to his +gentle wife, even when he was conscious that if the effort +could be made it would be abundantly rewarded. He was +gentle towards her, and more tender than he had ever +been in his life before, but there was no impulse of confidence +between them. It was just as hard for Bride to +try to speak to him out of her heart (as she had been +wont to do to her mother) as for him to cast off his reserve +before her; so that when perplexities arose within +her, the girl had to fight them out alone, and increasingly +hard did she find the battle as day by day fresh thoughts +and problems presented themselves before her mental +vision.</p> + +<p>Mr. St. Aubyn might have helped her, but she was +timid of seeking him out. She felt towards him a deep +and reverential affection. She had always hung upon his +words when he visited her mother, and the two talked +together long and earnestly of the coming crisis in the +world’s history of which both were keenly conscious, and +for which both were preparing themselves in different +measure. But the girl had never opened her own heart +to the clergyman, or indeed to any person except her +mother, and she did not know how to make the first<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> +advance now, although feeling often in sore need of +guidance and help.</p> + +<p>But there was still one person to whom she sometimes +spoke when the sense of the burden became greater than +she could bear, and that was to the old gardener, Abner +Tresithny. She had a great respect, and indeed affection, +for the faithful old servant, who from childhood had always +been ranked as one of her friends, so that the habit of +reserve had not extended to her intercourse with him. +Bride had her own outdoor pursuits in the garden, which +Abner superintended with his advice and assistance, and +as the pair worked together in greenhouse or potting-shed, +they often talked of many other matters than +the plants they tended. Bride had gained much of her +insight into human nature and the state of the village +from Abner; and now when Saul’s fervid discourses had +stirred up so much excitement there, it was natural that +the matter should be mentioned, and that other things of +a kindred nature should be discussed.</p> + +<p>Abner had been pained and grieved by his grandson’s +(apparently sudden) development, and Bride saw that the +subject was a sore one with him. With her ready tact +she avoided the point which most pained the old man, +and opened her heart to him on the subject which had +been with her night and day for many a long week now, +and which will raise itself before each one of us with a +ceaseless iteration so long as this state of sin and misery +lasts in the world.</p> + +<p>“O Abner, can we wonder?—can we blame them so +very much if they do rise in rebellion and revolt? Why +is it—ah! why is it that some—not just a few here and +there, but hundreds and thousands—even millions of +human beings are born into the world to a life of hopeless +misery, degradation, and poverty, from which not +one man in a thousand has power to raise himself? My +cousin has been telling me things—I have heard him and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> +my father talking—and it goes to my very heart to +think what it all means. I know—oh! I can never +doubt it—that in every human soul there is the +power to live the higher life by the grace of the Spirit +of God; but oh! Abner, how is it, humanly speaking, +possible that this germ of heavenly fire should be developed +in such surroundings? How can those encompassed +by every physical misery and degradation ever lift +their hearts and their hopes heavenward? How can it +be looked for? And why does God permit such awful +inequalities in the destinies of His children? If He loves +us all—as we know He does—why, oh! why are these +things allowed?”</p> + +<p>The pain in her face and in her voice plainly showed +how deeply she had taken to heart what she had gleaned +of late respecting the condition of a large section of the +population at that time. Abner looked at his young +mistress with a world of sympathy in his steady, deep-set +eyes, and slowly shook his head.</p> + +<p>“There be many of us ask that same question, my +Ladybird, as we go on in life, and none of us can rightly +answer it. And yet may be the answer is under our hand +all the while. It is the sin of man that brought the +curse into the world; and ever since the hardness of +man’s heart has been making him choose the evil and +the curse instead of the way of the Lord and the blessing, +and every generation sinks the world deeper and +deeper into the slough.”</p> + +<p>“I know, I know that. Sin is at the root of all,” +answered Bride, with quick eagerness, “but that does not +seem to answer everything. It is the awful inequalities +of the world that frighten me, and the sense of the +terrible gulf that seems to divide such lives as mine from +those of the miserable women and children born in the +midst of a squalor and misery of which my cousin tells +me I can have no conception. We are all born in sin,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> +but we are not all born to utter want and wretchedness. +God loves all His children alike: why should such things +be? Oh, why should they be?”</p> + +<p>She clasped her hands together in a passion of perplexity +and pain. The eyes which were so deep and inscrutable +to Eustace were full of a pleading intensity of gaze, as +though she would wring an answer to her appeal from the +heavens themselves. Abner looked at her with a softening +of the lines of his rugged face; and as he steadily +pursued his task of cleansing from blight a great camellia +tree that stood in the centre of the conservatory, he made +an answer that was eminently characteristic of him, and +which roused the instant interest of the girl.</p> + +<p>“My Ladybird, I think we can none of us rightly +answer such a question, because the ways of the Almighty +are past finding out, and we can by no stretch of our poor +finite minds hope to understand the eternal wisdom of the +Infinite. And yet, inasmuch as we have God’s own word +that we are made in His image, we can just get here and +there a glimpse into the workings of His mind; and I +often think that a gardener at his toil gets a clearer bit of +insight into His dealings than some others can do.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, tell me how,” cried Bride, who dearly loved to listen +to Abner’s deductions from the world of nature to the +realm of human experience. She had been used to listening +to his allegories from childhood, and always found in +them food for thought and farther research.</p> + +<p>Quietly pursuing his task, as was his way when thinking +most deeply, Abner took up his parable again.</p> + +<p>“It sometimes comes to me like this, my lady, when I +am amongst my flowers and plants and seeds, and folks +come to me and say, ‘Abner, why do you do this?’ and +‘Abner, why do you do that?’ Look at the little seeds +as they lie on your hand—seeming so like to one another +that even the best of us would be puzzled to know some +kinds apart; but when they grow up, how different they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> +appear, and how different they have to be treated! Some +are hardy things, and are put out to face the biting winds +and cruel snows of winter, and nothing given them for +protection, whilst others are tenderly protected from the +least hardship, and grow up in the soft warm air of the hot-house, +watered and tended and watched over like petted +children. Is it because the gardener loves one sort of +seed more than another that he treats them so differently? +What sort of a garden would he have when the summer +came had he put the tender hot-house seeds out in the +cold ground, and tried to grow the hardy seedlings in a +hot-house? And then again, see how the different plants +are treated as they grow up under the same gardener’s eye. +Look at these great specimen heliotropes and fuchsias +and petunias. How were they treated when they were +young?—pinched in, trained, clipped, kept back, as it +seemed, in every possible way, everything against them, +everything, as one would say, taken from them, till the +right stature and height and growth had been attained, +and then encouraged to bud and break where it had been +decided they should; and now see the beautiful graceful +trees—a joy to the eye and to the heart—covered with +blossom, rejoicing as it seems in their beauty, the pride +of the gardener who seemed at first so cruel to them, so +resolved to keep them barren and unlovely.”</p> + +<p>Bride drew a long breath and clasped her hands together. +She had asked sometimes deep down in her heart why +her own life had been left so desolate by the death of +her mother. Was she in some sort finding an answer +now? Was it perhaps for her ultimate good and for the +glory of God that she was thus heavily chastened in her +youth?</p> + +<p>Abner had made a slight pause, but now he continued, +speaking in the same slow way, with the same rather remarkable +choice of words for a man of his class.</p> + +<p>“And again, look at another class of plants—look at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> +our bulbs. Does not the gardener find a quiet nook for +them in the garden where they will never be disturbed, +and put them in, and let them come up year after year +undisturbed and unmolested? Is it because he loves +them more that he leaves them to bloom at their own +time and in their own fashion, and does not even cut +down their leaves when the blooming season is over? +Why is he so cruel (as the ignorant folk might put it) to +some of his plants, and so tender to others? Why does +he treat them so differently? Why do some grow up +and flourish for a season only, and are rooted up and cast +away at its close, whilst others remain year by year in the +ground, or are tended in warmth and luxury in the glass +homes provided for them? Why such inequalities when +originally all start alike from a tiny seed germ, one of +which scarce differs from another? Is it because the +gardener is partial or cruel? or because he knows as no +untrained person can, what is best for each, and how in +the end, after patient waiting and watching, the most +perfect garden will arise up under his hand? And if +this is so in our little world, can we not understand that +it must be something the same in the great garden of God—that +kingdom of Christ for which we are waiting and +watching, and for which He is working in His own all-powerful +and mysterious way? Ah! how often I think of +that as I go about my daily toil—that reign of the Lord’s +upon earth, when the wilderness shall blossom as the rose, +where sorrow and pain and sin shall be done away, and +we shall see the meaning of all those things which perplex +and bewilder us now, and understand the love in the +Father’s heart, although the discipline seemed hard to +understand at the first.”</p> + +<p>Bride raised her eyes with the light shining in them +which the thought of the coming kingdom of the Lord +always brought there.</p> + +<p>“Ah! yes,” she said softly, “we shall know then—we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> +shall understand then—we shall see face to face. +O Abner, would that that day might come quickly! +Ah! why does not God hear the cry of His people in +their trouble and perplexities, and send forth the Great +Deliverer? Are we not praying for His appearing +hour by hour and day by day? Why does He tarry +so long?”</p> + +<p>Abner slowly shook his head. He understood perfectly +those utterances of the girl, which from time to time +filled Eustace with absolute bewilderment. One result of +the awakening of spiritual perception, and of the unceasing +prayer which had been offered up by all sorts and +conditions of men for many years, had been a deep and +earnest conviction that the Second Advent was at hand, +that the French Revolution was but the commencement +of the Great Apostasy of the latter days, and that the +times of the end were approaching. Amongst all the +confusion of prophetic interpretation stirring the minds +of men and raising up countless differences of opinion and +beliefs as to what was coming upon the earth, there stood +out one paramount conviction which attracted multitudes +to adhere to it, which was that before the final judgments +were to be poured upon the earth, as foretold in the +Revelation according to St. John, there would be a gathering +together of the first-fruits to Christ—the dead and +living saints called alike to meet Him in the air, and thus +escape the horrors that were coming upon the world—the +company typified in Scripture as the hundred and +forty-four thousand sealed ones standing with the Lamb +upon Mount Zion before the last vials of wrath are poured +out, and before the resurrection of the multitude whom +no man can number, who have come scathlessly through +the great tribulation of the days of Antichrist.</p> + +<p>This had been the unshaken conviction of the Duchess, +and Bride had received it from her mother with an +absolute trust. Abner, like many men of his class and race,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> +was equally filled with a devout hope and expectation of +living to see the Lord appear without sin unto salvation. +The wave of revived spirituality and personal faith which +had swept over the West-Country with the advance of +Methodism a generation before, had, as it were, prepared +the minds of men for a fresh development of faith in the +fulfilment of God’s prophetic word. Methodism itself had +already begun to fossilise to a certain extent into a system, +and had been rent by faction and split into hostile camps; +but this new wave of awakened spirituality was sweeping +over the land with all its first strength, and destined in +one form or another to do a great work in the Church. +The thought and the hope of the Kingdom was one so +familiar and so congenial to those who had accepted it, +that already they were striving after the life of the Kingdom +in the present world of sorrow and sin. To Bride it +was the very source and centre of all her happiness in life, +and anything that turned her thoughts back to it again +brought solace and comfort with it; so that even the +hope that the darkness and perplexity around her would +be explained and made clear in the Kingdom, and that +what she now saw with pain and shrinking would at last +prove to be God’s way of bringing good out of the mass +of evil engendered by the sin and disobedience of man, +brought a measure of comfort with it, and Bride walked +through the sunny gardens in a deep reverie, looking +around her at the awakening of nature with a strange but +intensely real hope that it was but the type and foretaste +of another and more wondrous resurrection, in which +she might be counted worthy to have a share, perhaps +even before this same young year had run its appointed +course.</p> + +<p>Her meditations were interrupted by the sudden appearance +at her side of her cousin Eustace. How he came she +knew not. She had not observed his approach, but here +he was walking beside her; and as she raised her eyes for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> +a moment to his face, she was aware that it wore an expression +of strange concentration, whilst at the same time +in his voice there was a tone which she did not remember +ever to have heard there before.</p> + +<p>“Bride,” he said, speaking more abruptly than usual, +“you know that I am going away soon?”</p> + +<p>“I had heard something of it. I did not know the +day was fixed. I think you must feel glad. There is so +little to do at Penarvon—for one like you.”</p> + +<p>“I fear your father thinks I have done too much, as it +is,” answered Eustace hastily. “Bride, have I made him +hate me? Has he spoken with disapproval of me to +you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no!” answered Bride. “My father seldom speaks +disparagingly of any one who is not there to defend +himself. He would say nothing to me that he did not +say to you; and if he did. I could not repeat it, of +course.”</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Eustace quickly; “I was wrong in +asking; but I was nervously afraid, I think, lest he should +have said something to do hurt to my cause. Bride, are +you sorry I am going away? Will you miss me when I +am gone?”</p> + +<p>He spoke with covert eagerness, almost with excitement, +and Bride was puzzled at the note of emotion in his +voice, and paused to consider her answer. She was always +transparently truthful and sincere, and although brought +up to show courtesy to all with whom she came in contact, +she had never taught herself to utter the platitudes +and shallow untruths of society, and chose her words with +care when appealed to in such a fashion.</p> + +<p>“I think I shall miss you,” she answered, looking reflectively +before her. “It will seem strange not to see +your face at table, or to have some one to talk to in the +evenings. I think father will miss you too. He likes to +converse with one who knows the world and can understand<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> +him. Perhaps you will come again some day, +Eustace?”</p> + +<p>“Do you ask it, Bride?” he questioned, his voice +quivering.</p> + +<p>“I have no power to invite guests to Penarvon,” she +answered gently. “My father has never given me leave +to do so; but I think he will be glad to think you will +come again: he has so few belonging in any way to +him now.”</p> + +<p>“Would you be glad, Bride?” he asked, in the same +tense and almost impassioned way; “that is what I wish +to know. Would you be glad to think that I should come +again soon?”</p> + +<p>Something in his tone aroused in Bride a vague sense +of shrinking and distaste. She could not understand +exactly what produced this feeling; but at that moment +her impulse was to leave her cousin hastily and fly to the +shelter of her own room. That being impossible, she +could only retire into the shell of her own impenetrable +reserve, and Eustace was at once aware that some of the +light had gone out of her eyes, and that she very slightly +drew away from him.</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” she said very quietly; “that depends +upon so many things. You have been very kind, Eustace, +and yet you have done things which have brought great +trouble to us. If you could learn to be a comfort to my +father, I would welcome you gladly again; but you can +hardly expect it when you trouble and distress him.”</p> + +<p>“Bride, Bride, do not speak so! do not drive me to +despair!” cried Eustace suddenly, losing his long-preserved +self-control. “Do you not know that I love you, that I +have loved you almost ever since I saw you first three +months ago? Oh, my love, my life, only love me in return, +and do what you will with me! I am yours, body and +soul, and together we will walk through life, and yours +shall be the guiding and directing will, for you are the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> +guiding star of my life! Bride, Bride! hear me! Be +my wife, and I will be in the future what you will. You +shall rule my life for me. Only let me know that your +love is mine, and I care for nothing else!”</p> + +<p>She understood then, and the surprise of it all held her +mute and spellbound. Perhaps no maiden in the length +and breadth of the land had grown up more oblivious +of the thought of love and marriage than Lady Bride +Marchmont. No young companions had she ever known to +suggest such ideas. Her mother had preserved the guarded +silence on the subject that mothers are wont to do whilst +their daughters are yet young, and her father had followed +his wife’s example. She had seen the best and happiest +side of married life in the tender love and dependence of +her parents; but as a thing applied to herself she had +never given it a thought, and now she recoiled from this +passionate appeal with a sense of shrinking and distaste +which she found it difficult to refrain from expressing in +words that would inflict pain on the man before her. She +did not wish to pain him. She was woman enough to +know that he meant to do her honour by this proffer of +love and service; but he had utterly failed to awaken any +answering chord in her heart, and she felt that he ought +not to have spoken as he had done, or to use such arguments +to her.</p> + +<p>“No, Eustace,” she said, not ungently, as he tried to +take her hand. “You must not speak to me so. It is +not right. It is not even manly. I think you can know +very little of me when you speak of offering yourself to +me body and soul, or tell me that you care for nothing +else if you can have my love. Do you think I can love +any one, save with the love of a deep pity, who can place +a mere earthly love before everything else, and talk as +though his soul were his own to give into the keeping +of another? Do you think I like to hear you say that +you would even abandon a cause which seemed to you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> +holy and just and right, simply because you think I +may not approve it? Do you wish to make of me your +conscience-keeper? O Eustace! think what such words +mean!—think what treachery they imply, not only to God +but to man, and I am sure you yourself will be ashamed +of them.”</p> + +<p>“I can think of nothing but that I love you, Bride,” +broke in Eustace, hotly and passionately, his heart moved +by the wonderful beauty of the woman before him; her +utter unconsciousness of the wild passions of love and +tenderness stirring within him only rousing him to a +sense of wilder resolve to win her at all cost. “I love +you! I love you! I love you! All my religion, all my +faith, all my happiness here or hereafter are comprised +within the limits of those three little words. I love you! +Surely you will not tell me in return that you hate me, +and would spurn me from your presence. O Bride, my +life, my love! do not say that you have no love to give +me in return.”</p> + +<p>There was something so appealing in his voice that +her heart was touched with compassion, though with +no answering response. She let him possess himself +of her hand, but it lay cool and passive in his hot +clasp.</p> + +<p>“I do not hate you, Eustace—why should I? I do not +hate any living thing. I do not spurn you. I do not +spurn your love.”</p> + +<p>“My darling, ten thousand thanks for that sweet +word. If my love is not spurned, surely it will some +day be returned! Bride, you will at least let me hope +that?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot help what you hope,” she answered, with +childlike frankness. “But, Eustace, I do not think I can +ever love you as you wish, and I can never, never, never +be your wife unless I do. I like you as a cousin; but +indeed that is all. I do not understand what it is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> +that makes you wish to marry me. We should be very +unhappy together—I am quite sure of that.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! no, Bride! Do not speak so. Unhappy, and +with you!”</p> + +<p>“I should be very unhappy,” answered the girl steadily, +“and you <i>ought</i> to be, Eustace, if you really knew what +love meant.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her in amaze; that <i>she</i> should be speaking +to <i>him</i> of the nature of love with that look of divine +compassion in her eyes was a thing altogether too +strange and perplexing. Her very attitude and quiet +composure told of a heart unruffled as yet by any touch +of human passion, and yet she was turning upon him +and rebuking him for his ignorance. It was she who +broke the momentary pause, seeming almost to read his +thoughts.</p> + +<p>“You wonder how I know perhaps, but, ah! if you +had seen my father and mother together you would +have understood. If you had known what love there +was between my mother and me, you would understand. +Do not I know what love is? Ah! do I not? It is +the power to lay bare the innermost sanctuary of your +soul, and to know that you will be understood, helped, +strengthened, comforted. It is the knowledge that +thoughts too deep, and hopes too wonderful and mysterious +for words are shared together, and can be whispered +of together without being tarnished by the poor +attempt to reduce them to speech; the consciousness +that in everything we are in accord, that we are often +thinking the same things at the same moment; the +knowledge that the deeper and deeper we go the more +and more sympathy and sweet accord there is between +us; that not only are we one in opinion about temporal +and changing things, but knit close, close together in +soul and spirit as well, sharing the same faith, the same +hope, the same love! Ah! Eustace! if you had known<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> +such a love as that, you could never think that there +would be happiness for you and me in linking our lives +together!”</p> + +<p>He stood silent, almost abashed, before her, marvelling +alike at her eloquence and at the insight displayed of a +union of spirit, of which Eustace was forced to admit that +he had not thought. To win Bride as his wife, to set +her up as his object of adoring love, had seemed all-sufficient +to him hitherto. Now it suddenly dawned upon +him that with such a woman as this, that would be but +the travesty and mockery of happiness. She was right +and he was wrong: without a deeper sympathy and love +than any which had come into his philosophy as yet, +marriage would be a doleful blunder. He would be no +nearer to her than before—perhaps farther away. He +must learn to share with her that inner and mystic life +of which he saw glimpses from time to time when she +opened out for a moment and showed him what lay below +the calm surface of her nature. Either he must share +that with her, or wean her away from it; replacing mysticism +with philanthropy, fanaticism with practical benevolence, +objective with subjective religion. One of those +two ends must be accomplished before he could hope to +win the desire of his heart. As he stood in the bright +spring sunshine facing her, he became suddenly aware of +that, and a new light leaped into his eyes—the light of +battle and of resolve. He would win her yet, but it must +be by slower steps than any he had contemplated hitherto. +She was worthy of better things than becoming a mere +dreamer and nunlike recluse. It should be his to lead +her steps to surer ground, to show her that there was a +higher Christianity than any of which she had hitherto +dreamed. Not now—not all at once, but he would come +again and begin upon a surer foundation. He looked into +her eyes, and gently taking her hand before she had time +to draw it away, he said quietly—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>“Do not be afraid, Bride; I see that you judged more +wisely than I. You are right and I am wrong, and I +will go away and trouble you no more in the present; but +the time will come when I shall return, and I trust that +by slow and sure degrees we shall draw so closely together +that you will no longer shrink from me in fear and +trembling. You are very young, sweet cousin, and there +are many things you have yet to learn. It is a beautiful +thing, I doubt not, to hold commune in the spirit with +the higher world; but we are set in our place here below +for something I hold to be more truly noble than that. +We are set in a world of sin and misery that we may +gird our armour upon us and fight the battle with this sin +and misery—fight it for our poor and afflicted brethren, +as they cannot fight it for themselves. That is the true +Christianity; that is the highest form of religious devotion. +You can read it for yourself in your Bible—‘True +religion and undefiled before God and the Father +is this, to visit the widows and orphans in their affliction’—to +be ministers, in fact, of mercy and blessing +in any sphere, of which one is given as the type.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Bride very softly, “and to keep himself +unspotted from the world.”</p> + +<p>She looked straight at Eustace as she spoke, and he +looked back at her, marvelling at the extraordinary +depth and beauty of those dark eyes. He longed, as +he had never longed before, to take her in his arms +and hold her to his heart; but he knew that he must +not, so with a great effort he restrained himself, and +kept back the words of passionate love which rose to +his lips.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he answered steadily; “and for your sweet +sake, Bride, I will strive to do even that—evil and full +of temptation as my world is.”</p> + +<p>“Not for my sake, Eustace, not for my sake,” she +replied, with an earnestness he scarcely understood; “that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> +would be indeed a vain resolve. If you cannot yet +strive in the power and might of the Risen and Ascended +Lord, whom you deny, strive at least in the power of +the right you own and believe in, though you know +not from whence it comes.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her in some amaze.</p> + +<p>“Why do you say I deny your Risen Saviour, Bride?”</p> + +<p>“Because I heard you with your own lips do so, in +effect if not in actual words. You spoke of His miracles +as being ordinary gifts of healing exaggerated by the +devotion of His followers; of the Transfiguration being +a like delusion—men awakened from sleep seeing their +Master standing in the glory of the sunrise, and mistaking +the morning mists for other luminous figures +beside Him. You said that the Resurrection had been +accounted for by the theory that the Saviour did not +die, but was taken from the Cross in a state of trance, +from which He recovered in the tomb.”</p> + +<p>A flush mounted quickly into Eustace’s face.</p> + +<p>“You mistake me, Bride,” he answered hastily. “We +were discussing—Mr. St. Aubyn and I—some of the +teachings of various philosophers and thinkers, and I +was explaining to him how Paulus had extended to +the New Testement the method which Eichhorn had +applied to the Old. I was not defending the theory, but +merely stating it as a matter of speculation amongst +men of a certain school.”</p> + +<p>Bride looked at him intently.</p> + +<p>“If that is so, I am thankful and glad; but I heard +too much not to know very well where your sympathies +and convictions lie. If you do not follow the +impious teachings of this Paulus, you are very far along +the road which does not lead to the Father’s house. +No, Eustace; let us talk no more of this—it is only +painful to both. I shall never convince you; but I shall +pray for you. And now farewell. I trust when next<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> +we meet it will be without this sense of unutterable +distance between us; but it must be you to change—for +I never shall.”</p> + +<p>She turned and left him standing there in the sunshine. +That same day Eustace took leave of Penarvon, +and commenced his backward journey to London.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b128.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b129.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br /> + +<i>THE WAVE OF REVOLT</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b129f.jpg" alt="F" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap2">“FEGS! if theer’s tu be a bobbery up tu Pentreath, +us lads o’ St. Bride’s wunt be left owt on’t!”</p> + +<p>“Dashed if us wull! Wheer theer’s fightin’ +and a fillyboo, theer’s more’n hard knocks to be +gotten. Us’ll soon see what us can get by un!”</p> + +<p>“Aw dally-buttons, that us wull! They du say as our +Saul’s theer in t’ thick of un. But what’s it awl about? +Dost any o’ yu knaw?”</p> + +<p>The swarthy fishermen looked each other in the face +with a grin, but nobody seemed ready with an answer.</p> + +<p>“May’ap ’tis because the king’s dead,” suggested one.</p> + +<p>“Naw, ’tidden that ezakally,” objected another. “’Tis +becos they Frenchers ’ave abin an’ gone for tu ’ave a new +bobbery ower theer—what the great folks calls a reverlooshon. +They’ve a druv theer king over tu England: +that’s what ’as set all the lads ower heer in a takin’ after +theer roights.”</p> + +<p>“’Tidden theer roights theer a’ter,” remarked a woman +who was sitting hunched up in the chimney-corner of +the hut where this confabulation was going on, “’tis +other folks’ goods they want. They thinks wheerever +a bobbery be theer’ll be gutterin’ and guzzlin’, and that’s +all they care for. You’d a best ’ave nowt tu du +with un.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>But this piece of advice was received with ridicule and +disfavour.</p> + +<p>“Ef theer be zo much as gutterin’ and guzzlin’ why +shetten us be left behind? ’Tidden much of either us +gets nowadays with those dashed customs-men always +a’ter we. Crimminy! but us’ll take our share ef zo be as +theer’s awght to be gotten. I’ve heerd tell theer be +a real hollerballoo up tu Pentreath. I be agwaine to +see un.”</p> + +<p>“Zo be I! Zo be I!” echoed in turn a dozen or +more voices, and from the dim chimney-corner there only +came a rough snort of disapproval.</p> + +<p>“Go ’long wi’ ye then. When the dowl’s abroad +’twidden be in yer to bide tu home. Go ’long and help +make the bobbery wusser. ’Tidden hurt I. But it’ll be +a poor-come-along-on’t for some o’ yu, I take it. Theer’ll +be trouble at St. Bride along on’t.”</p> + +<p>The men hesitated for a moment, for the old woman +who thus spoke had won the not too enviable reputation +of being next door to a witch, and of reading or moulding +future events—which, it was not altogether certain in the +minds of the people. She was a lonely widow woman, +but lived in one of the best cottages in the place, where +she kept a sort of private bar, selling spirits and tobacco +to the fishermen, and allowing them to make use of her +sanded kitchen, where at all seasons of the year a fire was +burning, as a place of resort where all the gossip of the +place could be discussed. They never put two and two +together in seeking to account for the occult knowledge +possessed by the old woman respecting the private concerns +of the whole community. She affected to be rather +deaf, and therefore low-toned conversations were carried +on freely in her presence. Old Mother Clat was quite +a character in her way, and a distinct power in the +fishing community of St. Bride.</p> + +<p>But her advice was not sufficient to deter the bolder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> +spirits from taking part in the exciting scenes known to +be passing in the country round them. At that moment +England was passing through a crisis more perilous than +was fully realised at the time. The sudden revolution +in France, which had culminated in the abdication and +flight of the king, the death of the English king, George +the Fourth, at almost the same moment, and the whispers +in the air that Belgium and other countries were about to +imitate France, and rise in revolt against the oppression +and tyranny of princes, acted in an extraordinary fashion +upon the minds of the discontented population of this +land. The long period of depression and distress, +whilst it had ground down one section of the community +to a state of passive despair, had aroused in others the +spirit of insubordination and revolt. Like leaven in +the loaf was this fermentation going on, greatly helped +by the knowledge that the cause of the people was +exercising the minds of many of the great ones of +the land, and that in them they would find a mouthpiece +if only they could succeed in making their voice +heard.</p> + +<p>Now when there is any great uprising in any one +district, there is generally a local as well as a general +cause of complaint; and in this remote West-Country +district it was far less the question of reformed representation +and the abolishment of certain grave abuses +which was exercising the minds of the community than +the fact that new machinery had recently been set up +in some of the mills at Pentreath, and in some of the +farmsteads scattered about the district; and the panic +of the Midlands had spread down to the South and West, +the people fully believing that this would be the last +straw—the last drop of bitterness in their cup, and that +nothing but absolute starvation lay before them unless +they took prompt measures to defend themselves from +the dreaded innovations.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>The Midlands and North had set the example. Ever +since the rising of the Luddites there had been more +or less of disturbance in the manufacturing districts, +where, of course, in the first instance the introduction +of machinery did throw certain classes of operatives out +of employment; and they were unable to realise that +this would soon be more than made up to them by the +increase of trade resulting from the improvement in +the many complicated processes of manufacture. In +the North the riots were on the wane. It was just +beginning to dawn upon the minds of the more enlightened +artisans, that if they would leave matters to +take a peaceful course they would soon see themselves +reinstated in the mills, where trade was growing more +brisk and active than ever before. But away down in +the remote West, any innovation was received with the +greatest horror and aversion, and the people had heard +just enough about their wrongs to be in that restless +state when any sort of activity becomes attractive, and +any uprising against authority appears in the light of an +act of noble resistance to tyranny.</p> + +<p>Pentreath was an ancient town, though a small one. +It sent a member to Parliament, although the huge and +fast-increasing towns of the North did not. Of late years +it had become a small centre of manufacturing industry, +the water-power there being considerable. There were +two cloth-mills and one silk-mill, a paper manufactory, +and another where soap and essences were made. One +reason why the district round Pentreath was not feeling +the general poverty and distress very keenly was that +from the rural districts men who could not get employment +upon the land could generally find it in the mills. +But when almost at one and the same time improved +machinery became introduced both into agriculture and +manufacture, the sense of revolt was deeply stirred. +A certain number of turbulent spirits had been simultaneously<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> +dismissed both from the farms and from the +mills, and these two contingents at once banded together +in somewhat dangerous mood to talk over the situation +and their own private grievances, and to set about to +find a remedy.</p> + +<p>It was the Duke who first introduced the machinery +into the neighbourhood, although he had dismissed no +servant of his until three of his men were found tampering +with and injuring the new machine, when he promptly +sent them about their business. Their bad example +was followed by others, and four more were summarily +dismissed; whereupon the Duke let it be thoroughly +understood that any servant of his taking that line +would be promptly discharged, but that he had no +intention of dismissing any of those on his estate who +were orderly and obedient, and used the improved implements +in a right and workmanlike way. This declaration +had the effect at Penarvon of stopping depredations for +the moment, and no more labourers were sent away; but +those who had already received notice were not taken on +again: for the Duke, though a just and liberal master, +was a stern upholder of law and order, and had no intention +of having his will or his authority set at naught by +a handful of ill-conditioned fellows, who refused to listen +to any other guides than their own blind passions.</p> + +<p>These men gravitated naturally into Pentreath, in the +hope of finding employment there, only to be met by +the news that the mills were turning off hands, owing +to the saving of labour by the introduction of improved +machinery. The band of what in these days would be +termed “unemployed” gathered together by common +accord, and roved the streets by day, begging and picking +up odd jobs of work as they could get them, and meeting +at night in a low tavern on the outskirts of the town to +spend their pittance generally on raw spirit, and to talk +sedition and treason.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>Possibly, had no other power been at work just at that +juncture, the whole thing might have begun and ended in +talk; but there were other forces in operation, all favourable +to the spirit of revolt and vengeful hatred which +actuated this small band; and as discontented men of every +class draw together by common consent, however various +their grievances may be, so did the newly aroused politicians +of the place, eager and anxious to awaken the country +to a sense of its political grievances, and the urgent need +of parliamentary reform, gravitate towards the little band +of discontented labourers and operatives, sure of finding +in them allies in the general feeling of revolt against +the prevailing system, which they had set themselves to +amend, and hoping quickly to arouse in them the patriotic +enthusiasm which kindled their own hearts.</p> + +<p>Saul’s friend the cobbler was the first to address these +men on the subject of the hoped-for reform. He went to +them upon several evenings, strove to arouse in them a +sense of indignation against prevailing abuses and evils, +and found his task an easy one. Wherever he made out +that the country was suffering from the oppression of +tyrants and the greed of the rich, he was received with +howls of approval and delight. The answer of his +audience was invariably a cry of “Down with it! Down +with them!” They would have rushed with the greatest +pleasure through the streets, and attacked the houses of the +mill-owners, or have broken into the mills and gutted them, +had there been any to lead them. But the cobbler +was a man of words rather than of action. He was +one to foster fierce passions, but his talents did not lie +in directing the action which follows upon such an +arousing. One Sunday afternoon, it is true, he headed +a procession which marched through the streets, shouting +and threatening, so that the people shut their shutters +in haste, and begged that the watchmen or the military +might go out and disperse the mob. No harm, however,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> +came of the demonstration, save that an uneasy +feeling was aroused in the minds of the townfolk, who +looked askance upon the haggard men seeking alms or +employment about their doors, and were less disposed +to help them than they had been at first.</p> + +<p>Thus the ill-feeling between class and class grew and +increased, and it was to a band of men rendered well-nigh +desperate by misery and a sense of burning wrong +that Saul came down one Sunday, his own heart inflamed +by passion and hatred, to supplement the efforts +of the cobbler by one of his own harangues, which +had already won for their author a certain measure of +celebrity.</p> + +<p>Saul had greatly changed during the past six months, +changed and developed in a remarkable manner. When +he stood by the orchard wall making love to Genefer +Teazel, he had looked a very fine specimen of his race, +and superior in many points to the labourers with whom +he consorted, and whose toil he shared; but since the +rapid development of his mental faculties had set in, +he had altered wonderfully in his outward man, and no +one to look at him would believe, save from his dress +and the hardness of his hands, that he had spent his +life in mere manual toil on a farm. His face, always +well-featured, had now taken an expression of concentration +and purpose, seldom seen in a labouring man; the +eyes were very intense in their expression, and, as the +fisher-folk were wont to say, went through you like a +knife. His tall figure had grown rather thin and gaunt, +as though the activity of the mind had reacted on the +body, or else that he had been denying himself the +needful support for his strong frame. He looked like a +man whom it would not be well to incite to anger. +There was a sufficient indication in his face of suppressed +passion and fury held under firm control, yet +ready to blaze up into a fierce life under provocation.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> +He looked like a man born to be an Ishmaelite in his +life’s pilgrimage—his hand against every man, and +every man’s hand against him—a man in revolt against +the world, against society, against himself. A keen +and yet sympathetic physiognomist could hardly study +that face without a sigh of compassion. Saul Tresithny, +with his nature, his temperament, his antecedents, could +scarcely have any but an unhappy life—unless he had +been able to yield himself in childlike submission to +the teachings of his grandfather, and look for peace and +happiness beyond the troublous waves of this world, to +the far haven of everlasting peace.</p> + +<p>Saul had spent the past six months in close reading and +study, whenever time and opportunity were his. First from +his friend the cobbler, then from his friend the Duke’s +heir, he had received books and papers; and out in the +fields in his dinner-hour, or trudging to and fro with +the plough, or up in his attic at night, with his companions +snoring around him, he had studied and read and +thought—thought till it seemed often as though thought +would madden him, read until he looked haggard and +wan from his long vigils, and he found the best part +of his pittance of wage go in the purchase of the +rushlights by which he studied his books at night. +Eustace had lent him histories of other nations—down-trodden +peoples who had revolted at last from their +oppressors, and had won for themselves freedom—sometimes +of body, sometimes of mind, at the sword’s point. +Eustace had tried to choose writers of impartiality; but +his own bias had been too strong to make him a very +good director of such a mind as Saul’s; and when a +man of that temperament reaches passages which are +not to his liking, he simply skips over them till he +reaches what is more to his taste; and Saul had invariably +missed out those explanatory and exculpatory +pages, wherein the historian shows the other side of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> +the question, and explains how some of the grievances +most declaimed against by an oppressed people are the +result rather of circumstance, and the changing order +of the day, than the direct outcome of a real injustice +and tyranny.</p> + +<p>So his mind rapidly developed in a fashion by no means +desired by his mentor; and so soon as the restraining +influence of Eustace was removed, the wild and ardent +imagination of the young man had full sway, and he had +none to give him better counsel or strive to check the +hot intemperance of his great zeal. He avoided his +grandfather, and Abner was too wise to force his company +where it was not wanted. He would not speak to +Mr. St. Aubyn when the latter found him out, and sought, +in his gentle and genial way, to get the hot-headed youth, +of whom much talk was going about, to make a friend of +him, and open out upon the subjects of such moment to +all the country. No; Saul maintained a rigid and obstinate +silence; and the Rector went away disappointed, for +he feared there were evil days in store for Saul. Farmer +Teazel, who was a staunch old Tory, and an ardent believer +in the existing state of things, even though he admitted +times to be bad in the immediate present, had no manner +of patience with his new-fangled notions, that were, as +he said, “driving honest folks crazy.” He had winked +at Saul’s conduct as long as he could, valuing the many +sterling qualities possessed by the young man, and +hoping every day that he would turn over a new leaf. +But his patience had long been sorely tried. Saul, not +content with haranguing the fisher-folk down in the +hamlet, who were always ready to imbibe any sort of lawless +doctrine—their one idea being that the law and the +customs were one and the same, and that to revolt against +any existing order was a step towards that freedom of +traffic which was their idea of prosperity and happiness. +Not that they wished the excise duties withdrawn—for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> +that would render abortive their illicit traffic; but they +always fancied that there was advantage to be gained +from stirring up strife and revolting against established +order, and were eager listeners to Saul’s speeches. But +not content with that, Saul was working might and main +amongst the more placid and bovine rustics, his fellow-labourers +on the farm, to emulate the fisher-folk in their +restless discontent, and with this amount of success, that +when Farmer Teazel, in imitation of his noble landlord, +introduced with pride and delight a new and wonderful +machine into his own yard, his own men rose in the +night and did it some fatal injury, which cost him pounds +to repair, as well as delaying for a whole month the operations +which it had especially been bought to effect.</p> + +<p>This was too much. The farmer was in the main a placid +man and a good-tempered one; but he could not stand this, +and he well knew whom he had to thank for the outrage. +Whether or no Saul had prompted the men to do the +mischief mattered little. It was he who had fostered in +them the spirit of disobedience and self-will which had +been at the bottom of the outrage; and so long as he +remained on the place there was no prospect of things +being better. Before his anger had had time to cool, +he summoned Saul, and a battle of words ensued, which +led to the summary dismissal of the young man, whilst +the farmer strode out of the kitchen, in which the +interview had taken place, in a white heat of rage and +disappointment.</p> + +<p>Saul stood looking after him with a strange gleam +in his eyes, and then his eyes caught sight of Genefer +crouching in a corner with her hands over her face.</p> + +<p>Saul had not thought much of Genefer all this while, +as presumably she had been well aware; but the sight of +her distress touched him, and he would have approached +her to offer some rude sympathy, had she not suddenly +sprung up and faced him with blazing eyes and a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> +fury only second to that which her father had displayed.</p> + +<p>In the emphatic and most idiomatic vernacular, which +is always used by natives in moments of excitement, she +told Saul <i>her</i> opinion of him and of his conduct; she let +loose in a flood all the mingled pique, anger, disappointment, +and jealousy which his conduct of the past months +had inspired. That he should presume to ask her love, +and then care for nothing but wild notions that savoured +to her of the devil himself, and which all right-minded +people reprobated to the last extent, was an insult she +could not put up with. Woman-like, she had looked to +stand first and to stand paramount with handsome Saul, +when once she had permitted him to woo her; and instead +of this, he had heeded her less and less with every week +that passed, and had even refused to remain on Sunday +at the farm when she had asked it as a favour; and at +last had done this mischief to her father through his mischievous, +ill-conditioned tongue. She would have none +of him, no, not she! He might go to his friends the fisher-folk, +or to the slums of Pentreath for a wife, if he wanted +one!—she would have none of him! He had been false to +her, he had treated her shamefully, and now he might go. +She never wished to see him again! And bursting into +tears (the almost invariable climax to an outburst of anger +with women of her class) Genefer rushed from the room, +and Saul, looking white about the lips, but with a blaze +in his eyes which made all who met him shrink away from +him, put together the few things he had at the farm +besides his books, and stalked away into Pentreath, where +he found an audience as ready to listen to him as he was +to address them.</p> + +<p>And this is how it came about that St. Bride was set in +a ferment of excitement by the news that there were +exciting scenes going on at Pentreath—mysterious outbreaks +of popular fury—machines broken in the mills—a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> +statue of the old king standing in the market-place, +found in the river-bed one morning greatly shattered by +the fall—a baker’s shop looted in broad daylight another +day; and over all a sense that there was more to come, +and that this was but the beginning of what might grow +to rival one of the great risings of the Midlands and the +North, when private houses had been broken into, and an +untold amount of damage inflicted upon rich men, who +had drawn upon themselves the popular hatred.</p> + +<p>Now St. Bride, as represented by the fishermen, had +no wish to be left out of any enterprise which promised +either excitement or reward. It was whispered in all +quarters that Saul was at the head of the rioters, and +that his was the master-mind there. If so, they would +be certain of a welcome from him if they joined his little +band; and so it came about that, whilst the boats still +lay high and dry upon the beach, the men of the place +were almost all mysteriously missing, and their womenfolk +professed absolute ignorance as to what had taken +them off.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. St. Aubyn,” said Bride, with tears in her eyes, +as she encountered the clergyman of St. Erme on the +downs, bent in the same direction as herself, to the cottage +where a sick woman was lying, “do you think it is true +what they are all saying, that Abner’s grandson is gathering +together a band of desperate men, and intends to try +and provoke a general rising, and to march all through +the district, breaking machines and robbing and plundering? +It seems too dreadful to think of; but wherever +I go I hear the same tale. Do you believe that it is +true?”</p> + +<p>“I trust that you have heard an exaggerated account +of what is passing, Lady Bride,” he said; “though I fear +that there are troublous days before us; but I think we +are prepared for that, and can look without over-much +dismay around. Remember, my child, that when we see<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> +the beginning of these things coming to pass, we are to +lift up our heads, because our redemption draweth nigh. +In that is our safeguard and our hope.”</p> + +<p>The light flashed into Bride’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“Ah! thank you for reminding me. It is so hard to keep +it always in mind; but indeed it is like the beginning—men’s +heart’s failing them for fear, and for looking after +those things that are coming on the earth. Mr. St. +Aubyn, tell me, <i>are</i> the people altogether wrong in demanding +redress of those grievances which lie so heavy +upon them? Is it right that they should have so little, +so very little voice in the government of the nation, when +we call this a free and a constitutional form of government? +Need we condemn them altogether for doing +what their ignorance and misery drive them to do? Are +we not also to blame in that they are so miserable and +ignorant?”</p> + +<p>“In very truth we are, Lady Bride——”</p> + +<p>“Ah! no; not <i>Lady</i> Bride to you, when we are alone +like this,” she pleaded. “It never used to be so. Let it +be Bride again, as though I were a child. Ah! would that +I were, and that <i>she</i> were with me! Oh, it is all so dark +and perplexing now!”</p> + +<p>“It is, my child, it is, even for the best and wisest on +the earth. Let us take comfort in the thought that it is +light with God, and that He sees the working out of His +eternal purposes, even where most let and hindered by the +sin and opposition of man. A time of darkness is upon us—that +none can deny—not in this land alone, but in all +the lands of Christendom; and you are right in your feeling +that it is not the ignorant masses who are alone in +fault. We—the Church—the nobility, the great ones of +the earth, have failed again and again in our duties +towards those below them, and now they have to suffer. +Two wrongs do not make one right, and the method in +which the ignorant seem like to set to work is not only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> +foolish, but sinful also; and in our sense of sympathy for +the people and our self-reprobation, we must not palliate, +even though we may partially understand the cause of +the sin. It is right that the people should be thought of +and rightly done by. God has taught us that again and +again; but it is not the ordinance of God that the people +should govern—and yet, if I read my Bible and interpret +aright, that is what we shall come to in the days of the +end; it will no longer be the voice of God, nor yet the +voice of the king which will prevail, but the voice of +the people; and we shall again hear in newer and more +subtle forms that word of blasphemy which tells us that +the voice of the people is the voice of God.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! do you think so? That is what I have heard +said; but surely it will take long, very long, to accomplish?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps; I know not. In France it was accomplished +in a few terrible years. Methinks in this land, where +God has been so gracious times and again, it may be +differently done and with less of terror and bloodshed; +but the end will assuredly be the same. One can see, +even from a worldly aspect, how it will be accomplished. +Men say, and with justice and truth, that there should +be in the community, for the good of all, a fair class representation—that +is, that each class should have such a +voice in the discussion of the affairs of the nation as will +secure for that class the meed of justice and consideration +to which its position entitles it. At present this is not +so. The rising and important middle class have almost +no representation, and the labouring and artisan class +none. Yet they have a stake in the country, and are +entitled to a voice.”</p> + +<p>“That is what Eustace says, and it sounds right.”</p> + +<p>“It is right, according to my ideas of justice, and will +be gradually accomplished, as you know, by extension of +franchise and so forth. We need not discuss that theme<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> +now. What I mean to point out to you is the danger +that threatens us in the future. From claiming a fair +class representation as the basis of sound government, +the next step will be the theory that every man—or at +least every householder—should have a vote, and most +plausible reasons will be given for this. Probably in +time it will be carried into law, and then you will see at +once an end of class representation as well as of fair +constitutional government. The power will no longer be +balanced. It will all be thrown into the hands of one +class, and that the most numerous but the least educated, +the least thoughtful, the least capable of clear and sound +judgment, because their very conditions of life preclude +them from study and the acquisition of the needful knowledge +requisite for sound government. The power will be +vested in the class the most easily led or driven by unprincipled +men, by the class with the least stake in the +country, and the least power of seeing the true bearing +of a measure which may be very plausible, but absolutely +unsound. It may take the people very long to find their +power, and perhaps longer still to dare to use it; but in +time both these things will be achieved, and then the +greatness of England will be at an end; and, as I think, +the state of misery and confusion which will ensue will +be far, far greater than what she has endured beneath the +sway of her so-called tyrants and oppressors.”</p> + +<p>Bride heaved a long sigh.</p> + +<p>“Eustace would not think that,” she remarked softly.</p> + +<p>“No, nor many great men of the day; and time has +yet to show whether they are right, or an old parish +priest who has been buried alive all his days and knows +nothing, as they would argue, of the signs of the times;” +and here Mr. St. Aubyn smiled slightly. “Well, well, +God knows, and in His good time we shall know. For the +present that must content us. Let us not be in haste to +condemn. Let us be patient, and full of faith and hope.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> +He has always pointed out a way of escape for His +faithful servants and followers before things become too +terrible for endurance. Our hope no man can take from +us. Let us live in its heavenly light, and then shall we +not be confounded at the swelling of the waters and the +raging of the flood—those great waters of the latter days—supporting +the beast and his scarlet rider, which are +peoples, and multitudes, and nations, and tongues, the +power of a great and lawless democracy.”</p> + +<p>Bride looked awed and grave, yet full of confidence +and hope; but the conversation was brought to a close +by their arrival at the cottage whither both were bound.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b144.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b145.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br /> + +<i>A STRANGE NIGHT</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b094i.jpg" alt="I" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">IT was a sultry August night, and Bride felt no +disposition for sleep. She had acquired during +her mother’s long illness the habit of wakefulness +during the earlier hours of the night, +when she was frequently beside the sick-bed, ministering +to the wants of the patient. Since death had robbed her +of that office, she had fallen into the habit of spending +the earlier hours of the night in meditation and prayer, +together with a study of the Scriptures; and to-night, +after her old nurse had brushed out her abundant hair, +and arranged it for the night, and after she had exchanged +her dress for a long straight wrapper which was +both cooler and more comfortable, she dismissed the old +servant with a few sweet words of thanks, and setting +her windows wide open to the summer night, knelt down +beside the one which looked out over the moonlit bay, +and was soon lost to all outward impression by her absorption +in her own prayerful meditations.</p> + +<p>The hour of midnight had boomed from the clock-tower +before she moved, and then she was aroused less +by that sound than by a gradual consciousness that +there was in the sky, to which her eyes were frequently +raised, a glow that was not of the moon, but was more +ruddy in tone, and seemed to absorb into itself the +softer and whiter light. As she remarked this, her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> +thoughts came back to earth again, and rising from her +knees, she leaned out of the window, and then crossed +the room hastily towards that other window looking +away in the direction of Pentreath, and then at once she +understood.</p> + +<p>A tall column of fire arose from behind the belt of +woodland which hid the distant town, a beautiful but +awful pillar of fire, reaching up as it seemed to the very +heavens, and swaying gently to and fro in the light +summer breeze. For a few moments Bride stood gazing +at it with eyes in which pain and wonderment were +gathering, and then a stifled exclamation broke from +her lips.</p> + +<p>“God forgive them!—that is the work of incendiaries!”</p> + +<p>She stood rigid and motionless a few moments longer, +and then with rapid fingers she began unfastening her +wrapper, and clothing herself in one of her dark walking +dresses. Her heart was beating fast and furiously. Her +face was very pale, for she was taking a resolution that +cost her a great effort; but she seemed to see her duty +clearly mapped out before her, and she came of a race +that was not wont to shrink from the path of duty because +the road was rough.</p> + +<p>Few knew better than did Lady Bride Marchmont the +temper of the rude fisher-folk of St. Bride’s Bay. From +her childhood she had been wont to accompany her +mother down to that cluster of cottages and hovels +which formed the little community, and she had grown +up with an intuitive understanding of the people, and +their ways and methods of thought, which had been +matured and deepened by her many talks with Abner. +She knew full well that, although in the main kindly +men individually, there was a vein of ferocity running +through the fibre of their nature, which a certain class of +events always awoke to active life. Thirty years back<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> +these men, or their fathers, were professionally wreckers, +and it had needed long patience, and all the gentle +influence of the Duchess and her helpers, to break them +of this terrible sin. Of late years deliberate wrecking +had to a very great extent died out, but there +was still in the hearts of the fishermen an irradicable +conviction that when “Providence” did send a vessel +to pieces on their iron-bound coast, the cargo of that +vessel became their lawful prey; and they were careless +enough, in striving to outwit the authorities and secure +the booty, of any loss of human life which might have +been averted by prompt measures on their part. They +made it rather a principle than otherwise to let the +crew drown before their eyes without any attempt at +rescue. When the crew were saved, they had a way of +claiming the contents of the ship if any came ashore, +and that was a notion altogether foreign to the ideas +of the fishermen of St. Bride.</p> + +<p>The same instinct of plunder awoke within them +when any misfortune occurred in the neighbourhood; +and wherever there was booty to be had for the +taking, there were the hardy fisher-folk of the place +likely to be found. Bride realised in a moment that +if they saw the glow of this fire, and understood its +meaning as she did, they would set off at once to join +the band of marauders and incendiaries; and as every +addition to such a band brings a fresh access of lawlessness +and a growing sense of power, the very fact of the +arrival of this reinforcement was likely enough to result +in fresh outrage, and fresh scenes of destruction and +horror.</p> + +<p>Whilst standing rigid and silent, watching that terrible +pillar of flame, Bride had turned the matter over in her +mind, and resolved upon her own course of action. She +knew the fishermen well, and knew their nature—at +once soft and passionate, gentle and ferocious. Were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> +she to alarm the household and get her father to send +down a number of the servants to try and stop them by +force from marching to join the riot, she knew that +nothing but fighting and disaster would ensue. There +was a long-standing and instinctive feud between the +servants of the castle, many of whom were not natives of +the place, and the rugged fisher-folk of the bay. The +servants despised the fishermen, and the fishermen hated +the servants. No good could possibly result from such a +course of action. But Bride knew every man amongst +them. She had gone fearlessly in and out of their houses +since childhood. She had sailed in their boats on +the bay, she had visited their wives in sickness, and +had clothed their children with the work of her own +hands. They loved her in their own rough way. She +knew that well, and she was a power in their midst, as +her mother had been before her. They might be stayed +by her pleading words, when no attempt at force would +do more than whet their desire after battle and plunder. +If she went alone, she had a chance with them; if she +stayed to get help, all would be lost.</p> + +<p>Her resolution was taken in less time than it has taken +to read these lines. Donning her plainest dress and +cloak, and softly summoning from the anteroom a great +hound, who was the invariable companion of her lonely +walks, she opened another door into one of the turreted +chambers of the castle, and found her way down a spiral +staircase, lighted by broad squares of moonlight from +unclosed windows, to a door at the base, the bolts of +which she drew back easily—for this was her own ordinary +mode of access to the gardens—and found herself +out in the soft night-air with the moon overhead, and +that glow in the sky behind her which told such a terrible +tale of its own. There were two ways from the castle to +the fishing-village lying out of sight beneath the shelter +of the cliff. One was the long and roundabout way of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> +the zigzag carriage-drive, leading through the grounds +and out by the lodge upon the road, from which a bye-lane +led down to the shore. The other was a far shorter, +but a rough and in some seasons a perilous track—a narrow +pathway formed by a jutting ledge of rock, extending +by one of nature’s freaks from a little below the great terrace +in front of the castle right round the angle of the +bluff, and so to St. Bride’s Bay itself. A long, long flight +of steps led down from the sea-terrace of Penarvon to +the beach below, where the castle boats lay at anchor, or +were housed within their commodious boat-house, according +to weather and season; and from one spot as you descended +these steps a sure-footed person could step upon +the ledge of rock which formed the pathway round the +headland. Bride was familiar from childhood with this +path, and had traversed it too often and too freely to feel +the smallest fear now. The moonlight was clear and +intense. She knew every foot of the way, and even the +hound who followed closely in her wake was too well used +to the precarious ledge to express any uneasiness when +his mistress led the way down to it.</p> + +<p>With rapid and fearless precision Bride made the +transit round the rocky headland, and saw the waters of +the bay lying still and calm at her feet. The ledge of +rock sloped rapidly down on this side of the bluff, and +very quickly Bride found herself quite close to the hamlet, +which lay like a sleeping thing beneath the sheltering +crags. Her heart gave a bound of relief. All was still +as yet. Perhaps the men had not realised what was +passing, and were all at home and asleep. She paused +a moment, reconnoitring, wondering whether she would +do better to go forward or back. But the sight of a light +shining steadily in one window, and a shadow passing to +and fro within the room it lighted, convinced her that +something was astir, and decided her to go on. She +knew the cottage well. It was that of the old woman who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> +went by the name of Mother Clat. Bride knew that if +any mischief were afoot, she would be the first to know +it; nay, it was like enough it would be hatched and discussed +beneath her very roof. Even now the worst +characters of the place, the boldest of the men, and those +most bent on riot and plunder, might be gathered together +there; but the knowledge of this probability did no deter +Bride, who had all the resolute fearlessness of her race +and temperament; and she went composedly forward and +knocked at the outer door.</p> + +<p>“Coom in wi’ ye,” answered a familiar voice, and +Bride lifted the latch and entered.</p> + +<p>A fire of peat turves glowed on the open hearth, over +which a pot was hanging; but the room was empty, save +for the old woman herself, who gazed in unaffected amaze +at the apparition of the slim black-robed girl with her +white face and shining eyes.</p> + +<p>“Loramassy! ef it ban’t t’ Laady Bride hersen! +Mercy on us! What’s brought she doon heer at such +a time! My pretty laady, you ’a no beznez out o’ your +bed sech a time as this. You shudden ’ave abin an’ +gone vor tu leave t’ castle to-night!”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” asked Bride, coming forward towards +the fire, and looking full at the woman, who shrank +slightly under the penetrating gaze. “What is going +on abroad to-night, Mother Clat? I know that something +is?”</p> + +<p>“Fegs! I’m thinking the dowl himsel’s abroad these +days,” answered the woman uneasily. “The bwoys are +that chuck vull o’ mischief. Theer’s no holdin’ un when +’e gets un into ’is maw. It du no manner o’ gude to +clapper-claw un. ’T on’y maakes un zo itemy’s a bear +wi’ a zore yed.”</p> + +<p>“Where are the men?” asked Bride quietly. The +woman eyed the girl uneasily and not without suspicion, +but the expression of her face seemed to reassure her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>“Ye dwawnt mean no harm to the bwoys ef so be as +I tellee?” she answered tentatively.</p> + +<p>“No, indeed,” answered Bride earnestly. “I want to +keep them from harm all I can. I am so terribly afraid +they are running into it themselves. I hoped I should +be in time to stop it. Oh, I fear I am too late!”</p> + +<p>“Crimminy!” ejaculated the old woman, with admiration +in her voice and eyes, “ef yu came to try an’ stop +they bwoys from mischief, yu are a righy bold un!—that +yu be! But ’tidden no use tu argufy widden. I did go +for tu try mysen: but twarn’t no use. Et gwoeth agin +the grain o’ men-folk tu listen tu a woman—let alone +a bit of a gurl like yu, my laady.”</p> + +<p>“I think they would have listened to me if I could +have found them in time,” said Bride softly, with a great +regret in her eyes. “You mean they have all gone off +to join the rioters over at Pentreath?”</p> + +<p>“They’ve abin tu Pentreath ever sin’ yestereen. Yu’ve +coom tu late, my pretty laady. Du ee go back now. +’Tidden no place for yu heer. What ud his Graace say +ef he heard you was tu St. Bride’s at this time o’ night?”</p> + +<p>The woman was so manifestly uneasy that the girl +suspected something, though she knew not what. As she +stood looking into the fire, Mother Clat still urging her +to be gone, it suddenly occurred to her that possibly +the rioters had other plans than those whispered designs +against the mills of Pentreath. Had not her own father +angered one section of the community by the introduction +of machinery upon the land? And when the spirit +of revolt was aroused and well whetted by scenes of outrage, +might not one lead to others?</p> + +<p>Looking straight at the old woman with the grave direct +glance which made this girl a power sometimes with those +about her, she asked clearly and steadily—</p> + +<p>“Do you mean that you are expecting the men +back? that they are bent on doing mischief here? Do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> +not try and deceive me. It is always best to speak the +truth.”</p> + +<p>The old woman cowered before the girl, as she never +cowered in the midst of the rude rough men, even when +they were in their cups, and threatened her with rough +ferocity.</p> + +<p>“Yu nidden be glumpy wi’ I,” she half whimpered, +“I an’t adued nawt but try to keep un back. I twold +un it ud coom tu no gude. They’d better letten bide. +But I be terrabul aveared they means mischief. It’s +awl along o’ that Zaul. He’ve abin arufyin’, and aggin’ +un on, and now they du zay as ’e’s leadin’ un the dowl +on’y knaws wheer; and they’re fair ’tosticated wi’t all!”</p> + +<p>Bride started a little, as though something had stung +her, and a look of keen pain came into her face.</p> + +<p>“Saul,” she said softly, “Abner’s boy! Ah! what a +sorrow it will be for him! And that is Eustace’s doing! +It was he who is responsible, not the poor hot-headed +youth himself. O Eustace! Eustace! will you ever see +the danger of the path you are treading, and the peril +into which you are leading others?”</p> + +<p>The woman was loth to speak at first, but the charm +of Bride’s gentleness, and her absolute sense of security +in the goodwill of the young lady, overcame her reticence +at last, and she told the girl all she knew. It was not +much; but she had gathered from some news that +reached her at dusk that she might expect a party some time +in the small hours of the morning, who would +stand in need of refreshment, but would pay her well +for her trouble. Reading between the lines of the message, +she had got a shrewd notion that the marauders +under Saul Tresithny would pay a visit to the neighbourhood +of St. Bride’s that night, and it might be presumed +that the Duke’s new machinery might suffer in consequence. +This was by no means certain, however. The +Duke was known to take precautions not possible for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> +smaller farmers with fewer servants and less issue at +stake, and it might be that the attack would be made +upon the smaller men, who would less easily recoup themselves +for the loss. Of that the woman knew nothing; as +a matter of fact, she did not know, but only guessed, +that an attack might be made at all. She had soon +come to an end of such information as she possessed, +and Bride was left to consider what she ought to do +under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>Should she go home and rouse her father’s men? or +would that only bring about the very collision she so +much wished to avoid? Was the information received +sufficient for her to act upon, or had it originated with the +woman herself, who was evidently not in the confidence +of the men? Musing for a few moments over this +question, Bride made a quick resolve, and after saying +a brief but kindly farewell to Mother Clat, who was +anxiously studying her face all the while, she slipped +out of the cottage, and along the silent little street of +the village beneath the cliff, till she found herself upon +the bit of rough road which led upwards from the shore, +through a narrow gully, towards the church and the +rectory.</p> + +<p>Bride knew the habits of Mr. Tremodart. He was +seldom in bed before one or two o’clock in the morning. +He was a man of eccentric ways, and almost invariably +after his supper at half-past eight, sat down to smoke in +one of his untidy rooms, and at ten o’clock started out on +a long walk over the moors or along the cliffs, coming +home about midnight, and sitting up with a book for +an hour or two later. It was not much after one o’clock +now, and she had good hopes of catching him before +he retired. With all his peculiarities, and his lack of +the spirituality that was to Bride as the breath of life, +the Cornishman was a shrewd, hard-headed man, with a +large fund of common-sense, and a wide experience of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> +St. Bride’s folks and their ways. He would be by far +the best person to acquaint with the danger of the hour. +He was (as was usual in those days) magistrate as well +as clergyman, had a secular as well as sacred charge +over his people. To her great relief, as she unlatched +the garden-gate, she saw him standing out in his untidy +plot of ground and looking at the red light in the sky. +As her light footfall fell upon his ear, he turned with +a start, and his face expressed a great amazement +when he saw who had come to disturb his solitude at +such an hour.</p> + +<p>“Lady Bride! Will wonders never cease! And what +are yu doing out here alone at this time of night, my +child? It is hardly fit yu should be abroad with no +protector but your dog. Is anything amiss at home? +And why did yu not send rather than come?”</p> + +<p>In a few words Bride told the story of her evening’s +vigil and its result, the clergyman standing and looking +down at her in the moonlight, and making patterns on +the gravel with the point of his stick.</p> + +<p>“The foolish lads! the foolish, wrong-headed lads! +they will bring mischief on their heads one of these +days, I take it. Well, well, well, it is perhaps less their +fault than those who egg them on, and puzzle their +heads by half-truths. Dear, dear, we must stop the +mischief if we can. I wonder now where they are like +to go first. To the Duke’s, think you, Lady Bride? +’Twas he who first brought in this new machinery, and +there would be most glory in destroying his property, as +they would think it, poor misguided souls!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but they know my father’s men have firearms, +and that the dogs are left loose in the great yard where +the machines are kept, and that there is always one +man sleeping in the room by the great alarm-bell that +was put up, who would rouse the whole castle if he +heard any sound of attack.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>“If they know that, they are hardly likely to be +daring enough to try to injure his Grace’s property,” +remarked Mr. Tremodart thoughtfully. “But there are +several more in their black books—Farmer Teazel, for +instance—and that misguided young Tresithny, whom +yu say is at the head of all this, knows the place well, +and would be able to lead them to it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I cannot believe it of Saul!” cried Bride, with a +note of pain in her voice, “to turn into a leader of +cowardly mobs, after the teaching and the training he +has had! It doesn’t seem possible; yet I fear it is too +true. And it is, I fear, the doing of my cousin Eustace. +Oh, it seems too sad that we should first lead them on +to riot, and then sit in judgment upon them for what +we have taught them to do.”</p> + +<p>“I must see if I cannot stop this before it has come to +a matter for the magistrates,” said Mr. Tremodart, with +a firm look upon his face; “if things go too far, it becomes +a hanging matter for the ringleaders—examples +are made, and the people intimidated by the hanging of +those who lead them. We must not let Abner’s grandson +finish his life upon the gallows if we can help it. So +come with me, Lady Bride; I will see you to the gate of +your home, and then go and meet these lads if they do +pay us a visit. They will most likely take the direct +road for some distance, and the night is very still. I +think I shall find them out by the tramp of their feet. I +have good ears for sound.”</p> + +<p>Bride knew that, and walked rapidly by his side up +the steep road trending upwards towards the castle; but +when the lodge gate was reached, and he would have +opened it for her, she paused and placed her hand upon +his arm.</p> + +<p>“I cannot,” she said; “I must go on. I must see the +end of this. Indeed, I shall get no harm. Nobody will +lay a finger on me. No, do not refuse me; do not think<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> +me self-willed, but I must go with you. Something +within me tells me I must. Mr. Tremodart, it has been +the doing of a Marchmont that Saul Tresithny and these +poor ignorant fishermen are abroad with evil intent to-night. +You must not hinder me from striving to do +my share to avert the threatened danger, and I know I +shall not be hurt. You will be with me, and no one will +lay a finger on either of us. They may not listen to us; +but they will not hurt us. Our West-Country men are +not savages.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Tremodart rubbed his chin and shook his head +in some perplexity. He did not think the delicate +girl was suited to the task in hand, and he rather +feared what the Duke might say when this night’s +work came to his ears; but then it was very difficult for +him to overcome the resistance of Lady Bride, whose +rank and standing gave her an importance of her own +quite independent of that exercised by her strong personality.</p> + +<p>“I will tell my father that it was my own doing,” said +Bride quietly, observing his hesitation, and taking his +arm, she led him onwards, he yielding the point, because +he did not exactly know what else to do, having no authority +over her to insist on her return.</p> + +<p>The walk was a swift but silent one. The road lay +white beneath their feet, and the moon, which was now +sinking in the sky, threw long strange shadows over the +world. The track grew rougher as it rose upon the +down-land, but both were good walkers, and did not +heed. The great hound paced silently behind them as +they moved, till all at once it lifted up its huge head, and +after sniffing the air suspiciously for a while, broke into a +low deep bay.</p> + +<p>At that sound both pedestrians stopped and listened +intently, and in a few brief moments they heard a noise. +It was not the sound of the measured tramping they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> +had expected first to hear, but rather that of voices—voices +in confabulation or dispute, sometimes low and +confused, sometimes rising higher and higher, as if in +angry debate—the voices of a multitude, as was testified +by the continual hum, in addition to the more distinct +sounds of argument or strife. The moon just now had +passed behind a cloud, and the moor was very dark, but +Mr. Tremodart and Bride walked swiftly and silently +forward, leaving the road for the soft grass, as they +deflected their course, so as to come near to the spot +where the colloquy was being held. Their footsteps made +no sound, and Bride held the hound by the collar and +hushed him into silence. Very soon they had approached +near enough to hear what was passing, and to catch every +word of a harangue being delivered in a voice which +both of them knew only too well.</p> + +<p>“I tell yu yu are cowards to think only of duing what +is safest and easiest for yourselves. Are we fighting for +ourselves, or for our miserable and oppressed brothers? +Men, we are bound together in a great undertaking; and +if we stand shoulder to shoulder in the fight, and are true +tu ourselves and tu each other all over the land, no power +can stand against us. We are bound together tu overthrow +tyrants and oppressors—the great ones of the +earth, who fatten upon our misery and grind us to the +very dust. Those are our enemies, and all of yu know +it as well as I. And now to-night, when the power is +in our hands, are we to disgrace our cause by falling +upon men only a little better off than ourselves, and +wrecking their goods and bringing them to misery? No—I +say no. I say that would be a coward act. And +those who want to go to yon upland farm, and ruin a man +who was once as one of us, till by his industry he raised +himself to comfort, or his father before him, must go +alone. I will not be with him. There is one man only +in these parts upon whose goods I will lay a hand, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> +that is the Duke of Penarvon. He is the type tu us of +that wealth and power we are banded together tu overthrow, +and I will lead yu on tu his place and lay down +my life in the struggle with all joy. But I will knock +down the first man who tries to go to the farm, and yu +men in the crowd who owe the farmer a grudge and +hound the rest on to attack him, yu best know whether +or not I can keep my word!”</p> + +<p>There was dead silence after this speech, which was +evidently the culminating oration of a hot debate, and a +voice from the crowd called out—</p> + +<p>“Us ban’t agwain’ vur tu be a-killed by the Duke’s +men an’ theer guns—we’m had enough o’ guns. We’ll +de dalled ef we du! Ef we can’t have a slap at t’old +varmer’s ’chines, us’ll gwo home tu our beds. Be yu +agwaine to take we theer or ban’t yu?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll not take yu tu the varm, nor yet stand by and +zee yu gwo!” answered Saul hotly, lapsing from the +dignity of speaker into that of a common disputer, and +for a minute the battle raged again; but perhaps the +crowd from Pentreath had about tired itself out, for +there was no very determined resistance to Saul’s resolute +opposition, and evidently no disposition in the mob to +run the gauntlet of the Duke’s well-known and organised +opposition to such attacks.</p> + +<p>In the darkness of the night—darkest before the dawn—the +crowd slowly melted away, slowly at first, but with +considerable rapidity, as the men realised that they were +hungry, and tired, and cold, and that many of them had +plunder from the burning mill to secrete before the +authorities came in search of them. Before the moon +shone out again the mob had melted like snow before the +sun, and Mr. Tremodart and Bride, whose figures seemed +to rise up out of the very ground before the astonished +gaze of one man left standing alone upon the moor, found +themselves face to face with Saul Tresithny, who looked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> +in the white low moonlight as though confronted by +veritable wraiths.</p> + +<p>“Saul,” said Bride, coming one step forward, “why do +you hate my father so much? What ill has he ever done +to you, or to any in St. Bride?”</p> + +<p>The man made no attempt to reply, till the glance +fixed full upon him seemed to draw the answer, but without +his own volition.</p> + +<p>“It is not he himself I hate,” he said, speaking with +difficulty, “it is the whole system he supports. He is +one of the enemies of the cause of the people. He and +all his class are barriers and bulwarks against our freedom. +You do not understand; you could not. But we do, and +Mr. Marchmont will tell you all, if you ask him. He +knows. It is not the men themselves we hate, but the +power they hold over us. We will not have it longer. +We will break the yoke off our neck.”</p> + +<p>At this moment the sound of galloping horse-hoofs was +heard along the soft turf, and the three standing in the +moonlight saw a young officer of dragoons, followed by +three mounted troopers, heading straight for them.</p> + +<p>“That’s the fellow!” cried the officer; “seize him, +men, and make him fast. I thought we’d run him to +earth here. That’s your man. See he does not escape +you!”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b159.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b160.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br /> + +<i>DUKE AND DEFAULTER</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b111b.jpg" alt="B" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">BRIDE made three steps forward and stood beside +the horse ridden by the young officer, the moonlight +shining clear upon her, and adding to the +pure pale character of her beauty.</p> + +<p>“Captain O’Shaughnessy,” she said gently, “I think +you are making a mistake about this man.”</p> + +<p>In a second the young officer was off his horse and +on his feet. He recognised the speaker now, although +his astonishment at such an encounter at such an hour +of the night—or rather morning, for the dawn would +soon begin to break—was past all power of expression.</p> + +<p>“Lady Bride!—Can it be you? or do I see a ghost?”</p> + +<p>“No, it is I,” answered the girl quietly; “I came out +with our good clergyman, Mr. Tremodart, to see if we +could persuade our foolish and misguided fishermen from +St. Bride to come quietly home. We were afraid they +were bent on mischief. But we only came up as the +crowd was dispersing. Your prisoner there was refusing +to permit an attack on the machinery at Farmer Teazel’s, +which the men were eager to make. That is why I +say that I think you are making a mistake in arresting +him.”</p> + +<p>The young officer, who had received hospitality from +the Duke on occasion, as all the officers of the regiment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> +quartered near to Pentreath did from time to time, +looked from his prisoner to the lady and from the +lady to the prisoner in some perplexity, and then said +doubtfully—</p> + +<p>“Do you not think you are mistaken, Lady Bride? +Was not the man urging them to make the attack?”</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Bride at once. “He would have been +willing to do so had they marched upon my father’s place, +where there would have been a warm welcome for them, +and hard fighting; but his followers were not prepared +for that. They wished to go where there would be little +or no resistance, and where they could effect their purpose +with impunity. But your prisoner there threatened +to knock down the first man who attempted such a thing, +and his words had the effect of dispersing the crowd. +As you yourself saw, he was alone when you came up. +But for him, that dispersed crowd would have been in +full march upon one of the nearest farms here. Are +you arresting him for that?”</p> + +<p>“Faith no!” answered the young man, evidently +rather nonplussed by the lady’s story, and uncertain +how to proceed. “Nevertheless this is the man, as I +take it, whom I was sent out to capture. Is not your +name Saul Tresithny?” he asked, turning towards the +prisoner, who stood perfectly still and quiet between his +guards, making no attempt at escape.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And you were leading the mob in Pentreath this +night—helping to set fire to the mills?”</p> + +<p>“I was with them part of the time,” answered Saul +fearlessly.</p> + +<p>“And you are the man who makes speeches that sends +them all stark raving mad? I’ve heard of you, Saul +Tresithny. I think it is high time you had a taste of +prison discipline.”</p> + +<p>“I do what I can for the cause of freedom,” answered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> +Saul, throwing back his head with a gesture that was +rather fine. “I cry death to tyranny and tyrants wherever +they be, but I’ll have no hand in harming poor +men’s goods. If my men would have marched on the +castle to-night, I’d have led them with all my best +ability; but they had not the stomach for it—poor, ill-fed +wretches—one can’t wonder. Courage and starvation +are not wont to walk hand in hand, so they melted +away like a mist just before you came. But I am here, +ready to lay down my life for the cause, if that will be +any good to it.”</p> + +<p>The young officer shrugged his shoulders and turned +back to the lady with a gesture that spoke volumes.</p> + +<p>“There, Lady Bride, you see what kind of a temper +that fellow has got; your pleadings are quite thrown +away on such as he.”</p> + +<p>“He is only repeating what he has been taught, and +that by those who should know better,” pleaded Bride +gently, yet earnestly. “Captain O’Shaughnessy, I have +known that young man all my life, and until he was led +away by the voice of this cruel agitation he bore the best +of characters; and to-night he has dispersed a lawless +mob by the strength of his own determination. Men +are not punished for their intentions but for their deeds. +He says he would have injured my father’s property; +but he did not do it. What he did do was all in the +cause of law and order. Mr. Tremodart, tell Captain +O’Shaughnessy what we saw and heard; then he will +understand better that he is making a mistake about +Saul.”</p> + +<p>“I can only testify that what you’ve said is the truth, +Lady Bride. I can’t say, of course, what the young man +has been doing earlier on; but we came out to try and +stop the boys of St. Bride from getting intu mischief, +which is a way they have when mischief is afloat; and +we came upon the young fellow making a speech which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> +had the effect of sending them tu the right-about and +dispersing them. That’s all true as gospel; but whether +yu are justified in letting your prisoner escape yu, I +don’t profess to judge. Yu should know your duty better +than we can teach it yu.”</p> + +<p>“And I’m afraid my duty is to arrest him and take +him back to Pentreath,” said the young man regretfully. +“Lady Bride, I don’t like doing anything against your +wishes, but my orders were to ride after the mob and +disperse it, and capture Saul Tresithny if possible. I +don’t think I should be justified in letting him escape +me after that—once having my hands upon him. You +wouldn’t wish me, I am sure, to fail in my own duty +and obedience?”</p> + +<p>The young fellow spoke almost pleadingly, and Bride’s +face changed. The soft eager light went out of her +eyes, and was replaced by one of sadness and resignation.</p> + +<p>“I must persuade no one to fail in duty and obedience,” +she said, with a sigh, “least of all one of his +Majesty’s soldiers. But will you remember all that I have +spoken in his favour, and let it be known what he did +to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Faith and I will. I’ll say everything I can in his +favour—how he didn’t resist us, but behaved as quietly +and as well as possible, and had sent all the people to +the right-about before ever we had got up to them. +I’ll say everything I know for him, poor fellow. For +he’ll need it—with the charges they’ll bring against +him.”</p> + +<p>The soldiers, at a sign from their superior, had walked +the prisoner a little farther away, and Bride, looking +anxiously into Captain O’Shaughnessy’s face, asked, in a +low voice—</p> + +<p>“What charges will they bring?”</p> + +<p>“Arson, for one thing,” answered the young man<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> +significantly. “You see, there’s been a lot of damage done +in Pentreath to-night, and it’s pretty well known that +Tresithny and another little cobbler fellow have been the +stirrers-up of all this turbulence. They’ve got the cobbler +fast enough; and now I’ve got Tresithny too. They’ll +be examined to-morrow before the magistrates, and most +likely committed for trial. It’s been a bad bit of business, +and the country is getting exasperated with all this +senseless rioting and destruction of property. They make +signal examples now and again of ringleaders—just to try +and deter others.”</p> + +<p>Bride turned very white in the dying moonlight.</p> + +<p>“What do you think they will do to him?” she asked, +in a low voice.</p> + +<p>“Well, I can’t say. I’ll tell all you’ve told me, +Lady Bride. I’ll say what there is to say in his favour, +for he’s a plucky fellow, and deserves a better fate. +He’d make an uncommon fine soldier, if he were only in +the ranks now. But many men have been hanged for +less than has been astir in Pentreath these past few days, +and there’s a strong feeling in the place against this +fellow Tresithny.”</p> + +<p>Bride caught her breath a little sharply, but her voice +was quite calm as she bowed her adieus to the young +officer.</p> + +<p>“Well, I must not detain you any longer, Captain +O’Shaughnessy. I am grateful to you for telling me +the truth, and for promising to befriend Saul Tresithny +as far as you are able. You say he will be brought before +the magistrates to-morrow—does that mean to-day? +It is their day for sitting, I know.”</p> + +<p>“To-day! why, to be sure it is to-day,” answered +the young man, with a short laugh. “Good morning, +Lady Bride. I must be off after my men. They have +been out the best part of the night. I’ll say all I can +for that fellow Tresithny; but——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>He sprang on his horse, and the rest of the sentence, +if it was ever finished, was lost on Bride. She took +Mr. Tremodart’s arm, and he felt that she was trembling +all over.</p> + +<p>“This has been too much for you, Lady Bride,” he +said, with his awkward gentleness. “I ought not to have +let you come.”</p> + +<p>“It is not that,” answered Bride, in a very low voice. +“I am not tired; it is the thought of <i>that</i>. Oh, Mr. +Tremodart, is it true?—can they hang him for it?”</p> + +<p>“The magistrates cannot hang him,” answered Mr. +Tremodart; “and if he is committed for trial, several +weeks will elapse before the assize comes on, and things +may have happened to divert public attention; so perhaps +the feeling against him will not be running so high. +All those things make a great difference.”</p> + +<p>“But have they hanged men before for this sort of +thing?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—they have certainly done so.”</p> + +<p>Bride shuddered again. She spoke some words, as if +to herself, in so low a voice that he could not catch +them; but he thought he heard the name of Eustace pass +her lips.</p> + +<p>He shook his own head sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>“I was afraid Mr. Marchmont was wrong in trying to +stir up the people to be discontented and rebellious. He +meant well—all those reformers mean well, and have a +great deal on their side; but they go to work so often +in the wrong way, and their followers make the blunder +ten times worse. It’s not easy to say out of hand how +the thing should be done; but I take it they’ve not got +hold of the right end of the stick yet.”</p> + +<p>The two walked with rapid steps, their thoughts keeping +them silent for the most part. Bride’s mind was +hard at work; her feelings were keenly stirred within her. +The burden of the song which kept ringing in her ears<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> +was, “This is Eustace’s doing, this is Eustace’s work. +Oh, how can we let another die, and die perhaps unfit +and impenitent through his act, through his teaching? +It must not be. Oh, it shall not be! Saul must not die +through Eustace’s fault!”</p> + +<p>Bride had come to think of Eustace in a way she +scarcely understood herself. She had not greatly liked +him on his visit. For many weeks she had thought little +of him, and later on, when she knew him better, she saw +too much in him to disapprove to grow in any way +dependent upon him. And yet since his departure +she was conscious that he filled a good deal of her +thoughts, that she felt a certain responsibility in his +career, and that she was unable to help identifying +herself with him in a fashion she could neither understand +nor explain.</p> + +<p>True he had made her an offer of marriage, and had +professed an undying love for her. He had gone away +half pledged to return and seek her again; and no woman +can be utterly indifferent towards a man who loves her, +especially when she is young, and has never known what +it is to be wooed before. Bride had shrunk back in +justifiable reproof when Eustace spoke of her as being +the sun and star of his life, the elevating power which +could raise him to what heights she would; but none +the less did his words leave an impress on her sensitive +mind, and gave her much food for reflection. She was too +well taught, as well as too full of spiritual insight, to be +confused by such an outburst, or to come to look upon herself +as responsible for the soul of the man who had almost +offered it to her to make what she would of; but she had +begun to wonder what she might be able to do for him +by prayer and unceasing intercession, and the thought +was helping her to take a keener and more personal interest +in any matter in which Eustace was concerned than +would otherwise have been the case.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>The dawn was breaking as Bride reached home, but +she slipped up to her room unobserved. She was too +worn out and weary to think any more just then; and +slipping off her clothes and getting into bed, she fell into +a deep sleep, which lasted till the attendant came to rouse +her in the morning.</p> + +<p>Refreshed by those few hours of dreamless sleep, but +with her mind as full as before of the events of the past +night, she rose and dressed, and found her way to the +breakfast-room just as her father was entering.</p> + +<p>The Duke’s face was very stern. He had just heard +of the riots in Pentreath. Mr. St. Aubyn had come half-an-hour +earlier to speak to him on the matter. He was +on his way to Pentreath, for both he and Mr. Tremodart, +according to the prevailing custom of the day, were on +the magisterial bench, and he often came in on his way +to a sitting to consult the Duke on some point of law, +or ask leave to look in his many and valuable books for +some information on a knotty point. He was in the +library at this moment, and the Duke was ordering some +refreshment to be taken to him there, as he had no time +to come to the breakfast-room.</p> + +<p>When he saw his daughter, he greeted her with an +air of abstraction; and as the two sat at table together, +he told her in a few words the news which had +reached him, and spoke of his own intention of accompanying +Mr. St. Aubyn to Pentreath, in order to make +personal inquiries and inspection as to the magnitude +of the riot.</p> + +<p>Bride listened in silence whilst he spoke; and then +suddenly summoning up all her own courage (for she had +all her life stood in considerable awe of her father), she +told him in unconsciously graphic words the whole story +of her night’s adventure, and of the terrible peril now +menacing Saul Tresithny.</p> + +<p>The Duke listened in silence, but evidently the story<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> +produced a profound impression on him. His eyes never +moved from his daughter’s face as she proceeded, and at +the end he sat perfectly silent for a full three minutes +before he put a sudden question—</p> + +<p>“And why are you so keenly interested in the fate of this +Saul Tresithny, Bride? What is he more to you than the +cobbler, for instance, of whom Captain O’Shaughnessy +spoke? Is it because he is a St. Bride man—Abner’s +grandson? Poor old Abner!—it will be a terrible blow to +him!”</p> + +<p>“I think it will kill him if Saul is condemned to death,” +said the girl, with shining eyes. “Yes, papa, it is all that—I +have known Saul ever since I can remember anything—ever +since I was a tiny child, and he used to collect +shells and seaweed for me, and make me boats to sail. +But it is not that quite—it is not only that he belongs to +our village, and that he is Abner’s grandson. That would +always make me interested in him, and dreadfully sorry if +he got into trouble. But there is another and a much +greater reason than that. Oh, papa! surely you know +what it is!”</p> + +<p>He was still looking at her earnestly. Little as Bride +knew it, there was at this moment in her face a look of +her mother which the Duke had never observed there +before; her face was pale from her night’s vigil, and from +the stress of her emotion. Her dark eyes were full of a +liquid light, reminding him painfully of the dying brightness +of his wife’s eyes as she gave him her last solemn +charge. Even the note of appeal in the girl’s voice had +something of the mother’s sweetness and softness. Bride +<i>had</i> been growing increasingly like her mother during the +past months—many people had observed it; but her father +had never noticed it till now. Now the likeness struck +him with a curious force, and Bride noted that he seemed +arrested by her words as had seldom been the case before. +But he made no verbal response, and she suddenly rose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> +and came over to him and knelt down at his feet, clasping +her hands upon the arm of his chair, and turning her +sweet, quivering, earnest face up towards him. Probably +she would never have ventured upon this demonstration +before her unapproachable father, had it not been that +her sensitive spirit had received some instinctive consciousness +of sympathy new between him and herself. He +laid his hand now upon her clasped fingers, and the touch +sent a quick thrill through her.</p> + +<p>“Papa, Saul must not die!” she said, with intense +earnestness of resolve. “He must not die a traitor’s +death, for the things he has done are not prompted by +his own imaginings. The words he has spoken are not +his own. It is Eustace who has done it all—Eustace who +is the author of all. Oh, papa, the punishment must not +fall on Saul’s head. I think it would break Eustace’s +heart if he were to know that Saul had come to his death +like that.”</p> + +<p>The Duke’s face was very dark and stern, but his sternness +was not for his child, as Bride knew by the pressure +of the fingers upon her hand.</p> + +<p>“Eustace should think of this before he sets about +playing with explosives. Could he not see that young +Tresithny was not a man to be stirred up with impunity? +What a man sows, that shall he also reap.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! truly he does! Oh, papa, I fear me the harvest +Eustace will have to reap will be a very bitter one; but, +indeed, indeed Saul must not die for Eustace’s fault. +Eustace is our kinsman. He was here as our guest. +We cannot altogether shirk the responsibility of his deeds. +Papa, you will not let Saul die for what is the folly and +sin of Eustace. Ah! no. You will save him, I know. +You will save him, for the honour of the name of Marchmont!”</p> + +<p>“What can I do. Bride? I have no power. I am not +one of the magistrates.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>“You are not a magistrate, but you have more power +than any one in the county,” answered Bride, with a smile +so like her mother’s, that the heart of the old man contracted +first with pain, and then swelled with a sense +of new happiness. “Eustace would perhaps call it an +abuse, that one man should have so much power in his +hands just because he had wealth and lands; but I do +not think that. I hold that if he uses his power on behalf +of true justice and true mercy, and in the cause of Christ, +it can be a power of great good to be used for the glory +of God and the blessing of man. <i>You</i> will use your power +so, dearest father, will you not? Saul would have striven +to do you hurt last night, not from any personal enmity, +but because he has been wrongly taught by our own kinsman. +You will go to-day and plead for him before his +accusers, and show him that the rich do not hate and +oppress the poor, that the great ones of the world can feel +compassion and tenderness for those who are deceived +and led away, and that in them, and not in those who raise +the cry of hatred and bitterness, their friends are to be +found.”</p> + +<p>The Duke was silent for several minutes, and Bride did +not disturb him by so much as a word. He had laid his +hand upon her head, and was looking into her eyes with a +glance she could not understand. In very truth he was +recalling the parting scene with his wife, the last charge +she had given him before the hand of death had been +laid upon those lips. It seemed to him as if now, +all these months later, he was listening to the echo of +those words; and a strange wave of tenderness swept over +him, softening the hard lines of his face, and bringing +into it something which Bride had scarcely seen there +before.</p> + +<p>“You would have me stand before our ministers of the +law as the advocate of one who has been lawless, criminal, +and the stirrer-up of sedition? Am I to appear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> +before our townsfolks as the supporter of anarchy and +arson?”</p> + +<p>“No, but of mercy and goodwill towards the erring +and deceived,” answered Bride, “as the one man perhaps +in the whole place who can so stand fearlessly +forward on the side of mercy, when he is known to be +held the greatest enemy to the public good, the bitterest +enemy these poor misguided creatures have. They hold +you to be the embodiment of all that is cruel and crushing—you +will show them that you are their best friend. +You will plead for them, their ignorance, their inability to +see the falsity and folly of their teachers. You will show +that Saul has hitherto led an honest and industrious life; +that till he was led away by the teachings of Eustace, he +was one of the steadiest men in St. Bride. You will tell +how he averted the attack on the farm last night, and +strive to gain mercy for one who has been only blinded +and maddened by others, and has within him the germs +of so much that is good. It is a first offence. Surely +you can gain mercy for him! Oh, I do not know how to +bear the thought that Saul may have to die for what is +the fault of Eustace!”</p> + +<p>The Duke sat very still, thinking deeply.</p> + +<p>“You hold the fault to be Eustace’s?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Bride, slowly and mournfully. “Other +causes may have helped, but Eustace set the ball rolling. +He taught Saul discontent, as he has tried to teach it to +others. He thinks that that is the first step towards +trying to make men raise themselves. As Abner truly +says, it is beginning at the wrong end; but he cannot see +that. If they would but be discontented with themselves +first—with their sinfulness, with their vices—if they +would rise higher by that repentance and cleansing which +would purify their hearts, then there would be hope for +them to rise in other ways. But to begin by stirring up +all that is most selfish and wicked, all the anger, hatred,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> +and malice, which Christ came down to destroy and overcome—ah! +how can they look for good to come? It never +will and it never can.”</p> + +<p>The Duke suddenly rose to his feet, for the clock had +chimed the hour of ten.</p> + +<p>“I must be going if I am to go,” he said. “My child, +you are your mother’s daughter. Her voice speaks to +me in yours. I will do what I can for that miserable +man, for her sake and yours.”</p> + +<p>Her face quivered as she heard these words, and she +turned away to hide her emotion. He could not have +spoken words which would more cheer her than these +which spoke of a likeness to her mother. Would she +ever be able in some small degree to take that vacant +place with him?</p> + +<p>The day seemed to pass wearily for Bride. Abner was +not in the garden. The Duke himself had sent him to +the town to try and get speech of his turbulent grandson, +and to persuade him, if it were possible, to comport +himself with due humility, and without a needless show +of defiance before the magistrates that day. None knew +better than the Duke how much harm Saul might do +to his own cause by an assumption of defiance and +impenitence before the arbiters of his fate; and none +knew better than he how little chance the young man +stood if he were once committed for trial at the County +Assizes. Although the spirit of reform was stirring all +classes of the community, the feeling against revolution +was growing stronger in England with each small outbreak—stronger, +that is, in the eyes of the governing +powers—and signal examples were made of many obscure +persons who had been concerned in turbulent risings +and riots. Once before the criminal judges of the land, +accused of arson, riot, and such-like misdemeanours, +a short shrift and a long halter were almost sure to be +his fate. All lay in the Duke’s power to avert a committal,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> +and Abner had been despatched with all speed +to seek and use his influence with the impracticable +young man, that he might not tie a rope round his +own neck by some such speeches as he had made before +Captain O’Shaughnessy.</p> + +<p>The day seemed interminably long to Bride. She +went down to the fishing-village, and spoke earnestly +with many of the men (now returned home in that state +of sheepish shame and satisfaction that betrayed the +fact of their having been engaged in some lawless but +by no means profitless undertaking) of the wickedness +of such attacks on other people’s property, and this +spoiling of other people’s goods.</p> + +<p>They listened to her grave gentle remonstrances in +silence, half ashamed of their conduct so long as her +eye was upon them, never daring in her presence to +attempt the style of argument freely indulged in alone. +There was not one of those wild rough men who would +have laid a finger on this slight gentle girl, not though +she was clad in gold and jewels, or would have +spoken a rough word or used an oath in her presence. +She and her mother had been and still were an +embodiment to them of something transcendently pure +and holy: it was the one elevating and sanctifying element +in their lives; and many a man or woman, when +the hand of death seemed about to clutch them, had sent +in haste to know whether one of the ladies from the +castle would come, feeling that in such a presence as +that even the king of terrors would be robbed of half +his power to hurt.</p> + +<p>The day drew at last to its close, and Bride stationed +herself at a window to watch for the return of her father. +She saw him at last riding slowly up the ascent, with +the servants behind him; and giving him time to alight +and reach the hall, she met him there with an eager +question on her lips.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>“Oh, papa, what have you to tell me?”</p> + +<p>“He is not committed for trial,” answered the Duke, +as he moved slowly across to his study, and sat down +wearily in his own chair. “I could not save him altogether, +and perhaps it will be well for him to taste +prison discipline after what he has been doing these +past weeks.”</p> + +<p>“Prison! Oh, is Saul in prison?”</p> + +<p>“He has been sent to jail for six months. It was +the least sentence that could well be passed upon him. +There were two on the bench almost resolved to make +a criminal case of it; but as you say, my love, my word +goes a long way yet, and Mr. Tremodart and Mr. St. +Aubyn and another clergyman were on the side of mercy. +Your story was told, and it was corroborated by Captain +O’Shaughnessy, and Saul’s previous good character and +steadiness up to the time he had been led away by +demagogues” (and a little spasm crossed the Duke’s face) +“was all in his favour. It was the first time he had +been had up—a first offence in the eyes of the law, +though there were stories of months of conduct the +reverse of satisfactory to the authorities. Still he had +dispersed the crowd last night—no one could dispute +that; and he was not proved to have been present at +the firing of the mills. The evidence on that point +was too confused and contradictory to go for anything. +He denied himself having been there, and we all believed +he spoke the truth, for he seemed almost reluctant to +admit that he had not been in the forefront of the riot. +He had been attracted to the spot by the sight of the +flames, and had consented to head a march upon my +yard. How that ended you know. There was another +ringleader who had headed the arson mob, a cobbler, a +well-known and most dangerous man. He was committed +for trial; there is no chance for him. His life<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> +will pay the forfeit of his crime; but Saul Tresithny +has escaped with six months’ imprisonment. Let us +hope that he will have time and leisure in prison to +meditate on the error of his ways and come out a better +and a wiser man.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b175.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b176.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br /> + +<i>AUTUMN DAYS</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b176d.jpg" alt="D" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">DURING the latter half of the year 1830, England +was passing through some searching experiences, +and through a crisis of her political +history. The events of these momentous years +of the Reform struggle have become by this time a matter +of history, but a very brief outline of passing events may +not be out of place for younger readers.</p> + +<p>When George IV. mounted the throne, the hopes of +the Whig party rose high. He was held to be the +champion of liberty and reform, and it was a bitter +disappointment to those who had regarded him as the +friend and pupil of Fox, to find him cast himself into +the arms of the Tory party and turn his back on former +associates. The leaven of reformed representation had +taken such hold of the nation, however, that already a +strong party existed, not in the country alone, but in +Parliament; yet the prospects of that party were at a +very low ebb, till the sudden turn brought about in the +first place by the death of the king, and secondly by the +“Three days of July” in Paris, when an arbitrary ministry, +striving to override the Chamber of Deputies and +subvert the constitution, brought about the momentous +rising in Paris which cost Charles X. his throne, and +raised Louis Philippe to be “King of the Barricades.”</p> + +<p>With the accession of William IV., the hopes of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> +Reform party rose high. The Sailor Prince, as the people +liked to call him, although he had been something of a +Tory in early life, did not stand pledged to any side in +politics, and might have the shrewdness to take warning +by the fate of his brother of France, and deem it wise +and politic to support all that was right and reasonable +in the projected scheme of reform. The champions of +the movement were Lord Grey, Lord Durham, his son-in-law, +Lord John Russell, and Lord Brougham; but the +Duke of Wellington and his cabinet were strenuously +opposed to any alteration in the existing method of Parliamentary +representation; and when Parliament met +for the first time in the new king’s reign, in October, +the premier plainly stated this opinion in his opening +speech, and with his customary boldness asserted that +not only would he introduce no measure of reform, but +he would strenuously oppose any that should be brought +before the House.</p> + +<p>It is well for a minister to have the courage of his +opinions; but from the moment of the delivery of that +speech the existing ministry became highly unpopular +throughout the country. All far-seeing men, of whatever +shade of opinion, recognised that, whether for good +or ill, the time had come when something must be done +to give the large cities and the opulent middle classes a +voice in the representation of their country. The rotten +boroughs, however desirable from a partisan point of +view, were obviously an abuse, and were doomed; the +country was in a state of ferment which threatened to +become dangerous, and the spirit shown by the Wellington +Ministry was one which was at that juncture +impossible to carry out in practical legislation. They +recognised this themselves, and resigned in November, +upon a very small and insignificant defeat, knowing that +if they did not do so then, they would only be forced later +on upon a more crucial question.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>Lord Grey was intrusted by the king with the formation +of the next ministry, and the winter months were +spent in private discussions amongst the leaders of the +Reform party as to the nature of the bill to be introduced. +Its terms were kept a profound secret till the following +March, when Lord John Russell announced them in a +densely packed and intensely excited House of Commons. +After a spirited debate the House agreed to accept the +introduction of the bill for amending the representation +without a division; but the second reading was carried +only by a majority of one, and the Government, foreseeing +that so strong a measure could never be carried +through committee with such an uncertain majority, +determined to appeal to the country, and on sustaining +a small defeat on a resolution of General Gascoigne’s, +resolved on a dissolution. The king was greatly opposed +to this, but was persuaded at last to consent to it; and to +the great joy of the reforming party all over the country, +Parliament was dissolved, and writs for a fresh election +issued.</p> + +<p>This is anticipating matters in the course of the narrative, +but it is better to give the brief abstract of the +work of Lord Grey’s ministry consecutively. As for the +terms of the new Reform Bill, they will be found in any +history of the day, and are hardly in place in the pages +of a story.</p> + +<p>These autumn days, spent by Saul Tresithny eating out +his heart in prison, but by the country at large in a state +of seething excitement and unrest, and by such men as +Eustace Marchmont in an eager canvassing amongst men +of all shades of opinion and all sorts of positions for +adherents to the new gospel of reform and emancipation, +were passed by Bride very quietly in her sea-girt home, +and by the Duke in much serious thought, and study of +the vexed questions of the day.</p> + +<p>He and his daughter, since that day when she made<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> +her appeal to him on behalf of Saul, had drawn slowly +yet surely nearer together. The change was hardly +noticeable at first, though Bride was sensible of an increased +gentleness in her father’s manner. But by +degrees he came to talk more to her of the things +working in his mind, and she began to ask questions of +him, which hitherto she had kept locked up in her own +heart. Both were the better for the outlet, and began to +look forward to the evening hour after dinner, when they +sat together in the big drawing-room and spoke of whatever +was uppermost in their minds. It was in this way +that they came to speak often about the questions of the +day, which subject led naturally to that of Eustace and +his doings and sayings. Eustace was often a great deal +in the minds both of father and daughter just then. He +wrote to the Duke regularly, though not frequently, and +his letters were always full of interesting information, +though this information was not always palatable to the +recipient, who was too old to change his attitude of mind, +and whilst striving after tolerance and a spirit of justice +and impartiality, regarded with something very much like +dread the coming strife.</p> + +<p>“Shall we invite Eustace to spend his Christmas with +us this winter?” asked the Duke of his daughter one +day towards the latter end of October.</p> + +<p>Bride glanced at her father, and her cheek crimsoned +suddenly.</p> + +<p>“If—if—you wish it, papa,” she said, with visible hesitancy.</p> + +<p>The old man glanced at her with a quick searching look.</p> + +<p>“Does that mean you would not wish it yourself?”</p> + +<p>“I—I—hardly know. I had not thought of it. Eustace +was very kind to me when he was here; but——”</p> + +<p>Again she faltered in a way that was not much like +her, and her father, watching her with a newly awakened +interest, said gently—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>“I do not wish to distress you, my dear. Perhaps +there is something in this that I do not understand. +I have no wish to force your confidence. We will say no +more about it.”</p> + +<p>But Bride rose quickly, and came and knelt down beside +her father, turning her sweet trustful face up to his.</p> + +<p>“Papa, do not speak so, please—as though I would not +tell you everything in my heart. I think I should like you +to know. I did not say anything at first—I did not know +whether Eustace might have done so or not, for he went +the very same day, and I think just when it happened I +could not have talked about it. But before he went he +told me that he loved me, and he asked me to be his wife; +but I could not, and so he went away; and I do not know +whether he will ever come back any more. That is why I do +not know what to say about asking him for Christmas.”</p> + +<p>The Duke was silent for many minutes, stroking Bride’s +soft hair with gentle fingers, and looking very thoughtfully +into her face. She knelt beside him, only thankful for +the caressing touch, which was still sufficiently infrequent +to stir her pulses and awaken a sense of indescribable +happiness.</p> + +<p>“So he asked you to be his wife, and you refused him. +What does that mean, Bride? Does it mean that you do +not like him?”</p> + +<p>“No, papa; it means that I do not love him.”</p> + +<p>The Duke paused and looked into the fire. The expression +on his face made the girl ask quickly—</p> + +<p>“You are not vexed with me for answering as I did?”</p> + +<p>“No, my child, I am not vexed. You were right to +answer according to the dictates of your own heart. And +yet, had things been a little different with Eustace, I would +gladly have seen you his wife.”</p> + +<p>A faint glow of colour stole into Bride’s face.</p> + +<p>“If things were different with Eustace,” she said very +softly, “I think perhaps I could have answered differently.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> +I think about him a great deal. I am grateful for his +love, and it hurts me to have none to give in return; but +as things now are, I cannot give it to him. He grieves +me so often. I know that he would make me miserable +if I had let his earnestness carry me away. He might +be so great, so noble, so good, but he just fails in everything; +and I think he would break my heart if I were +his wife.”</p> + +<p>The Duke looked earnestly into her earnest eyes.</p> + +<p>“It is his views that stagger you? Yes, my child, +that is what I feel about him—and them. I will not +deny that when first he came to us I had hopes that +you and he might learn to love one another. You will +never be anything but a rich woman, Bride, even though +Penarvon and its revenues must go to Eustace. You will +have your mother’s ample fortune, and everything I have +to leave independently of the estate. You will have wealth +and position; but you are very lonely. You have no near +relations, and your mother’s health made it impossible for +you to be taken to London and presented and introduced +to society. Your life has been a very solitary one, and +I have regretted it. I confess I had hopes with regard +to Eustace; but when I learnt what manner of man he +was, and how he stands pledged to a policy which I can +never approve in the abstract, though I will not deny +that some of its concrete measures are just and fair, +I began to feel differently on the subject. And you have +the same feelings, it seems, as I.”</p> + +<p>Bride slipped to a footstool at her father’s feet, and +leaned upon his knee with his hand still held in hers, and +her face turned towards the fire.</p> + +<p>“Papa,” she said, “I do not think it is Eustace’s +Radical views which repel me, except in so far as they are +bound up in those which to me are both sinful and sad. +I know that he has the welfare of this land and its +people as much at heart as you; that he loves his country<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> +and the poor in it as we love them; that he wishes to +raise and teach and make them better and happier. +I know he would spend his life and his fortune in the +cause and grudge it nothing if good could be done. +There is a great deal that I admire and love in Eustace; +but, ah! I cannot divide into two distinct parts his political +views and those other views of his which are so +integral a part of his character. To me they seem interlocked +at every point, and therefore at every point I see +something which repels me—something which I shrink +from—something which seems to me untrue and evil +in essence, even though on the surface so much may +be said for it. I do not know if you understand me. +Sometimes I scarcely understand myself—hardly know +how to put my thoughts into words; but they are there, +always with me; and the more I think, the less I can +feel that the two things can ever be altogether divided.”</p> + +<p>“What two things?” asked the Duke. “I do not +think I follow you.”</p> + +<p>“I mean, papa, the spiritual and the intellectual side +of our nature. You know we have a threefold nature—body, +soul, and spirit; but yet it is all one, and I think +people make a great mistake when they seek to try and +divide the physical and the intellectual from the spiritual. +Eustace does—in practice, if not in theory. He wishes to +gain for the poor an improved condition of bodily comfort, +and I am sure this is a kindly and a right wish. He +has told me things that make my blood curdle about the +awful misery and want reigning in many places. He +wants to raise men intellectually, to think for themselves, +to learn many things which will help in their advancement, +to strive after a better standard, and to be disgusted +at their present ignorance and degradation. But having +done that, he stops short. He has no wish to quicken in +their spirits the love of God, which would purify these +other desires and hold in check the baser passions they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> +so often arouse without that curb. Of their spirits he +takes no heed—how should he, when he does not even +admit that there is an inner and spiritual life—when he +is content to remain in ignorance of everything beyond +the limits of his own understanding, and to assert that +nothing can be positively taught as truth which cannot +be proved by the finite intellect of man? I may not +put his case quite justly, because he does not speak of +these things openly to me. He tries to pass them over +in vague words, and keep the talk to ‘practical matters.’ +But I have heard enough to know what he does think—to +know that he has no faith in the Crucified Saviour—in +an Incarnate God—in a Sanctifying Spirit; and without +that faith, how can he hope to lead men aright? +Ah! he will never do it!”</p> + +<p>The Duke looked down at the girl’s face seen in +profile as she half raised it towards him, and he marvelled +at her, yet traced in her words the outcome of +her mother’s teaching, and felt as though his wife were +speaking to him through the lips of her daughter. He +had always regarded his wife as something of a saint +or angel—recognising in her deep spirituality a calibre +of mind altogether different from his own, and in her +faith, intense and vivid, a something vastly different +from his own dry orthodoxy. He had often listened to +her in wonder and amaze, half lifted up by her earnestness, +half shrinking from following her into regions so +strangely unfamiliar; but there was in Bride’s line of +argument a thread of practical common-sense which +aroused in him a curiosity to know more of her mind, +and he said tentatively—</p> + +<p>“You mean that you do not believe even in political +reform unless it is based on the highest spiritual +motives?”</p> + +<p>“I think I mean,” answered Bride thoughtfully, +“that I do not believe there <i>can</i> be any true reform<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> +at all that does not come from a spiritual impulse. +How can I say it best? Eustace is fond of quoting +the Bible to me. He bids me remember that we are +called upon by Christ to love our neighbours as ourself, +and goes on to point out that he is trying to +work upon that principle. But he forgets that we are +<i>first</i> bidden to love God with all our soul and mind +and strength, and that the brotherly love is the outcome, +the corollary of the love to God which should be +the leading thought of our whole life.”</p> + +<p>“Yes!—and what do you deduce from that?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, papa, can you not see? Look what those men +are doing who think that they can love their brothers +and do them good without loving God first and best! +Look what Eustace has done!—stirred up strife and +discontent all round the country, landed poor Saul in +a prison, provoked deeds of violence, lawlessness, and +reckless wickedness—deeds that he himself would be +the first to deplore and condemn, yet which are the +direct outcome of his teaching. These men love their +brothers, yet they stir up class hatred wherever they +go—and why? It is because they forget that love of +God <i>must</i> come first if any good is to come; it is +because, though they themselves love their fellows, they +cannot teach love of mankind to these more ignorant +men whom they would lead. When men do not understand +the sweetness of obedience to the perfect law of +God, how can they ever be taught the duty of obedience +to the imperfect law of man?—and yet we know that +obedience to law—even when that law is sadly imperfect—is +God’s will and ordinance, and that it brings its +blessing with it. Oh, if men would go about teaching +the people to love God with all their heart and soul +and strength, to love each other in the bond of unity +and peace, and to <i>pray</i> for their rulers and governors, +that God would turn their hearts from all thought of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> +oppression and tyranny, and make them to be just and +merciful rulers of the people, then indeed might our +land become a country blessed by God and relieved from +the burden of her woes! If great and small would look +to God for His guidance in all things, and cease warring +with each other in anger and jealous hate, then would +true reform begin. But when the cleverest, and often +the most earnest men of the day leave God out of their +thoughts and plans, and smile at the thought of working +through the power of His name, then what can we +expect but confusion and anarchy, and a slowly growing +discontent amongst the people, which will lead at +last to some terrible end? Eustace says that this movement +is but the beginning of a huge wave that will +sweep right over the country, and end by making the +people—the masses—the rulers of the world. He looks +upon that as an era of universal good to all—a Utopia, +as he calls it—which is to supersede everything that has +gone before—including Christianity itself—in its perfection +of all human systems and the development of +his gospel, ‘the greatest good to the greatest number.’ +But though I think it will come—I think we can see +that in the prophetic words of Scripture about the +latter days—I fear it will come with more fearful misery +and terror and tyranny than anything that has gone +before. It is the men who practically refuse Christ—the +Incarnate Son of God—though they may use the +name of Christ still for an abstraction of their own, +who will welcome the Antichrist coming in his own +name. I think men <i>do</i> welcome any leader now who +comes in his own name, and almost makes himself a +god. Was it not so with Napoleon Buonaparte, whom +some almost believed to be the Antichrist himself? It +is those who come to them in the name of God whom +they will not hear; for if they look to God as the Head, +they must keep His laws; and men who are striving<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> +after bringing about this new era of happiness on the +earth, do not want to do that. They like their own +ways best.”</p> + +<p>There was a long silence after this. Bride had paused +many times for her father to speak, and had then gone +on with her train of musing, almost forgetting she had +an auditor. After a prolonged pause, the Duke said +slowly—</p> + +<p>“So this is why you could not bring yourself to marry +Eustace?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she answered softly; “I do not think there +could be happiness for us, thinking so differently. He +thinks now that he could give up everything for my sake—but +I know him better than he knows himself. Besides, +I would not wish him to give up anything for <i>my</i> sake; +if he gives it up, it must be because he knows and +feels it to be contrary to the law of God—and I do not +think such an idea as that has ever entered into his +head.”</p> + +<p>“Yet if you could get him to give up some of his wild +notions for love of you, it would be a step in the right +direction,” said the Duke thoughtfully; but Bride shook +her head.</p> + +<p>“No, not in the right direction—it would be doing evil +that good might come—teaching Eustace to act against +his conscience and better judgment, just to please me. +It would be like what he is doing himself when he stirs +up the evil passions of men to try and overthrow a great +abuse. He admits the present evil, but says the end +will justify the means, and that the evil is an incidental +detail, whilst the good will remain permanent. That is +where we cannot agree. And we are not likely to agree +when Eustace really admits no outward standard of right +and wrong, but abides by his own judgment and the +prompting of his individual conscience. And even what +he cannot defend he excuses—his conscience condemns,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> +but his judgment palliates the wrong—and there is nothing +stronger and more perfect and holy to which to appeal. +That is the most terrible thing of all to me, and, oh! how +terrible it must be in the sight of God.”</p> + +<p>Bride had Eustace very much on her mind and heart +just now. She had promised to pray for him, and she did +this with increasing earnestness as the days went by. +She prayed too for the unhappy Saul, wearing out his +weary term of imprisonment, visited from time to time +by Abner, who looked years older ever since the trouble +of that August night. He brought back disquieting +accounts of the prisoner to his young mistress, who never +failed to ask after him. Saul was utterly impenitent and +hardened. He had thrown off all semblance of outward +faith, and was an open advocate of the very darkest and +baldest forms of atheism. He had learnt this fearful +creed from the cobbler, by this time lying under sentence +of death; but Bride recognised with a shudder now and +again, as she talked with Abner and heard his sorrowful +accounts of Saul’s words, the influence upon him of +Eustace’s more subtle scepticism. Here and there a word +or phrase came in where she recognised her cousin’s mind. +Doubtless Saul had opened his heart on this point too +with his master, and Eustace had probably only confirmed +him in his unbelief by his assertions of the impossibility of +knowing the truth where all thinking men were at variance.</p> + +<p>The thought of these two men haunted her with a persistence +that was wearying. She was haunted too by +thoughts of that condemned criminal in his lonely cell, +dying perhaps in utter blackness and infidelity, and passing +out into the presence of his Maker without one thought +of repentance or submission. Suppose Saul had been +called upon to die, would he too have gone forth in that +frame of mind? If illness or accident were to smite +down Eustace, what would be his method of meeting +death? Would they all reject the love of the Saviour?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> +Would they all remain impenitent to the last? And +what, ah! what was the fate of those who passed away +without one cry for mercy, without one glance towards +that Cross whereon the sins of the whole world had been +expiated?</p> + +<p>This thought became such a terror to her, that she +took it at last to her one friend and confidante, Mrs. +St. Aubyn, and she had hardly got out her trouble +before the Rector himself, unknowing of her visit, entered +his wife’s room; and Bride hardly knew whether +she were glad or sorry that the question should be referred +to him.</p> + +<p>It was Mrs. St. Aubyn who told her husband the nature +of their talk, and added, as she did so—</p> + +<p>“I was going to say that I myself almost doubted +whether any human soul could die absolutely and entirely +impenitent. We know that the outward aspect of some +remains unchanged to the last; but how can any man +dare to deny that some strange and mysterious intercourse +may not go on in spirit between man and his +Maker, unknown and unseen by any human eye? Thought +cannot be measured by our time. A few brief seconds +may be enough to establish some sort of spiritual communication. +Where we are told so little, perhaps it is +not wise to speculate too curiously; but I cannot help +thinking that where blind ignorance and the doctrine +of false teachers has kept a soul away from God, He +may yet in His infinite mercy deal with that erring soul +at the last in such a way as to break in upon the darkness, +and kindle one ray of the Divine love, even with the +dying breath. For we know that it is not the will of +the Father that one should perish, and that He gave +His Son to die for all—only they must approach Him +through the living Saviour.”</p> + +<p>She looked at her husband as she spoke, and he smiled +in response as he said—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>“There are mysteries in God’s dealings with man into +which we may not too closely look, and especially is this +the case in reference to those departed or departing this +life; but there is so much that we <i>do</i> know to cheer and +encourage us to hope all things and believe all things, +that we may well let our minds dwell upon these things, +and argue from them that God’s ways are wider and +more merciful than the heart of man can fathom.”</p> + +<p>“Bride is unhappy about several persons who seem +to be wandering so far away from the fold,” said Mrs. +St. Aubyn, in her gentle tones. “She is suffering, as +we all suffer at some time or another, when those we +love seem rather against than with us. Can you say +something to comfort her? I think she has come here +for a little bit of comfort. Have you not, my child?”</p> + +<p>Bride’s soft eyes swam in tears. She was rather +unhinged by her own intensity of thought. The motherly +words almost broke her down. Mrs. St. Aubyn took +her hand and caressed it gently. The clergyman, after +a moment of silence, spoke, in his thoughtful tender +fashion—</p> + +<p>“Yes, we have so much cause for hope, even for +those who have gone far, far astray. We must not +think of them as sundered from the love of the Father, +for we know that He does not so regard them, even +though His heart may be full of pain at the thought +of their transgressions and neglect. We have such +beautiful lessons set before us by our Lord, who knew +the heart of the Father as none of us can know it. +Let us think, just for one minute, of that wonderful +story of the prodigal son.”</p> + +<p>Bride raised her face quickly.</p> + +<p>“He repented,” she said softly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. St. Aubyn, “he had been full of self-will +and folly. He had gone very far from the father’s +house, and the place which was his there by the father’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> +wish. He was in a far country. He had squandered +the gifts of a loving father—the talents, the faculties, +the opportunities—upon unworthy and sinful objects. +He had followed the dictates of his own heart, and had +not heeded his father’s loving counsel and admonitions; +and at the last he was reduced to husks, those unsubstantial +and empty husks which are in the end all that is left +to us of a life of worldly pleasure, take what form it will +at the outset. Only the husks remained, and the hunger +of the soul set in, which is the worst hunger of all to bear. +When that stage has been reached, the backward glance +to the father’s house becomes inevitable. The young man +in the far country felt it; and I think there was much +more than the mere craving for physical comforts in the +resolve which was embodied in the words, ‘I will arise and +go to my father.’ There is much more than that in those +words of penitence, followed up by the resolve to ask, +‘Make me as one of thy hired servants.’ That was what +the son set out to say—‘make me as one of thy hired +servants;’ but when he reached his father he could not +say it. Why not?”</p> + +<p>Bride was silent. The tears were still in her eyes. +Mr. St. Aubyn looked at her, looked at his wife, and then +went on softly—</p> + +<p>“He could not say it because he was ashamed to say it—because +the love of his father, the love which was watching +for him after all these years of absence, which went +out to meet him whilst he was yet a great way off, which +wrapped him round in its embrace in that mysterious +fulness of fatherhood, shamed him into silence. He +could confess his sins and his unworthiness; perhaps at +no moment had he ever felt so utterly humiliated, yet +he could not say ‘make me as one of thy hired servants’—the +father’s love had taught him his place as a son; the +father’s love had broken down the last barrier of reserve. +Unworthy, humbled to the dust, broken down by his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> +emotion, he yet knew that it was as a son he was received +back; and the deep unchanging love of the father <i>shamed</i> +him, I say, from trying to seek the lower place. When +God gives us the right to call ourselves sons, is it for us +to say, ‘Nay, Lord, but let me be as a hired servant?’ +Is that the humility that the Lord asks of us? Is that +the truest faith?”</p> + +<p>Still Bride was silent, and as if in answer to her unspoken +thought, Mr. St. Aubyn continued—</p> + +<p>“Thank God it is given to some of us to remain ever in +the Father’s house. We have not been tempted to stray +from it. We live in His love, and seek every day to do +Him service. But there is always the peril to us of looking +abroad at our brothers who have wandered away, and of +asking ourselves, sometimes in tender anxiety, sometimes +with a sense of compassionate disfavour, sometimes perhaps +in something too nearly approaching scorn, whether +for them there can ever be a return to the Father’s house, +whether they will ever be worthy to be received there +once more, even if they do return; and there are not +lacking those amongst us, I fear, who would sometimes, +consciously or unconsciously, deny them their place in the +home, judging them to have lost it for ever through disobedience +and rebellion.”</p> + +<p>Bride clasped her hands together, her soft eyes shining.</p> + +<p>“Oh, go on,” she said softly; “tell me the rest.”</p> + +<p>“It has been told already, my child, told in the reception +of the erring son, not as a stranger or a servant, +but as a son. The love of the Father transcends our love +for our brethren, as much as did the father’s love transcend +that of the jealous elder son. It is not for us to +despair for the wanderers, for the Father does not despair +of them. He watches for them, and when their faint and +lagging footsteps are homeward turned, irresolutely perhaps, +fearfully perhaps, despondently perhaps, while they +are a great way off he goes Himself to meet them. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> +sends no servant; He sends no brother even; He goes +Himself. And then, when the lost son feels the Father’s +arms about his neck, hears the Father’s voice speaking +in his ear, the faint and fearful love of his heart is turned +to a deep stream of true filial devotion, and he knows +himself in all his abasement and humility for a son, and +the first word he speaks, amidst his tears, is the word +‘Father.’ And after that word is spoken there can be +no talk of being a hired servant. Father!—our Father—that +is the essence of Christ’s redeeming work on earth.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said Bride, drawing a long breath; “I +think you have given me comfort. I was too much like +the elder brother, too much inclined to despair of those +who had strayed away. I will think of them differently +now. Surely they will one day turn back to the home +again.”</p> + +<p>“I trust so; we can at least pray that it may be so. +Prayer is the strongest power there is for leading men +back to God; and I often think and note that, when He +would draw to Himself an erring son who will not pray +for himself, He puts it into the heart of a brother or a +sister to pray for him, and so the erring one is drawn +back towards the Father’s house.”</p> + +<p>Bride’s face quivered as she held out her hand in farewell, +but she went home greatly comforted.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b192.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b193.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII<br /> + +<i>TWO ENCOUNTERS</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b111b.jpg" alt="B" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">BRIDE was riding slowly down the hill from +St. Erme’s on her little Exmoor pony, with +a grave and sorrowful face. Around her the +green billowy downs stretched away in all +their bright spring greenness, overhead the larks were +carolling as though their hearts were filled with rapture, +whilst far below the sea tossed and sparkled in the brilliant +sunshine in a fashion that was exhilarating and gladsome.</p> + +<p>It was a day late on in March—one of those days not +unfrequent at that season, especially in the south and +west—a day that seems filled with a promise of coming +summer—a day in which all nature rejoices, which stirs +the pulses and sets the blood coursing joyously, and fills +the air with subtle promises of life and hope.</p> + +<p>Bride’s face had been tranquil and happy as she rode +up the heights towards Farmer Teazel’s farm, but it was +sorrowful and troubled now as she returned, for she had +failed in the mission on which she had been bound, and +was experiencing one of those revulsions of feeling which +often follow upon a period of solitary meditation and +resolve, when the dreamer is brought face to face with +the stern realities of human life and human nature.</p> + +<p>Bride’s mission to the farm had been to plead with the +farmer to offer a place in his service to Saul Tresithny,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> +now just out of prison. His sentence had been up a few +weeks earlier, but he had been ill of fever in the prison +hospital when the period of release came, and had only +that week been set at liberty.</p> + +<p>All through the term of his imprisonment Bride’s +thoughts and her prayers had been much exercised with +him. The compassion she felt towards him partook of the +nature of a great yearning tenderness, curious in a girl +of her age and station, and she could not help believing +that her feelings must be in some sort reflected in the +minds of others. Her father she knew felt compassion +for Saul, though he seldom spoke his name. Abner, as +was natural, yearned over his grandson with a great love +and tenderness, and both Mr. Tremodart and Mr. St. Aubyn +were interested in him, and were willing to give him occupation +in their service on his release, if he would accept it. +But Saul’s known aversion to service in any of its branches +was too well known in the place for any one to have much +hope of his falling in with either of these offers. Abner +shook his head whenever he was questioned on the subject, +and said he feared Saul had not changed or softened +with his incarceration. But the thought came to Bride +that if his old master the farmer, with whom he had always +got on so well, would offer him his old place at the farm, +that offer would be accepted, and she had gone up to +talk poor Saul’s case over with the kind-hearted yeoman, +and get him to see the matter in the light that she herself +viewed it.</p> + +<p>But only disappointment and sorrowful surprise awaited +her here. Farmer Teazel <i>was</i> a thoroughly kind-hearted +man, and very fond indeed of the little Lady Bride, whom +he had known ever since her infancy. He loved to see +her riding up to his farm on the pony of his own breeding +and choosing. He was all smiles and kindness till her +subject was broached, and then she found that there was +a limit to his benevolence, and to the influence she had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> +over him—a barrier like a ledge of hard rock against +which her arguments rebounded helplessly.</p> + +<p>Saul Tresithny had sinned in a fashion the farmer +could not forgive, and he had no pity upon misfortune +deliberately run into by a man who has had every +opportunity of knowing better. The fact that Saul had +averted the attack upon his own homestead did not weigh +with him here. He argued that Saul had had his revenge +on his (the farmer’s) machines before this. The sturdy +yeoman had his own grievance against Saul and his +teaching, and was not disposed to be grateful for the +other deliverance. No, Saul was a reprobate and a +jail-bird, and he would have none of him. He had had +enough of the mischief his tongue did before. It wasn’t +in reason he should put up with it again. No, no; he +was sorry to refuse Lady Bride anything; but ladies did +not understand these things—did not understand the +nature of great, ill-conditioned demi-gods (as he called +it in his haste) such as Saul had become. It was no use +talking to him of forgiveness and mercy. It would be +time enough for that when the man had repented. He +hadn’t ever learned that there was any call to forgive +before the sinner was sorry. From all he heard, Saul +wasn’t a bit humbled or penitent. It would only be +the old trouble over again if he came back; the farmer +would take care he had nothing more to do with such a +fellow.</p> + +<p>When Bride had exhausted her eloquence upon the +farmer, and he had gone out to his work again, she tried +what she could do with the daughter; but Genefer was +even more impracticable than her father. Half ashamed of +ever having given encouragement to Saul, who had behaved +so cavalierly to her afterwards, she was bitterly set against +him, and did not pick her words when launching forth +about him. Moreover, Genefer was now openly betrothed +in marriage to young Farmer Hewett, and was mortally<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> +afraid lest he should ever hear that she had permitted +Saul to make love to her. She would not for anything in +the world have had him again at the farm, and Bride was +forced to ride away downcast and sorrowful, wondering +in her heart how it was that people of the same class +were so hard upon one another, and musing by degrees +on the result to the community of a gradual change +which should practically throw the governing power into +the hands of the masses. Would that power be exercised +on the side of mercy and love, or would it become only +a new form of tyranny and hardness, far more difficult to +modify and soften than any monarchical harshness of +rule? It was a question she could not answer, but it +helped to keep her face grave and her brow sad as +she rode slowly down the hill, rode right down by the +rough lane to the cottages upon the shore, where she had +an errand of mercy to perform; and leaving her pony +to nibble at the salt herbage at the base of the rocks, as +he loved to do, she walked forward alone towards the +margin of the sea, and came suddenly and quite unexpectedly +face to face with Saul Tresithny, who was +sitting in the hot sunshine on a rock, and gazing out +over the sea, with those strange dark eyes of his that +gleamed with sombre fire.</p> + +<p>She knew that he was free, but thought him still at +Pentreath, he having refused to come to his grandfather’s +cottage on his release. The recognition was mutual, and +the man instinctively, though sullenly, rose to his feet. +Bride glanced up at the tall towering figure, which looked +taller than before in the gauntness of recent illness. +There was something rather terrible in the gloom of the +cadaverous face. Saul had been stricken down with that +terrible fever which was so common in prisons during the +previous century, and went by the significant name of +jail-fever, and which still lingered about those prisons +which were overcrowded or unsanitary, and generally<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> +claimed for its victims those who were unused to confinement +and a close atmosphere, and had led an open-air +life hitherto.</p> + +<p>The terrible sufferings Saul had endured during six +months of imprisonment were too clearly written on his +face to evade observation. What such incarceration +meant to one of his nature and training can only be +realised by those who have lived the life he had hitherto +led, and have been out in the open air from dawn till +dark every day of their lives, summer and winter, from +boyhood. Bride shrank back as she saw his face, with +a sense akin almost to terror; but then her sense of +Divine compassion and tenderness for the wild impenitent +prisoner came back with a bound, and she put out her +little gloved hand and laid it on his arm.</p> + +<p>“Saul, I have been so sorry for you, so very sorry,” +she said, softly and gently. “But it is over now, and +you have life still before you. You will learn to——”</p> + +<p>“To forget? never!” interrupted he, with a strange +flash in his eyes. “I will never forget, ay! and never +forgive, to the end of my days. Stacked like pigs in a +stye, crowded together in hunger and dirt, and wretchedness +unspeakable, the best man amongst them hanged by +the neck till he died, and all for preaching the gospel of +truth to a down-trodden people, that is what England +has to look for from her rulers! That is what we have +to look forward to who strive to raise our brothers from +abject misery and degradation. Forget! No, I will never +forget. I will avenge those months of misery, and the death +of my best and truest friend; ay! I <i>will</i> avenge it on the +proud heads of the tyrants of this land. Don’t come near +me, don’t speak to me, Lady Bride. I would not hurt you +willingly; but there is that within me that may prompt +me to do you a mischief if you stand there much longer. +Go, I say, go! You are a woman; I believe you are a good +and a merciful woman; but you come of a race that is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> +doomed. Go, let me never see you here again! Look to +yourself, and let your father look to himself, for they +have made a Cain and an Ishmaelite of me; and I will +be in very truth what they have made me. I will give +them cause to tremble!”</p> + +<p>But Bride looked at him with quiet fearlessness, sorrowful, +yet not afraid. That the fever and weakness, +combined with long months of brooding and suffering, +had partially clouded his brain, she could well understand. +His threats did not alarm her. She knew he +would never lay a finger upon her.</p> + +<p>“I am very grieved for you, Saul,” she said again. “It +has been very hard to bear, and the more so because all +the while you believed you were doing right. That is +what is so hard to understand in this world—how to +do right without doing wrong too; and there is only +one Power that can help us to know that. I hope +some day you will learn to know that Power, and see +with unclouded eyes. Meantime, if you will let me, I +should like to help you and to be your friend. I think +you know that you may trust me, even though you may +not be able to help hating me.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her with a strange expression in his +hollow eyes that sometimes burned so brightly, and sometimes +were clouded over with a mist of bewilderment +and semi-delirious imaginings. He looked at her as +though about to speak, but then suddenly closing his +lips, he turned hastily away and walked rapidly, though +a little unsteadily, in the opposite direction; whilst a +woman from a neighbouring cottage came hurrying out, +and Bride saw that Mother Clat was approaching.</p> + +<p>“’Tidden wise o’ yu tu talk wi’ yon lad out heer alone, +Laady Bride. He be maazed wi’ t’ prison vever, he be,” +she said anxiously, with a backward glance over her +shoulder at the retiring figure of Saul. “Duee go tu +home now, and letten ’lone tu coom tu hisself. Yu’ll on’y<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> +be aggin’ he on to du wusser ef zo be as yu try to talk +un zoft.”</p> + +<p>“I am very sorry for him. He looks very ill,” said +Bride compassionately. “Do you know where he is +living now?”</p> + +<p>“He du be bidin’ wi’ me these past tu daays,” answered +the woman; “I wunt zay how long he’ll bide. He’s gotten +zome money, an’ he’s a rare hand wi’ th’ bwoats. I reckon +he can maake a shift to live down along wi’ we, ef zo be as +he’s got a mind tu.”</p> + +<p>“Take care of him, then,” said Bride pleadingly. “I +think he wants care and good food whilst he looks +so thin and gaunt. Give him all you think he needs, +and I will take care you are no loser. Don’t say a +word to him, but just let me know. See, I will leave +this crown with you now. Get him everything he ought +to have. I never saw anybody so dreadfully changed +before.”</p> + +<p>The woman took the coin and nodded. She was +perfectly to be trusted, despite the peculiarity of her +position in St. Bride as the known ally of smugglers, +and the cleverest hider and concealer of contraband goods +in the place. Bride perfectly recognised the distinction +between general dishonesty and this particular sin, so +common in those days amongst men otherwise upright +and trustworthy. She left the bay a little comforted by +learning that Saul had at least a roof over his head, +and was amongst men who liked and trusted him. +Mother Clat was, with all her witch-like aspect and rough +speech, a kind-hearted woman, and would do her best +for her lodger. Saul was better here by the salt sea waves +than in some poor lodging in Pentreath. Evidently the +death of the cobbler and the scattering of the little band +of malcontents had for the time shattered his dream of +becoming a semi-professional agitator. The fascination +of the blue sea, the boundless sky, and the tossing salt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> +waves had drawn him back to St. Bride’s. If only some +gentler influence could be brought to bear upon him, +he might yet become a changed character with patience +and time.</p> + +<p>“If Eustace could see his pupil now, what would he +think?” questioned the girl to herself, as she rode up the +rough beach path; and she wondered to herself whether +his influence, could it be brought to bear, would be for +good or for ill—though this seemed but idle speculation, +as Eustace was far away in London, and she did not +think he would visit Penarvon for long enough to come. +Musing thus, she turned in at the lodge gate and rode +quietly up the zigzag track through the pine wood, till, +arriving at the point where the road divided, she took +the right-hand fork and rode direct to the stable-yard, +and three minutes later reined in her pony in the big +enclosure, a groom coming forward to assist her to dismount.</p> + +<p>Three strange horses stood tied up in the yard, looking +as though they had been ridden somewhat hard that day. +Stablemen were grooming them down with assiduity, the +head-coachman looking on and making remarks from time +to time to his subordinates. As he saw his young mistress +he came respectfully forward.</p> + +<p>“Has some visitor arrived?” she asked, with a glance +at the strange horses; but there was no need for the +man to answer. At that moment a tall figure entered +the yard through the door of the covered way leading +from stable-yard to house—entered hurriedly, as though +to give some forgotten order, and Bride found herself +face to face with her cousin Eustace.</p> + +<p>They both started slightly, but Bride recovered herself +immediately, and quietly offered her hand.</p> + +<p>“This is an unlooked-for pleasure,” she said gently; +and his face flushed from brow to chin beneath the +bronze of the sunny journey in March shine and blow.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>“Thank you,” he answered, pressing her hand gratefully; +and then, turning for a moment to the coachman, +he gave the instruction in reference to his horse which +he had come to deliver. That done, he turned once more +to Bride and said—</p> + +<p>“Your father is not within—he has ridden out too. +I thought I should have to wait for any welcome. I +trust that I have not taken an unwarrantable liberty in +coming thus unannounced, but I have news that I thought +would interest the Duke, and it is necessary that I should +have personal speech with him.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure my father will bid you welcome to Penarvon,” +answered Bride, with gentle dignity. “I trust +the news that you bring is good and not bad.”</p> + +<p>“I trust so myself. It is news that cannot fail to +stir all hearts more or less at such a time. Parliament +is dissolved. There is to be a new appeal to the electors +of the country!”</p> + +<p>Bride paused to look at her cousin’s face, which was +full of an enthusiasm and glad hopefulness that was almost +infectious. Instead of taking the covered way back to +the castle, the cousins were slowly following the longer road +by which horses and carriages travelled. Bride caught +her long skirt up with one hand, the other held her whip. +Her face was flushed with the surprise of this second +unlooked-for encounter. Eustace thought he had never +seen her look more lovely than at this moment, in the +close-fitting habit and picturesque hat with its waving +plume.</p> + +<p>“A dissolution!” she exclaimed; “I thought the king +was altogether averse to that. I thought your bill had +just achieved its second triumph.”</p> + +<p>“It has, and it has not. The papers have kept you +conversant with the bald facts of the case. But what +it comes to is this, that without a more powerful majority +than we have now, such a measure as ours cannot be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> +successfully passed through the House. It would be so +mauled and mutilated in committee that it would utterly +fall to pieces. We must know now what the country +feels on this great question. We must feel the pulse of +the nation. It is the only thing to do. The king was +against the measure; but the voice of wisdom prevailed. +As soon as his consent was gained, I took horse and +started off. I wished to be the first to bring the news +to Penarvon. Tell me, Bride, what have these six +months done for my uncle in modifying or changing +his views on this question? He now knows the just +and moderate terms of the bill. Does he feel against +it all the same prejudice he did at the outset, when +we none of us knew exactly on what lines it had been +framed?”</p> + +<p>“I do not think he feels any very great hostility to +the present bill,” answered Bride quietly. “He has +fully recognised that there are abuses with regard to +the representation of the country that may well be +mended, and on the whole I think he admits the present +measure to be moderate and wise. But he knows as well +as you know that this is only the beginning, and whilst +you approve heart and soul the movement of which it +is the pioneer, he distrusts and dreads it. That is why +the success of even a wise measure fills him with no +enthusiasm. He still believes that the abuses which +will grow up under your new régime, when it is established, +will far transcend those which flourish under +the old, and that sin and want and misery will increase +rather than diminish. That is as much as I can tell +you of his opinions, for he does not talk of this thing +often. The subject is rather a painful one to him. It +brings with it a sense of helplessness, a sense of drifting +away from the old moorings into a troubled sea +for which he has no chart or compass. I think he +knows that the thing must be; but he does not look<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> +forward with joy to the future it will bring in its +wake.”</p> + +<p>“At his age that is perhaps natural,” answered +Eustace. “He is a more liberal-minded man than +many of his generation and position. I am thankful +he is not bitter in opposition, for I shall want something +from him that he might be very loth to give did +he feel as some do.”</p> + +<p>Bride turned to look at him. Eustace was flushed +and excited. His face had grown more intent and +earnest during the past months. Bride thought that +his expression was improved; but just at this moment +he was more excited than she had ever seen him before. +She wondered at the reason.</p> + +<p>“I have come to ask a favour of your father, Bride,” +he said, as they reached the castle, and instead of passing +through the gateway and entering the hall, skirted +round the building till they stood upon the magnificent +stone terrace that overhung the sea on the west side. +“Do you think he will grant it me?”</p> + +<p>“A favour!—what favour?” asked Bride, looking wonderingly +at him, with steady fearlessness in her eyes. +She was no longer shy with him, for her instinct told +her that it was not on an errand of love-making that +he had come. The last time they talked together alone +he had been seeking for her love; now he had other +matters foremost in his mind. The individual was sunk +in the cause. Almost before the words of his answer +were spoken, she guessed what they would be; yet she +heard them almost with surprise.</p> + +<p>“Bride, this next Parliament will be one that will +mark an epoch in the world’s history; I feel that I +must take my share in it. I am a man young and +untried, but I feel that I can serve my country in its +need. I long to be one of its legislators in the coming +struggle, which will, I know, be a triumphant one. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> +have come to ask your father for the seat which he +has in his own hands. He almost offered it to me +once. Will he give it to me now, do you think, when I +come to solicit it at his hands?”</p> + +<p>Bride’s eyes expressed a grave surprise.</p> + +<p>“A pocket borough, as you have called them, Eustace? +I thought the system of pocket boroughs was utterly +abhorrent to you—one of the abuses which most cried +for redress!”</p> + +<p>“Yes—and I long to be one of the legislators who +shall abolish the abuse!” cried Eustace eagerly. “I +would sweep all such anomalies from the face of the +earth; but to assist in the battle with all my powers, +I must be entitled for once to sit in the next Parliament.”</p> + +<p>Bride said nothing. She looked away from Eustace +over the sea, and he saw that a shadow had fallen on +her face.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Bride?” he questioned quickly, feeling +the sense of her beauty and purity again stealing over +him like a charm. He had fancied after all these months +that he could meet her without emotion, but already he +felt the old fascination creeping over him.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry,” answered Bride gently, “I am sorry—that +is all.”</p> + +<p>“Sorry about what?” he asked quickly.</p> + +<p>“Sorry that you feel like that—that you can stoop to +such a thing.”</p> + +<p>He started as though something had stung him.</p> + +<p>“I do not understand you,” he said, with a certain +hauteur in his tone and a look of pain in his eyes.</p> + +<p>She raised hers to his and looked him full in the +face.</p> + +<p>“It is not difficult to understand. You look on +these pocket boroughs as a flagrant abuse, and yet you +are willing to profit by that abuse. It is just the old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> +story over again. You are willing to do evil that good +may come, Eustace. I do not think that good ever +does come when men have stooped to employ unworthy +means. Take care you do not ruin your own cause by +making that mistake all through.”</p> + +<p>Yes, it was the same girl he had left—the same Bride—the +mystic, the impracticable woman of dreams and +theories. Beautiful ideals are so plausible till you come +to try and apply them to the sordid realities of life—and +then how untenable they become! But how was +she to know that, living in this old-world spot and in +a dreamland of her own? So he stifled his irritation +and answered very patiently—</p> + +<p>“You hardly understand, Bride. Your father will have +to nominate a member at this election, though probably +for the last time. The abuse is yet unredressed, and +cannot be redressed till honest men who love their country +combine to blot it out. I wish to have the honour +and privilege of being among that number; and I am +your father’s next of kin, and the man it would be most +natural for him to appoint. It lies here; he must either +give it to a man who would fight against the good cause, +though he would accept the seat without a qualm, or it +must go to one like myself, who, recognising the thing +as a manifest outrage upon constitutional representation, +yet for this last time would take advantage of a pernicious +system in order to hurl it down for ever more. I hold +that mine is the right position to hold. If I were to +stand aside for a man who would take the seat and strive +to hold back the cause of reform, I should be a traitor to +the cause and to my country. I ought not to stand idly +by without striving to win it for myself.”</p> + +<p>She made no reply; but her silence was not the silence +of assent, and he knew it. He took one or two turns +upon the terrace and then said—</p> + +<p>“Why do you always try to take the heart out of me,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> +Bride? I never speak with you, but it is always the +same old story. You look like one of God’s angels from +heaven; you talk like a veritable saint upon earth; +and yet you stand there as it were opposed to every +effort to raise and bless and benefit humanity—a +champion for what is tyrannous and oppressive and +hateful!”</p> + +<p>It was not often that Eustace was carried away by his +ardour in this fashion; but the excitement through which +he had recently been passing had somewhat shaken and +unnerved him. Bride looked away from him and out over +the sea with one of those intense gazes of hers which +calmed him better than any words could have done. +He came up and took her hand, which she did not withdraw +from his clasp.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” he said; “I spoke like a brute. I +did not know what I was saying. But, O Bride! why +will not you and such as you help us? Why will +you stand aloof with pitying scorn when the world +and humanity are crying aloud for your sympathy and +help?”</p> + +<p>“Not scorn,” answered Bride gently, “not scorn; but +pity—yes. I often do feel pity for you, Eustace, because +I know that you will be so bitterly disappointed. You want +to make men better and happier and more prosperous; +and more prosperous you may make them by improved +legislation. Many will be content when that is done, +but you will not. Your aim goes higher. You want to +see them raised out of their degradation—to see them +ennobled and made truly better. And you will be so +bitterly disappointed! I know you will; and I pity you +often from the bottom of my heart; but indeed I do not +scorn you. I know you—and—love you far too much for +that.”</p> + +<p>She spoke with quiet fearlessness, and used the word +in an impersonal sense that Eustace could not misunderstand.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> +He bent forward and lifted the hand he held to +his lips, and she did not shrink away, for it was not the +action of a lover, and she felt it and was not afraid. Nor +was the salute in itself altogether obsolete in those days, +though growing rarer and rarer.</p> + +<p>“You shall teach me the knowledge in which I am +lacking,” he said ardently; but she slightly shook her +head.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid not, Eustace; I am afraid the task +would be too hard. You cannot see with my eyes, nor +I with yours. You think all the way through that the +end justifies the means. I hold that no lasting good can +be, or ever has been done when unworthy and time-serving +means have been employed. A man must be pure +in heart before he can successfully fight the good fight +against evil.”</p> + +<p>“You mean that I must give up hoping to sit in Parliament?” +said Eustace hotly, unable to help applying the +doctrine to the matter most near his heart.</p> + +<p>“No, I do not mean that. I should like to see you +there; but I would rather you fought your seat like +other men, and did not profit by the very abuse you +seek to overthrow.”</p> + +<p>“Seats are only won by wading through a sink of iniquity!” +said Eustace bitterly; and Bride was silent, her +face growing sternly sorrowful. Her heart often grew +heavy within her as she realised the terrible wickedness +of the great world without.</p> + +<p>“No seat is worth that,” she said softly; but Eustace +could not agree with her.</p> + +<p>“We must purify legislation; we must so work that a +new and perfect system rises from the ashes of the old!” +he cried, his quick enthusiasm firing at the thought. +“Men can and shall be raised. We shall one day see +the dawn of a brighter and purer day. This is but the +hour of darkness which precedes the dawn. The brightness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> +of the day will atone for all. You will live to see +a new world yet, Bride!”</p> + +<p>A sudden light sprang into her eyes. For a moment +her face was transfigured; but as she looked at him that +light died out. She realised how widely apart were their +ideas of a new world.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b208.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b209.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV<br /> + +<i>EUSTACE’S DILEMMA</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b078s.jpg" alt="S" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap2">“SHE is right in theory—she is perfectly right. +She holds the stronger position. But yet I +cannot give it up. One cannot live in the +world, and breathe an atmosphere so far above +it as she does. The thing is not possible. What!—go +back to London—go back to my friends there, and +say that I cannot accept my kinsman’s seat, because in +right and justice he should not have it to give! What +a howl of derision I should provoke! And to have to +confess that my adviser in this was a girl years younger +than myself, who had hardly left her sea-girt home all +her life—who knows no more of the world than the +babe in the nursery! Why, I should become a laughing-stock +to the whole of the town! I should never be able +to face the world again. No, no, no—such scruples are +untenable. A great work has to be done, and men +are wanted of birth, energy, determination, and probity; +I think I may, without undue self-appreciation, assert +that I possess all these needful qualifications. Better +men than myself have told me so. First let us get the +upper hand, and then we will see what may be done +for purifying the country and raising a higher and a +better standard. If the world <i>would</i> listen to such +teachings as Bride’s, I will not say the world might +not be a better place; but if it will not—why, we must<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> +needs employ tools more fitted for the work. To be +deterred by such a scruple!—no—it would be unworthy +of the Cause!”</p> + +<p>Eustace was alone in his room, dressing for dinner. +His welcome from his kinsman had been kind and +cordial, and he was now bracing himself for the discussion +which must follow upon the request he had to make. +The subject had not yet been broached between them, +though he fancied that the Duke half suspected his +errand, or rather the motive which had prompted it; +but hitherto the talk had been all on public matters, +and he had been relieved to find the old man by no +means so hostile in mind towards the bill as he had +feared to find him. Bride’s estimate of her father’s +attitude of mind was pretty correct. He knew that +some sort of change was needed, and that improved +legislation was required for the peace and prosperity +of the country; but he felt that the proposed measure +would but be the beginning of an upheaval from which +he shrank with natural distaste, and he feared that evils +would follow of magnitude greater than those to be +done away. Therefore he watched the advance of the +wave with no little dread, feeling almost sad that he +should have lived to see so many old landmarks washed +away or submerged.</p> + +<p>So much Eustace had gathered, but he was not daunted. +Things might have been much worse. He had been received +more cordially at the castle than he expected, +and there was exhilaration in the thought of his close +proximity to Bride, even though he resolved not to +make any attempt this visit to approach her as a +lover.</p> + +<p>But he was still quite resolved to win her for his +wife if possible. The few hours spent in her company +had riveted his chains afresh. He had never met a +woman who exercised one-tenth part of the charm upon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> +him that Bride did. Her very unapproachableness made +her dearer and more fascinating. The bright sunshine +of the March afternoon beguiled him from his room +some while before the dinner-hour. He strolled out +into the gardens, and began wandering there, thinking +of his love. Turning a corner, he came suddenly upon +Abner, and was grieved to see such a change in the +old man. His hair had grown many degrees more white, +and there was a bowed look about the shoulders which had +not been noticeable before. His fine old face was seamed +with lines that told of pain, either mental or physical, +whilst the eyes, though retaining their old steadfastness +and brightness, had taken something of wistfulness withal, +as though some haunting regret or unanswered longing +were always present in his mind.</p> + +<p>“Why, Tresithny, I fear you have been ill,” said +Eustace, with his kindly smile, as he greeted the old +man, and expressed his pleasure at seeing him again. +“You have not worn as well as my uncle. Has the +winter been too much for you?”</p> + +<p>“Nay, it’s not the weather, sir—I’m too well seasoned +to mind that. I hadn’t heard as we were tu see yu +down to the castle again, sir. I wish you well, and hope +I see yu in good health.”</p> + +<p>“The best, thank you, Tresithny, and this beautiful +air of yours is like the elixir of life, if you’ve ever heard +of that. But I want to know what ails you; you are +not looking the same man as when I left. Have you +had some illness?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, thank yu,” answered Abner quietly, with a +quick glance into Eustace’s face that seemed to tell him +all he wished to know. “Belike yu haven’t heard of +the trouble. Such things don’t get into the newspapers +yu’ll be likely to see, I take it.”</p> + +<p>“Trouble!—what trouble?” asked Eustace kindly, his +quick sympathies stirred at once by the thought of any<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> +sort of suffering. “I have not heard much news from +Penarvon and St. Bride since I left. My uncle has +written occasionally, but he does not give me much +local news.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, there’s other things more important to be +spoke of; but his Grace was the best friend we had in +the trouble, and there’s no manner of doubt that he +saved his life—poor misguided lad. ’Twould have abin +a hanging matter with him, as ’twas with t’other, but +for his Grace coming himself to speak up for him. I’ll +never forget that. He’s been our best friend throughout, +him and our own Lady Bride—bless her!”</p> + +<p>“Ay, you may well say that,” answered Eustace fervently; +“a sweeter creature never drew breath on this +earth. But I want to know more of this, Tresithny. +What in the world has been going on? I did not +know you could have such serious troubles in this +little paradise of a place. It seems as though it +should be exempt from the strife and crime of the +great world.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” answered Abner gravely, “there’s no place +where human life abides that is free from the curse of +sin. We live in no paradise here. One place is very +much like another, as far as that goes, all the world over, +I take it. But I won’t weary yu with my talk. There’s +not much to tell, and it’s soon told. My grandson, Saul, +got into bad company and bad hands last year. They +deceived and misled the poor lad, and he, being hot and +fiery by nature, was all the more ready to their hand. +He took to preaching rebellion, and I don’t know what, +to the folks who would listen, and so lost his place on +the farm.”</p> + +<p>“He was always too good for a mere labourer,” spoke +Eustace, in a quick low tone. “He was just eating his +heart out in the solitude and the lack of human interest +and sympathy.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>“Well, sir, I don’t know that he mended matters much +by leaving. He went to Pentreath and got some sort of +work there—I’m not very clear what—and got more and +more with bad companions. Then came those riots you’ve +heard tell of all over the country—sometimes against the +new machines, sometimes against the masters, or any rich +men whom the people think worth robbing when they +get the chance. Saul was mixed up in these riots. I +shan’t never know, I s’pose, exactly how much he was to +blame; but he’d got a bad name, and folks were after +him; and at last he and the cobbler, whose house he +lived at, were took up and brought before the magistrates. +Saul got off with six months’ imprisonment; but the +cobbler went before the judges at assizes and was hanged. +They all say Saul would have been served the same if his +Grace hadn’t gone down on purpose to speak up for him +to their reverences: it was that that did it. But six +months of prison has been enough for the boy. I doubt +me he’ll ever be the same again.”</p> + +<p>Eustace was not a little shocked by this story. He +remembered Saul as he had last seen him—a fine, manly, +fearless fellow, strong as a giant, and with mental and +intellectual possibilities that raised him far above his +fellows. He knew something of the state of country +prisons; that was one of the abuses he and his friends +meant to inquire into when the time came. Something +had been done towards amending their condition, even in +the previous century; but very much yet remained that +needed to be done. How had Saul borne that life for six +long weary months? It was bad enough for a town-bred +man, used to confinement and foul air, but what must it +have been for this son of the sea and the downs?</p> + +<p>“Tresithny, I am grieved—I am deeply grieved,” he +said. “Tell me more of the poor fellow. I always thought +highly of Saul. Tell me how he has borne it. He is out +again now, I trust?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>“Yes, shattered in body and soul and spirit,” answered +the old man very sadly, though without bitterness. “The +iron has entered into his soul, and for him there is yet no +healing touch that can salve the soreness of that wound.”</p> + +<p>“He has been ill?”</p> + +<p>“Ay, of the jail-fever. It’s rarer now than ’twas years +ago; but it got fast hold of Saul. May be the fresh winds +will make a strong man of him again before long; but +I’m feared he’s gotten a hurt that is worse than weakness +of body.”</p> + +<p>“Poor fellow!” said Eustace with sincere concern. “I +must go and see him as soon as I can.”</p> + +<p>There was a momentary silence, and then Abner said +quietly—</p> + +<p>“Yu must do as yu will about that, sir.”</p> + +<p>There was something in these words so foreign to +the old gardener’s customary respectful cordiality that +Eustace, who in his own fashion was sensitive enough, +gave a keen quick look at his interlocutor, and spoke with +subdued vehemence.</p> + +<p>“Tresithny, I trust you do not believe that it has been +my doing that poor Saul has fallen into this trouble.”</p> + +<p>Abner finished tying up the young shoot of the tree he +was training before making answer, and then he spoke +very slowly and with an air of sorrowful resignation, which +seemed sadder to the young man than open expressions +of anger or grief.</p> + +<p>“Sir,” he said, “I am not one lightly to lay any man’s +sin at another man’s door. Only the Lord in heaven can +know what blame may attach to each—the one for his +act, the other for words which it were better he should +not have spoken. No, sir; Saul has sinned, and he has +suffered for his sin. I have tried to think no bitter +thoughts of any of those who helped to lead him astray. +Some of them are poor, ignorant, miserable creatures, +who doubtless knew no better. Some, I doubt not, have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> +many and just causes of complaint, and have been goaded +to violence and lawlessness by the fear of starvation, +which works like poison in the blood. It is hard to think +hard thoughts of such, especially when they are left in +their ignorance and misery, and those who should be +their pastors and shepherds seek not after the scattered +flock to gather and feed them. My boy had doubtless +seen and heard enough to fire his blood, and God Almighty +alone may judge of the measure of his guilt. But for my +part, I would that he had been saved from that teaching, +and those thoughts which have worked like madness +in his brain; and you know better than I can do, sir, +how much of the wild words he uses have been learned +from you.”</p> + +<p>“Not much wildness, I think,” answered Eustace +gravely. “He has certainly learned a good many facts +from me, but I have said very much to him to try and +curb the wild spirit of hatred and lawless revolt which +I saw in him. He would tell you that himself if you +asked him.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I don’t doubt it; but when you bring gunpowder +close to the fire to dry it, as you may think, and +take every care that it doesn’t explode, you run a great +risk, even with the most cautious intentions. A puff of +wind down the chimney will send a spark into it, and +then comes an explosion. It’s something like that when +you educated and clever gentlemen begin to bring your +fire near the hot inflammable minds of our ignorant lads. +You don’t mean there to be any spark; you mean to get +your material well dried and in good working order, so +that it can be used for right and legitimate ends; but +though you’re clever enough to make it dry and hot +and fit for service, you can’t stop the fall of the spark +that brings about the explosion, and then you call it +a sad accident and deplore it as much as any but you +don’t always consider the fearful risks you run of bringing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> +about this very accident, which may perhaps recoil one +day on your own head, and which has injured for life +many and many a brave lad who might have lived out +his days in innocence and a fair amount of happiness but +for that.”</p> + +<p>Eustace stood looking down at the path with a thoughtful +face. He could have brought many arguments to +bear upon the old man, explaining how every good cause +as yet undertaken against every existing form of evil had +been marred and hindered at the outset, and indeed all +through its career, by the rashness, the impetuosity, the +ill-advised action of individuals; but he held his peace, +and said nothing that might sound like an excuse for his +own conduct. He <i>did</i> take blame to himself in the case +of Saul. He had felt again and again, whilst talking with +that fiery youth, with his strong character and individuality, +and his burning hatred against the ruling classes, +that he was playing with edged tools. The pleasure of +finding so much intelligence and sympathy in a man of +the people had led him on often to speak out things +which on calmer consideration he would hardly have +put into words so freely. From time to time his own +conscience had warned him that Saul might one day +turn out an unmanageable disciple; but he had hoped +his own strong influence upon him would suffice to hold +in check his fiery partisan zeal, and had forgotten how +quickly that influence would be removed, whilst the +memory of his words, and the feelings they excited, would +live on and ferment and eat into his very soul.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry,” he said at last, looking up at Abner with +frank, open regret in his eyes; “I think I was wrong. I +think I had better have let Saul alone. He has too +much gunpowder, as you rightly call it, in his composition. +I should have been warned by that and have +let him alone.”</p> + +<p>This frank apology evoked a smile from Abner.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>“Sir,” he said, “don’t think I don’t appreciate your +care for the people, or that I don’t know you wish to do +good. I’m very sure of that; and Saul had heard a good +deal more than was good for him before he ever met +you. But knowing that a gentleman such as you felt with +him went a long way with him—seemed to turn the +scale altogether, if you know what I mean. But I’m not +saying he might not have gone as far without, if he’d +taken up with the lads of Pentreath as he’s lately done. +However, he seems to have took altogether against Pentreath +now, and spends his time down on the shore with the +fisher-folk. He’ll be glad enough to see you, sir, I doubt +not. It isn’t many as he’s got a welcome for, but I think +he’ll have it for you.”</p> + +<p>“And I’ll try and see that he is none the worse for my +visit,” said Eustace, with a grave smile; and then he +walked back to the castle, for the dinner-hour had all +but arrived.</p> + +<p>His face was grave and absorbed as he took his seat. +The conversation with Abner had left a painful impression +on his mind. He felt like a man on the horns of a +dilemma. His whole heart was in the cause of reform. +He felt that he was pledged to it, and that he must give +his whole life and energies to it, come what might; +and yet at every turn he was confronted by problems +past his power to solve. He had worked amongst the +people—and behold, his most promising pupil had been +spending the winter in jail, and had but just come +forth shattered in body and mind. He might do more +good by sitting in Parliament and fighting the battle +there—that indeed was his great desire; but to do so +he must take a step which seemed in a sense to be +a sacrifice of principle and self-respect. He seemed +hedged in by difficulties all ways; but his resolution +did not waver.</p> + +<p>“Once let me get this seat, and the knot will be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span> +cut,” he kept saying to himself, as the meal proceeded +in its quiet stately course; and feeling that the sooner +the plunge was taken the better it would he, he only +waited until the servants had withdrawn at the conclusion +of the meal before he spoke out freely and +frankly.</p> + +<p>“Uncle,” he said, with an abruptness that was the +result of repressed excitement, “last year, before you +knew much of my views on politics, you offered to give +me a seat in Parliament upon the first opportunity. +That opportunity has now come, and I have come to +remind you of your offer, and to ask you whether—knowing +my views—you still feel disposed to give it +me. Your old friend has retired, as you told me he +would. He will not sit again. I want, above all things, +to be a member of that House which will—if I mistake +not greatly—have the honour of passing that measure +which will be the keystone to the prosperity of England. +I believe that there is no doubt as to the composition +of the next House of Commons. The voice of +the nation cannot longer be misunderstood or ignored. +It will be a great and a glorious time for England, and +I want to have the great honour and privilege of serving +her at this crisis. Will you give me that seat of +which you spoke, that I may realise this ambition and +happiness?”</p> + +<p>“And pass a measure about which I feel the very +gravest doubts, and which, I fear, may prove anything +but the keystone to greatness and prosperity?” said the +Duke.</p> + +<p>“I know, sir, we do not think alike on this subject. +It is scarcely likely we should. But you have had enough +experience of the ways of the world to be aware that +the advancing wave cannot be turned back. If these +most crucial and important measures are to be passed, +is it not better that they should be drawn up and passed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> +by men of birth and station, men of education and sound +principle? Without claiming for myself qualifications +which I do not possess, or any very great amount of +experience in legislating, I think I have the qualities +I have named; and I am a Marchmont, and the Marchmonts +have not shown themselves deficient either in +ability or in governing power in days of yore. I cannot +but feel that you would prefer your kinsman in the +House to a mere stranger; and I would remember and +respect your scruples and injunctions, and would place +them before my colleagues, giving them all due weight +and respect.”</p> + +<p>The Duke smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>“The boy talks as though he would be a cabinet +minister at once!” he remarked to the room at large. +“Do you suppose anybody will pay any attention to +what a tyro like you will think or speak? and, for my +own part, if I have anything to say to the bill which +I hold to be worth saying, I can go to Westminster and +say it for myself.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, in the Upper House,” said Eustace; “but it is +in the Commons that the battle will be fought.”</p> + +<p>“And you think you can be my mouthpiece there?” +asked the Duke, a little grimly. “Boy, do you not think +I could find a better mouthpiece for my views than you +will ever make?”</p> + +<p>But the question was put with a smile which made +Eustace believe that there would not be much of a battle +to fight. His kinsman was not without the strong family +feeling which was so strong a characteristic of his race; +and the very fact that Eustace desired the seat was a +strong reason why he should have it. With all his +advanced views, he was a Marchmont, and a man of +rectitude and high principle. That the Reform Bill would +assuredly pass the next House of Commons the whole +country fully believed, and the Duke also. There was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> +good deal in Eustace’s argument about getting it drawn +up and debated by the best stamp of men possible.</p> + +<p>“But you—what has so changed your view?” asked +the old man, suddenly turning upon Eustace, and looking +keenly at him. “When first I made my offer, it only +evoked a tirade against the abuse of rotten or pocket +boroughs, as I think you called them. I was led to +imagine that you would recoil in horror from profiting by +such an abuse; and behold, here are you in a year’s time +craving to advance yourself by that very means! How +comes that, my fine young redresser of evils? How can +you reconcile it to your conscience to accept the seat +which you dispute my right to hold?”</p> + +<p>A flush mounted to Eustace’s face.</p> + +<p>“I accept it, and even crave it, that I may be one of those +to abolish it in the future. Till the laws are amended, +the abuse must last, and to amend those laws is the aim +and object of my life. I admit that my position is one +which appears inconsistent. You can easily put me in a +dilemma by well-planted questions; but my mind is clear +and my conscience too. You have to find a candidate for +this seat, and I, as your next of kin, desire it. I openly +proclaim to you the fact that once I am seated in Parliament, +I shall strain every nerve to accomplish the +abolition of the abuse by which I have gained my seat so +readily; but I am neither afraid nor ashamed to seek it +now. I will profit by the iniquity to expunge that iniquity +from our country for ever!”</p> + +<p>“To do a great right, do a little wrong,” quoted the +Duke thoughtfully. “Well, Eustace, you shall have the +seat if you desire it, but I cannot help feeling that +I wish you had not asked me for it, or been willing to +take it.”</p> + +<p>The flush deepened in Eustace’s face as the Duke spoke, +and he caught the answering glance in Bride’s eyes. He +had purposely made his request before her, although it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> +cost him something to do it. He wished to prove to +himself that he had the courage of his opinions, and +was not ashamed of the trifling inconsistency, which he +explained away again and again to what he called his +own satisfaction. He was not prepared to make himself +the laughing-stock of his friends in town for a scruple +of this sort; but he wished he could have avoided the +apparent inconsistency with these kinsfolk of his, who +appeared to look on at the strife of parties and the battle +of life from an altitude which was rather perplexing and +discomfiting.</p> + +<p>“I am greatly obliged, sir,” said Eustace, hardly believing +the battle was already won. He had looked for much +more argument and resistance. “I will try to be worthy +of the trust reposed in me. I hope you do not distrust +me for my willingness to take advantage for once of this +custom so soon to be made obsolete?”</p> + +<p>“I do not distrust your loyalty to your cause; I think +you deserve to sit in the next House, and may in time +make yourself of value to your party. At the same time, +since you do hold so strongly your advanced views, I had +rather you obtained your seat in another fashion, speaking +simply from a moral and theoretic standpoint.”</p> + +<p>“I agree with you there, in theory,” answered Eustace +eagerly. “I wish the world could be governed according +to theory; but, alas! in practice too many of our brightest +and best theories break down. If I had any chance of +winning a seat by an ordinary contest, I would gladly do +so; but I know that I have not. I am an untried man, +and unknown in any constituency. I should not stand +the ghost of a chance; and the bribery and corruption +of an election under such conditions is too revolting to +think of.”</p> + +<p>A faint smile played round the lips of the old Duke.</p> + +<p>“Yes, bribery and corruption are the lawful methods +by which our House of Commons is returned by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> +country, save where there are rotten or pocket boroughs +to be given by favour, or openly bought and sold; and +when these last are done away with, and more contests +set on foot, there will be more bribery and corruption, +rioting and drunkenness, than ever, and this will be the +first step of the great reform.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but only the first step,” answered Eustace +eagerly. “After that step will follow others for the +purifying of these contests, and the rectifying of these +flagrant abuses. Some great men say it can and will be +done by establishing a system of ballot-voting, by which +no man may know how his neighbour votes, so that a +deathblow will be dealt to bribery.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Will</i> it?” questioned the Duke significantly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” was the fearless answer, “because men will +learn to see the worse than folly of bribing a man who +can pocket the bribe, take one from his opponent, and +then go perfectly free and unfettered to vote as he +pleases! The thing will die a natural death as a matter +of course. It may die hard, but die it must.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it will die in its open form. Votes will no +longer be bought at so much a head; but mark my word, +Eustace, a more corrupt and iniquitous form of bribery +will creep slowly and surely upon the country. Governments +will outbid each other with promises of measures +which will appeal to the selfish and self-seeking passions +of the people, just to get into power, quite apart from +true statesmanship or the true good of the nation. There +will be one long struggle after popularity with the unthinking +masses—one long bribing of them by a wholesale +system of promises, more or less faithfully carried +out, which will corrupt the nation to the core as the old +bribery has never corrupted it. Don’t tell me, boy! I +have lived longer than you. I know human nature. An +inducement—a bribe—men will have; and the bribe will +now be of increased power, increased franchise, increased<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span> +ability to levy taxes which those who levy them will not +pay—a system of legalised robbery, which will sooner or +later bring the country to ruin. Ah! yes, you smile. +You think I am a croaker and a pessimist. Well, well, +well—thank God, I shall not live to see the day; but +that day will come for England before many generations +have passed, when she will be groaning beneath the +burden laid upon her by her reformers, but absolutely +unable to break that increasing yoke from off her neck. +Men may rise up in arms against their tyrants when +their tyrant is a monarch; but when they are their own +tyrants, their own legislators, their own oppressors, where +are they to find redress?”</p> + +<p>Eustace made no attempt to reply. The Duke was +talking a language incomprehensible to him and absurd. +Even argument seemed thrown away here; yet all the +while he respected the sincerity and the character of the +man before him, and he answered with a smile—</p> + +<p>“Well, uncle, if we cannot agree as to the outcome of +these measures, at least we can agree to differ, and we +can each pocket our little bit of inconsistency with a +quiet conscience. You will give me the seat, whilst +holding that eventual ill will come from the cause I +advocate; and I will profit by an abuse to do away with +that abuse. I think it comes pretty much to this: we +both know that this first step is inevitable, therefore you +cease to fight against it, whilst I seek to help to forward it +by every wise and right method. There are many men in +the country more ‘advanced’ than I, and I have a dread +of rash precipitation. I think I shall do good and not +harm even to your cause by my voice. I shall certainly +take warning by your words, and be always on the side +of moderation.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have the seat,” said the Duke, “because +you are my next of kin, and because I respect you as a +man, if I do not agree with you as a politician. In the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> +course of nature you will not long be able to sit in the +House of Commons; and since your heart is set upon it, +I will give you the chance this time. You can choose +which you will do—accept the seat I have at my disposal—getting +in by an abuse; or I will give my seat to the +Tory member for Pentreath, and put you up in his place +and give you my influence there. Pentreath has hitherto +always returned a Tory candidate, and Sir Roland Menteith +is a very popular man locally—you would have no +chance against him; but if I gave him my seat, and you +stepped forward as the Reform candidate—a moderate +reformer supported by the Penarvon interest, you might +stand an excellent chance. There would certainly be +another Tory adversary put up against you, but I know +of no man likely to be popular. The people of the place +have become strongly leavened by the spirit of the day, +and my influence would go far to turn the scale with a +great many. You can think it over and do as you will. +Personally you have no influence, or little here; but as a +Marchmont and the future Duke, you would have a good +deal. There would be expenses of course—we could talk +about that later. I do not seek to persuade you to anything; +I only tell you what I will do for you if you prefer +to contest a seat rather than get one by an abuse. You +can think it quietly over, and decide at your leisure. +Sir Roland is dining here in a week’s time. He always +comes to see me after his return from Westminster to +give me all the news. We can talk the matter over with +him then.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b224.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b225.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV<br /> + +<i>STIRRING DAYS</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b078s.jpg" alt="S" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">SIR ROLAND MENTEITH was slightly known +to Eustace, who had spent much time in the +lobbies of the House of Commons, and was personally +known to the majority of its members, +by sight if not by name. He was a fine-looking man of +some five-and-thirty summers, and although a Tory by +descent and tradition, was by no means an enemy of such +moderate measures of parliamentary reform as were at +present under discussion. He had voted for the reading +of the recent bill, and was by no means prepared to +pledge himself to his constituency as its enemy. There +were many amongst his enemies who said he had no right, +with the views he held, to call himself a Tory; but he +would defend himself by the argument that Tories would +soon cease to exist if they never moved one step forward +with the times they lived in. A system originally sound +and good could well become corrupt and bad under a +changed condition of affairs, and if Tories were pledged +to resist any sort of change, bad or good—well, they at +once placed themselves in a false position, and made their +own extinction only a matter of time. He maintained +that the true Tory aimed always for the best and soundest +policy, the policy that would make England respected +abroad and prosperous at home. Tearing down and splitting +up were actions bad and degrading to a government,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> +but gradual change, especially of a constructive character, +was essential to the development of the national life. So +he argued, and Eustace cordially agreed, whilst the old +Duke listened with his slight peculiar smile, and said +little, but kept true to the point in the little he did say. +Sir Roland had come over to the castle in great excitement +only one day following the arrival of Eustace there, +and he had easily been persuaded to remain on as a +guest whilst these important and stirring themes were +under discussion. He was very well pleased to find in +young Marchmont so moderate and temperate a reformer. +Eustace had certainly learnt more moderation of thought +during the past year, and was more cautious both in what +he advocated and what he approved. He had had several +experiences of a kind likely to awaken in him some distrust +of the methods which once had seemed entirely +right and praiseworthy; and he began to have an inkling +that there was something wanting in his system before it +could be called in any way perfect. The passions of the +people could easily be stirred; but there was no power +he knew of as yet strong enough to hold them in a just +and proper repression. It was a hateful thing to him +to be accused (as he knew he was in many quarters) +of being one of those demagogues bent on rousing all +that was worst and most cruel and wild in the natures +over which he acquired influence. Sir Roland, after one +of his many morning rides into Pentreath, told him flatly +that he had the credit of being at the bottom of those +riots which had caused such loss and destruction of property +there in the autumn, and it was soon ascertained +that the feeling there was so strongly against him that it +would be hopeless for him to stand as a candidate on +either one side or the other.</p> + +<p>This piece of intelligence came as rather a severe shock +to him. After the interview with the Duke on the day +of his arrival, he had thought more and more of the suggestion<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> +that he should contest the seat at Pentreath, +sparing Sir Roland the cost and the worry. His own +income was large, and could well stand the strain, and +the Duke was a man of known wealth and liberality. +Eustace, too, was indulging in halcyon dreams of contesting +the seat with rigid purity of method, hoping even to +shame his adversary into better ways by his own absolute +probity. Sir Roland, although fond of his constituents, +and rather fond of the excitement and bustle of an election +and the sound of his own clever speeches on the +hustings, was by no means averse to be spared the trouble +and expense for once, stepping quietly into the Duke’s +pocket borough, and throwing in his influence for young +Marchmont, with whom upon the essential matter of the +coming strife he agreed. Eustace was feeling something +of the keen exhilaration of the coming strife, and was +enjoying the release from the anomalous position he would +have occupied (at least in the eyes of Bride) as his kinsman’s +nominee, when this fresh blow was dealt to his +pride and his hopes. Sir Roland had heard enough to be +very certain that the very name of Eustace Marchmont +would arouse an uproar of fury amongst the class who +had the voting power; also, there could be no manner +of doubt that his appearance as a candidate would provoke +fresh riots of a very serious nature. Investigation +of these rumours only confirmed them. Eustace Marchmont’s +name had been on the lips of all the rioters who +made havoc of the town during the recent outbreak. +Their young leader, Saul Tresithny, had quoted him as +his authority for almost every wild argument by which +he had stirred the people to madness, and roused them to +any act of violence, in order to overthrow, or at least be +revenged upon, their tyrants and foes. If he were to +appear on the hustings, he would be at once the idol of +the lawless (and voteless) mob; but the object of reprobation, +if not of execration, to all the sober-minded citizens,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span> +whatever might be their political views. Had Eustace +come amongst them as a stranger with the Penarvon and +Menteith interest at his back, he might have carried all +before him, for there was no popular man in the place +likely to oppose him under those conditions; but branded +as he now was by the names of Radical and revolutionary, +all men looked askance at him, and it was with a keen +sense of disappointment, not to say humiliation, that he +had to abandon the idea of contesting the seat, and revert +to his original plan of accepting his kinsman’s nomination.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you think that my sin has found me out,” +he said rather bitterly to Bride, when this unpalatable +news had become verified as actual fact. “I suppose you +believe that I went about the country last year inciting +men to arson and pillage and every sort of brutality. +You know that is what is said of me by the respectable +people of Pentreath, that I provoked and incited riot, and +took very good care to be out of the way when it took +place, that others might bear the punishment.”</p> + +<p>“It is cruel to say such things of you,” answered Bride, +with a quiet indignation which was very grateful to him. +“I know they are not true, and I almost think the people +who say them know that there is only a very small +substratum of truth in them. But, Eustace,” and she +looked up at him with one of her rare smiles, “do you +not think you sometimes say things almost as untrue on +the other side? Do you not sometimes make out men in +high places to be little else than monsters, when all the +time they are almost as helpless, and perhaps even less to +blame for the effects of a system, than you for those riots +at Pentreath, which above all things you disapprove and +deprecate?”</p> + +<p>“I know what you mean,” he said; “I think we all +go too far in our attack and defence. But those men <i>do</i> +uphold a system of tyranny and iniquity, even if they are +not responsible for it, whilst I never uphold violence and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> +lawlessness. I hate and abominate it with my whole +heart.”</p> + +<p>“I know you do; but you will not get ignorant men to +believe it, when you teach them how bad the laws are. +Their idea of mending the existing state of things is to +rebel against it by force.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; and great present mischief is the result; but, +Bride, if all men held your doctrine of patience and submission, +no reformation or reform, no redress of abuses, +no respite from tyranny and oppression, would ever have +been effected in the world’s history. When you have +such imperfect material to deal with, imperfections are +everywhere. Good is always mixed with evil, and will +be to the end of the chapter.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; until the Kingdom,” answered Bride sadly, yet +with a sudden lighting of the eyes. “Yes, Eustace, I +know that so long as human nature is what it is, nothing +can be done without evil creeping in. But I still think +that if men would be content to leave results, and simply +strive themselves after the best and highest good, and try +and teach the ignorant and the degraded the one true and +only way of raising themselves—if men would look to +God for His teaching—from the highest to the lowest—trying +in all things to do not their will but His—then I +think the world would gradually raise itself without +these cruel scenes of strife and bloodshed, without these +heart-burnings and miserable factions. ‘Thy kingdom +come!’ It is a prayer always on our lips; but do men +try to apply the laws of God’s kingdom to this earth +which He has made and they have marred?”</p> + +<p>“I think that is about the last thing men of the present +day think of,” answered Eustace, with a curious sidelong +look at the earnest face beside him. “They want something +more practical to go by. When it comes to be a +question what God wills, every divine and every school of +theology and philosophy has a different answer to give.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> +Such an appeal as that would only make confusion worse +confounded.”</p> + +<p>A very wistful, sorrowful look crept into the fair young +face.</p> + +<p>“I was not thinking of schools of theology or philosophy,” +she answered very quietly, “I was thinking of +God Himself as revealed in His Incarnate Son; but I do +not think we understand each other when we speak of +that, Eustace.”</p> + +<p>In very truth he did not understand her. Did she +seriously believe that the affairs of the world could be +directed by a Divine voice straight from heaven? It +almost appeared sometimes as though she did, and yet in +most matters Lady Bride, mystic and dreamer though she +was, was not lacking in quiet common-sense and a fair +amount of experience of such life as she had seen.</p> + +<p>For a moment he stood silent beside her—they were +on the terrace, looking down at the sparkling sea below. +Then he roused himself, and changed the subject suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Shall we go down to the shore and see Saul Tresithny? +I have not succeeded in catching him yet. I do not +think he tries to avoid me. Your gardener says he is +much attached to me; but he has always been out with +the boats. There seems plenty of fishing just now. I +hope the poor fellow is not suffering from lack of employment.”</p> + +<p>“I think not. There is always plenty of work with +the boats in the summer months. It is the winter that +is so hard for our people, except when they take to +smuggling, as too many do. I am afraid that is what +Saul will do when fishing gets slack. He always had a +leaning towards any sort of adventure and danger. +Abner managed to keep him away from the fishing-village +as a lad, and when he went to the farm he had other +work, and was too far off; but I am afraid how it will be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> +with him now. I had hoped he would go to Mr. St. +Aubyn and take care of his garden and horse, but he +will not. Nobody can do anything with him—poor +Saul!”</p> + +<p>“I will see what I can do,” said Eustace, with hopeful +confidence. “He is too good to turn into a mere fisherman +and smuggler. There are traits of great promise in +him. I suppose birth and blood <i>does</i> tell, and there is +reason to believe that his father was a man of birth, I +hear, although he may have been a villain. Certainly +the man is very different from his fellows. I wonder +whether he would come to London as my servant. I could +do very well with another groom, and I know he has a +great knack with horses. He might be very useful.”</p> + +<p>“I wish he would,” said Bride earnestly. “It might +be a turning-point in his life to get away from old associates +and old ideas.”</p> + +<p>They were by this time walking down towards the +shore by the little ridge-like path before described. +Eustace was behind, and Bride in front, so that she could +not see the sudden light which leaped into his eyes; but +she heard something new in the tone of his voice as he +said—</p> + +<p>“Then you do not hold that I have been the ruin of +Saul—body and soul, as so many do? You do not think +that to take him away with me would be but to consummate +that ruin?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed I do not,” answered Bride gently. “I +think that the people who say such things do not understand +you, Eustace. I think you might perhaps do poor +Saul more good than anybody just now, because I think +he will listen to you, and he will listen to no one +else. I should like to think of him going away with +you. If you cannot teach him all he will have to learn +before he can be a truly happy man, you can teach him +a great deal that he will be better for the knowing;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> +and perhaps some day, when the right time has come, +he will be ready to be taught the rest.”</p> + +<p>“Then you do not call me a demagogue, an infidel—a +man dangerous to the whole community, and to the +world at large?” questioned Eustace, with the insistance +of one whose heart has been deeply wounded by accusations +hurled against him—all the more deeply from +the consciousness that the censure has not been wholly +undeserved.</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Bride softly, “I do not call you any +of those names—not even in my thoughts. I know +you have not been very wise; I think you know that +yourself, and will learn wisdom for the future. But I +know that you believed yourself right in what you said +and did, and were generous and disinterested in your +teaching. About your faith I know very little. I think +you know very little yourself; but we can leave that +in God’s hands. It does not come by man, or through +man, but by the will of God. I think it is His will, +Eustace, to draw you to Himself one day; but that +day must come in His good time. I think we sometimes +make a great mistake in striving to urge and +drive those whom we love. Waiting <i>is</i> hard, and sometimes +it seems very, very long. But things are so +different with God—His patience as well as His love are +so much greater than ours. And we can always pray—that +helps the time of waiting best.”</p> + +<p>Eustace was intensely thrilled by these low-spoken +words, which he only just caught through the plash of the +waves beneath. That magnetic influence which Bride +always exercised upon him was almost overpoweringly +strong at that moment. He could almost have fallen at +her feet in adoration. After the good-natured strictures +of Sir Roland, the slight grim reproofs of the Duke, and +his knowledge of the cutting criticisms and violent abuse +levelled at him by the world of Pentreath, these words<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> +of Bride’s fell like balm upon his spirit. He felt lifted +into a different atmosphere, and the question could not +but present itself to him—</p> + +<p>“If faith and those unseen things in which that pure +girl believes, which are to her the greatest realities of +life, are nothing but a myth, a figment of the imagination, +what gives them such power over a nature like +mine? Why do I thrill at the thought of them? Why +do I see glimpses, as through a rifted cloud, of a glory, +a beauty, a peace beyond anything I have ever conceived? +Why, even by the teachings of my own philosophy, +the fact of this stirring of spirit indicates a reality +of some sort. And is there, after all, nothing higher than +philosophy? Is there no object of objective worship? Is +there, after all, a God?”</p> + +<p>Little did Bride suspect the quick stirrings of spirit +her words had evoked. She walked on, with her sweet +face set in earnest lines, thinking of Saul and his grandfather’s +ceaseless prayers on his behalf, praying herself +for him in a half-unconscious fashion, as was her habit +when thoughts of the erring one presented themselves. +Her mind was more with him just at that moment +than with the kinsman behind her, with whom, however, +thoughts of Saul were always more or less mixed up; +therefore the question, when it came, did not in any wise +startle her.</p> + +<p>“Bride, do you mean that you ever pray for me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Eustace. I always pray for those whom I love, +and for those who seem to need my prayers.”</p> + +<p>He was silent for several minutes, and then his thoughts +surging back to a question that had been on the tip of +his tongue before, he asked, “Bride, you said I could not +teach Saul to be a truly happy man. Do you think that +I am not a happy man myself?”</p> + +<p>“Not a truly happy one,” she answered, with quiet +certainty. “I believe you are happy in one way—in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> +world’s way. But that is not what I mean by true +happiness. There is another happiness I hope you will +learn some day—I think you will; and then you will +understand. I do not think you can understand yet.”</p> + +<p>He was not sure that he could not. He remembered +the Duchess in former years; he had Bride before his eyes +now. Even old Abner, in the midst of all his trouble, +showed a substratum of unchanging serenity which nothing +seemed able to shake. He believed he apprehended without +understanding what manner of thing this happiness was—a +thing altogether different from and independent of the +fluctuations of enjoyment and pleasure which went by +the name of happiness in his world. Eustace was receiving +impressions just now with a force and a rapidity that +was startling to him. Every day something seemed +added to his list of experiences, and not the least was the +peculiar wave of emotion that swept over him now.</p> + +<p>Yet Bride noticed nothing different in his manner as +they reached the beach, and were able to walk on side by +side. He was a little absent and thoughtful perhaps, as +was natural with the interview just hanging over him; +and it soon appeared that their journey was not in vain, +for the tall form of Saul was seen seated upon a rock not +far away, and Bride said softly to Eustace, “There he is. +I think you had better go to him alone. I will go and +see some of the poor people and join you later on.”</p> + +<p>Eustace was grateful to her for this suggestion. Now +that he was almost face to face with his quondam pupil, +he felt that he would rather be alone. He did not know +in what mood Saul would meet him, and it was better +perhaps that they should be without the fetter which the +presence of Bride must necessarily impose.</p> + +<p>Without pausing to rehearse any speech, Eustace walked +straight up to the lonely figure on the rock, and holding +out his hand in greeting (a demonstration very rare in those +days between men of such different stations), said, with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> +warm feeling, “Tresithny, you have suffered in what you +took to be the cause of the people. That must make a +fresh bond between us, whatever else we may have to say +upon the subject.”</p> + +<p>Saul started at the sound of the familiar, unexpected +voice (the plash of the waves had drowned approaching +footsteps); he started again at sight of the outstretched +hand; but after a moment of visible hesitation, he took it +in his grasp and wrung it till Eustace could have winced. +The sombre face was working strangely. The mask of +stolid indifference and contempt had fallen from it. There +was a new light in the hollow eyes as they met the searching +gaze of Eustace’s, and the first words came out with +something of a gasp.</p> + +<p>“Then you have come at last, sir, and you have not +changed!”</p> + +<p>“Why should I change?” asked Eustace, with a smile, +wonderfully relieved to find that this unapproachable man, +who was puzzling all the world besides, did not turn a +deaf ear upon him. Shocked as he was at the change he +saw in the outward aspect of Saul, he saw that it was +the same Saul as of old, a man full of strength and fight—a +tool that might be dangerous to work with, or of +inestimable value, according as it could be guided and +tempered. A sense of true admiration and fellowship +sprang up within him towards this stern-faced son of +toil, with his sorrowful story and suffering face.</p> + +<p>“Why should I change?” he asked; and then Saul’s +pent-up feeling burst out.</p> + +<p>Every one had changed—the whole world—the very +cause itself. All had left him in his hour of need—all +had turned upon him and betrayed and deserted him. +Months of solitary brooding, the delirium of fever, the +overwrought nervous condition into which imprisonment +had driven him, had all combined to produce in Saul a +distorted image of life, of the world, and of every single<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span> +being in it. Hitherto he had locked these feelings in his +own heart; but now, before Eustace, the one man who had +proffered him friendship in the midst of his trouble, the +friendship of comrade to comrade, man to man, it all came +pouring out in one great flood of impassioned eloquence +and imprecation, terrible sometimes to listen to. It was +not easy at times even to follow his rapid speech, which +alternated between the roughest vernacular and the purest +English he had ever spoken, rehearsed a hundred times +in his prison-house, as he had prepared the speeches which +were to raise all Devon and Cornwall to arms, if need be, +against the monstrous class tyranny under which the country +lay groaning. Eustace let him have his fling, never +stopping him by argument or opposition, leading him on by +a sympathetic word now and again to outpour everything +that was in his heart without fear. He knew by instinct +what the relief would be, how much good it would do for +the outlet to be found at length; and though unable to +repress a sense of shuddering loathing at some of the +words of his companion, he could well excuse them in the +thought of his great sufferings and state of mental distraction, +and was very hopeful by slow degrees of winning him +back to a better and more reasonable frame of mind.</p> + +<p>It was much to have gained his confidence—much that +Saul was able to depend on the sympathy of his former +master, and was not afraid of baring his inmost soul +before him. Eustace was seized sometimes with a sense +of something like dismay to find how absolutely Saul believed +he would echo even the most blasphemous of his +thoughts, how securely he reckoned upon finding in his +leader the same absolute denial of all revealed religion—religion +which he himself fiercely decried and ridiculed, as +part and parcel of a corrupt system soon to be exploded. +Much that the young man thus hotly declaimed against—much +of his wild and random vituperation must have +been learned from others. Eustace could honestly affirm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> +he had never allowed such expressions to pass his lips; +but here and there a phrase of his own would mingle with +the wilder words of Saul, and half startle Eustace by the +method of its application. Also he could not help recognising, +as this man poured out his soul before him by the +shore that day, that his own standpoint had very slightly +and insensibly changed from those days, more than a year +back now, when he had first sought to awaken in Saul a +response to his own ardent imaginings. What the change +was he could scarcely define, but he was aware that +arguments and assertions which would then have passed +by as only slight exaggerations of a legitimate truth, now +came to him with something of a shock, bringing a realisation +of some unheeded change or development in himself +which had silently leavened during the past months, till +it had attained a proportion he never suspected.</p> + +<p>Rousing himself with a start from the train of thought +thus suggested, he tried to bring his companion back to +the world of real things, and to leave these idle denunciations +and invectives alone for the present. When Saul +had about tired himself with his own impetuosity, and +had kept silence for a few moments, Eustace spoke a few +well-chosen words of sympathy, and gradually bringing +round the subject of the forthcoming election, he explained +to the ex-prisoner what had been going on in +the world during his incarceration, and what bright +hopes were now entertained in this country of better +days in store for it, when a strong Government, pledged +to redress the gravest of political abuses, should be in +power.</p> + +<p>Saul was not entirely ignorant of what had passed, but +had very distorted ideas as to the amount and character +of the opposition offered to the bill and the prospects of +its speedy success. He listened eagerly to what Eustace +told him, and his remarks and questions again struck his +master as showing a quickness of insight and a power<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> +of appreciation most remarkable in one of his class. He +was a more excitable, a more sombre, a more embittered +man than he had been a year before. His class hatred +had sunk deeper into his soul, and become a more integral +part of his nature. Eustace recognised how the humiliation, +if not the destruction, of the moneyed classes was +to him almost more of an object than the redress of the +grievances of the poor. The two were linked together +in his mind, it was true; but it was easy to see which of +them held the foremost place. Eustace realised, as perhaps +he had never done so well before, the temper of the +French revolutionaries of forty years back. He could +well picture Saul in their midst, and think with a +shudder of the deeds he would commit at the head of +a furious mob, wrought up to a pitch of ungovernable +fury by the rude eloquence of such a leader. Perhaps +he realised, too, what might come to England if her sons +were stirred up to a like madness, instead of being worked +upon by gentler methods. He well knew that there had +been moments when his own country had been on the +brink of revolution, and that such moments might even +come again. Surely it was needful for the men who +stood in the forefront of the van of reform to walk +warily. They had an immense power behind them; but +it was, as Abner had said, the power of an explosive +whose properties and whose energies were but imperfectly +understood. Reform may be the best hindrance +to revolution, but it may also incite the very danger it +strives to avert. Eustace had been told this a hundred +times before, but he had never been so convinced of the +truth of the warning as he was whilst walking on the +shore that day in the company of Saul.</p> + +<p>He suggested taking him away from St. Bride, and +showing him the other side of life in the great centres +of the world; but Saul, though visibly attracted by the +thought of continuing near to Eustace, for whom his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> +love and admiration were most loyal, gave no decided +answer. He shrank from the confinement even of freedom +in a great city, shrank from even such slight bondage +as service under such a master as this would entail. +Moreover, there was no need for a speedy decision. +Eustace would be some weeks at the castle; he would +probably remain there till the result of the election was +known. It would be time enough to settle then what +should be done. For the present, Saul would remain +unfettered and untrammelled.</p> + +<p>“For I must be in Pentreath if there is to be an election,” +he said, the light of battle leaping into his eyes. +He remembered elections in past times, and the attendant +excitement and fighting and fun, as in those days it seemed +to him. He was no politician then, and had only the +vaguest notion as to what it was all about; but he was +always foremost in the crowd about the hustings, cheering, +howling, flinging missiles, according to the spirit of +the moment and the wave of public opinion, which would +ebb and rise and change a dozen different times in as +many hours. He had always been instinctively the +enemy of the Tory and the supporter of the Whig candidate, +because he had always taken on every matter the +contrary opinion of the Castle—almost as a matter of +religion. Otherwise he could not be said to have had an +opinion heretofore in such things. But the excitement, +the indiscriminate treating, the rowdyism of the whole +place, and the fights and scrimmages that were constantly +arising, were like the elixir of life to the ardent temperament +of one who was forced by circumstances into a life +of monotonous toil. He always obtained a few days’ +holiday on such occasions, and spent them in a fashion +dear to his heart. Now he looked forward to a longer +spell of excitement, and to struggles of a very different +kind. Then it had all been fun, now it would be stern +earnest with him. There was a fierce light of battle in his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> +eyes. The hope sprang up again in his heart of striking +a blow for the cause. Eustace saw the look, heard the +half hissed words of joy and anticipation, and smilingly +laid a hand on the young fisherman’s arm.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think you will do well to be there. You are +one of those who may do us good, and help on the cause +of right and liberty; but not by violence, Saul—always +remember that. Violence is not our friend, but our most +deadly foe. It puts a sword in the hands of our enemies +to slay us withal. There must be no unseemly violence +at the Pentreath election—remember that. We must +give our opponents no reason to say that the cause of +reform is advocated by cowardly and unworthy means. +Leave all that sort of thing to our foes. Let them get +up as many riots as they please. Our part is to be just +and wise and patient, secure in the righteousness and +justice of our object. You will find we shall come out +in a far stronger position by remembering this than if we +organise disturbances and lead angry mobs to deeds of +reckless lawlessness.”</p> + +<p>Saul made no response; Eustace was not even sure +that he heard. His eyes were flashing, his nostrils working; +he clenched and unclenched his hand in a fashion +indicative of strong excitement.</p> + +<p>Eustace judged it wiser to say no more for the present. +There would be plenty of time before the elections came +off to gain an increasing ascendency over this wild spirit. +His first beginning had been by no means bad.</p> + +<p>Yet Eustace, as he walked homewards silently with +Bride, could hardly help smiling at the thought of the +part he should be forced to play with Saul. That there +were stirring days coming upon the country he could not +doubt, and he meant to take his part in them with a will; +but he realised that, with Saul watching his every movement, +and pledged to follow him to the utmost limit to +which his own arguments could be pushed, he should be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> +forced to weigh his words, and direct his actions with a +greater prudence end moderation than he had originally +purposed. Perhaps it might be well for him to have this +reminder well before his eyes, but he could not but smile +at the peculiar result which had been brought about by +his own endeavour to work some sort of small agitation +amongst the people at St. Bride’s, St. Erme, and +Penarvon.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b241.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b242.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI<br /> + +<i>THE POLLING AT PENTREATH</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b032e.jpg" alt="E" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">EVEN Bride caught something of the prevailing +excitement as the days and weeks flew by, and +nothing was spoken of, or thought of in the +world about her, but the coming election and the +prospects of the Reform party. The far West-Country +might be a little long in growing into the burning questions +of the day, but once aroused, it could show an amount of +eagerness and enthusiasm not to be despised by busier +centres. Moreover, party and local feeling always runs +very high in out-of-the-world places, and many in and +around Pentreath who cared but little, and understood +less, of the real point at issue, were keenly excited over +the coming contest on account of the exceptional nature +it presented.</p> + +<p>Hitherto their member, Sir Roland Menteith, had been +returned almost without opposition. He was popular +with all sections of the community, and such opposition +as he met with was of a kind sufficient to be the excuse +for unlimited treating and unlimited rowdyism on polling +day, without being enough to awaken the smallest +amount of anxiety or uncertainty as to the result of the +struggle. But now all this was to be changed, and as +days and weeks rolled on, it became very evident that +there would be a decided and sharp contest; and although +the supporters of Sir Roland were fairly sanguine as to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> +the result, the election was not the foregone conclusion it +had been in days of yore.</p> + +<p>In the first place, there was already division in the +camp; for so soon as it became known that Sir Roland, +whilst still professing Tory principles, intended to give his +adhesion to the bill which was before the country for +the reform of the franchise, a strong party, including +large numbers of wealthy men, at once seceded from +him, and in a short time it was announced that young +Viscount Lanherne was coming forward in the Tory +interest to dispute the seat with Sir Roland; whilst in +the extreme Whig or Radical interest a candidate was +forthcoming in the person of Mr. Morval, a wealthy and +influential middle-class man, whose power and importance +in the place had been steadily growing during the +past years, and who promised to bring a strong army of +voters to the poll when the day should come.</p> + +<p>The defection of these old-fashioned and “rabid” Tories +from the ranks of Sir Roland was a serious blow, for +hitherto he had always counted securely upon every vote +this section of the community had to give. It was a +distinct split in the ranks, and a very serious one. The +young Viscount, though personally popular in society, +was only a lad fresh from Oxford, and knew nothing +of the bulk of his constituents. He had practically no +chance of success, yet greatly endangered Sir Roland’s +seat, and was in great danger of making it a present to +the Radical candidate. From a common-sense standpoint +it was a grave error of judgment, but when party feeling +runs high, common-sense too often goes to the wall. +There was a large section in the county who absolutely +refused to give any vote to a man not pledged to fight +the Reform Bill tooth and nail. By this section Sir +Roland was looked upon as a turncoat and renegade; nor +could the old-fashioned soundness of his Conservative +principles on other questions condone the fact that he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> +stood pledged to the support of this measure, which was +looked upon as the first step towards the overthrow of +the existing constitution.</p> + +<p>Neither did the Whig and Radical section trust the +policy of Sir Roland. They had too long been accustomed +to regard him as the Tory candidate to look upon +him with favouring eyes now. In plain English, the appearance +of another Tory candidate in the field, pledged +to the old-fashioned Tory policy, had taken the wind out +of his sails, and made his position an anomalous one. He +found himself in the quandary so many do who try to +adopt a moderate and liberal policy without giving up +altogether the older traditions in which they have been +reared: he was suspected and distrusted by a large section +on both sides, and regarded as one who was neither +“fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring,” a position not +a little galling and irritating to a man who had hitherto +carried all before him with easy assurance.</p> + +<p>The Penarvon interest was his, and that went a long +way; and Eustace, who worked most energetically on his +committee, did all that one man can do to ensure a victory. +Eustace, however, was not always the best of advocates, +for though he had a wide popularity in certain classes, he +was very greatly suspected and distrusted in others, and +those who would most willingly have followed his lead +were not of the class that had votes to give.</p> + +<p>Still Sir Roland was by no means out of heart as to +the result. He had a very large following of men of +moderate opinions, and the support of the Duke, who was +greatly respected by the upper classes in the neighbourhood, +was the best guarantee he could possess that he +was not going to pursue a destructive and outrageous +policy. Men who had wavered at first and had heard with +enthusiasm the news that Viscount Lanherne was coming +forward, began to think better of the matter after reading +some of Sir Roland’s manifestoes and hearing some of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> +speeches. The young Viscount, though eager for the +excitement of the coming contest, and all on fire for the +cause on which he had embarked, was neither a man of +experience nor knowledge, and he betrayed his lack of +many of the needful requirements of a politician whenever +he addressed a meeting or harangued a crowd. +People began to take up the name of “painted popinjay,” +which had been freely flung at him by the Radicals. It +seemed somehow to fit the young spark, who was always +dressed in the tiptop of fashion, and whose face was as +brightly tinted as that of a girl.</p> + +<p>Sir Roland had won for himself the name of “trimmer,” +and found it difficult to know what to call himself, since +the name Tory was now absorbed by the Viscount’s party, +whilst the other opponent had taken upon himself the +name and office of the Whig representative. At last, +following the example of the great trimmer, Lord Halifax, +he, with a mixture of tact and good-humour which did +him credit and proved a strategic success, himself adopted +the name thrust upon him, and in his speeches and printed +addresses openly advocated the policy of “trimming,” +when it had become a certainty that neither of the two +advocated extremes could any longer govern the country. +Of course there was an immense power in the style of +argument adopted from the great peer of two centuries +back, who had often found himself in a parallel dilemma; +and his arguments, dressed up in a fresh garb, were freely +used by Sir Roland, and that with no small effect. +Eustace read up the subject of compromise for him, and +furnished him with most telling precedents to quote to his +audiences. The Duke spoke to those friends who came +to remonstrate with, or consult him, in a fashion that was +not without effect. Men began to say to one another +that if the Duke of Penarvon had reached the conclusion +that it was hopeless to try and stem the tide, and that +the wisest and best course now was to seek to place in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span> +authority men of known experience, probity, and moderation +to guide the bark of the country through the troubled +waters of reform, why then they had better follow the same +tactics. He would certainly have advocated a fighting +policy if there was any reasonable hope of maintaining +the struggle with success; but if he despaired of this, +it showed, indeed, that the time for compromise had +come, and every one who knew anything of human nature +or the history of nations, must be aware that to insist on +fighting a hopeless battle was only to stir up an infinity +of bitterness and party feeling, and render the winning +side tenfold more violent and destructive.</p> + +<p>And so the days fled swiftly by; Eustace, though secure +of his own seat, working as hard in the cause of Sir +Roland as though it had been his own, striving to live +down the distrust and ill-feeling he found prevailing +against him in Pentreath and its neighbourhood, and gaining +an experience and insight into human nature which +he had never obtained before. He found himself sometimes +in a rather awkward corner, it is true; for his own +views were far more in accordance with those of the +Radical candidate, Mr. Morval, than with those of Sir +Roland, and it was by no means always easy to avoid +being landed again and again on the horns of a dilemma. +But since Sir Roland and he were of one mind upon the +great question upon which the appeal to the country was +made, Eustace felt that side issues and other matters of +policy could be left to take care of themselves. It would +have been impossible to remain a guest at Penarvon +and to have flung himself into the arms of the Radical or +even the Whig party (it was all one, called at the castle +Radical, and in the town Whig, for the name Radical +was still unpopular amongst those who were voters, though +beginning to be caught up by the people). Eustace had no +strong temptation to do this, having from the first taken +a liking for Sir Roland, and feeling grateful towards his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span> +kinsman the Duke, who had been liberal enough to promise +him the coveted seat, even whilst regretting the nature +of the great measure his kinsman was pledged to support. +Eustace would have sacrificed more to win his goodwill +and approval, or to keep in touch and in sympathy with +Bride. She was awaking to a keener interest in the +coming struggle than he had ever looked to see in her. +He could not tell exactly what she thought about it +all, or what view she took of the question of Reform; but +there was something in her method of receiving his +accounts of their doings that inspired him with a keen +wish to retain her sympathies; and those he had found +he could never have unless his own doings were perfectly +upright and honourable. Many and many a time he was +restrained from employing some common trick or some +unworthy inducement by the remembrance of the look in +Bride’s eyes when Sir Roland had laughingly boasted of +a like bit of sharp practice. In point of fact, he was +growing to rule his life by a new standard since knowing +more of Bride and her ideals. He hardly recognised this +himself as yet; but, had he paused to look back, he would +have known that there were innumerable little ways in +which he had changed. Things which in old days would +have appeared absolutely legitimate, if not actually advisable, +were now avoided by him with a scrupulousness +which often exposed him to a laugh. He began to ask +himself instinctively how Bride would regard any course +of action about which he was uncertain, and again and +again that question had arrested him from taking a +slightly doubtful course, and kept him upon the road of +strict probity and honesty.</p> + +<p>Nor could Bade be altogether unconscious of this herself, +and it began to form a silent bond between them, +which was, perhaps, almost dangerously sweet. Eustace +was the most conscious of this, and it often made his +heart thrill with pleasure; neither was it without its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> +effect upon her—one of these being an increased interest +in everything concerning this contest, and the keenest +sympathy with Eustace’s strenuous endeavours that it +should be conducted on lines of the strictest equity, and +that nothing should be said or done to disgrace the cause +or give a handle for calumny or reproach. Bride was +scarcely more sorrowful than he when it was found that +the agent was conniving at time-honoured abuses, and +setting on foot the ordinary methods for vote-catching. +Things that were looked upon as a matter of course by +Sir Roland, and received with a laugh and a shrug, +Eustace heard with a sense of repulsion which he certainly +would not have experienced a year before; and he worked +might and main to impose purer and more equitable +methods upon his subordinates, till it really began to be +said in Pentreath that Sir Roland deserved the seat if it +was only for his probity and upright dealing.</p> + +<p>Eustace had hoped to have Saul working with and for +him in these stirring days; but, to his disappointment, +and rather to his surprise, he utterly failed in bringing +his disciple into the arena of his own efforts. Saul was +working in his own fashion with a fierce resolution and +single-heartedness; but no argument or persuasion on +Eustace’s part would induce him to cast in his lot with +the candidate of the Castle party. It was in vain to say +that he was on the side of the great reform, that he was +fighting the battle of the bill; Saul would reply that Mr. +Morval was also doing that, and that <i>he</i> was a man +pledged to the cause of the people through thick and thin, +whilst everybody knew that Sir Roland was only advocating +the bill because he knew it was hopeless to oppose +it, and that at heart he was a Tory and an aristocrat. It +was quite enough for Saul that the Castle was supporting +him. No gentle words from Lady Bride, no good offices +from the Duke, had had the smallest effect in overcoming +the bitter hostility of this man towards the house of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span> +Penarvon. Eustace sometimes doubted whether he should +ever retain Saul’s confidence if he were to succeed to the +dukedom one day, as was probable. As it was, Saul +seemed able to dissever the man from his name and +race; but how long this might be the case was an open +question.</p> + +<p>At any rate, Saul would not work with Eustace, and he +worked on lines absolutely independent, if not openly +hostile. There was a section in the town which was quite +disposed to make an idol of the young fellow, who had +undergone a term of imprisonment and suffered so much +in the cause of justice and liberty.</p> + +<p>This section was not one which commanded many +votes; but the voice of numbers always makes itself felt, +and Saul was possessed of a rude eloquence which commanded +attention; and publicans began to find that, if +Saul was going to address a meeting in the evening, it +was sure to be largely attended by a class of customers +who brought grist to the mill. The operatives from the +mills—now finding that the hated machinery was a friend +rather than a foe to them, and almost all of them working +again there—rallied round Saul to a man. They liked +to have as their spokesman and champion a man of his +grand physique and of a power of expression so much in +advance of their own. They always came to hear him +speak, and he was gradually becoming something of a +power in the place. It is true that his addresses were of +so inflammatory a character that they were often followed +by a demonstration or a small riot which was alarming +to the more orderly inhabitants; but, at election times, +people made up their mind to disturbances, and tried to +regard them philosophically as the natural concomitants +of the crisis.</p> + +<p>The scenes presented by the hustings as the election +day drew on were increasingly lively and animated. +Eustace came home one day with his coat half torn off<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> +his back, having adventured himself rather unwisely +down a side alley where some considerable body of rabid +socialists had gathered to listen to one of their own +number denouncing anything and everything in the past +systems of government with a beautiful impartiality. He +often returned soiled and draggled, sometimes with a cut +on the face or hands. Sir Roland did not escape some of +these amenities either, and declared with good-humoured +amusement that it promised to be the most lively election +he could remember.</p> + +<p>The excitement became so acute as the day drew on, +that even Bride caught the infection of it, and was more +aroused from her dreamy life of silent meditation and +prayer than she had ever been before. Not that she +ceased to pray constantly and earnestly for the victory of +the righteous cause—whichever that should be; but she +spent less time in silent musing and meditation, and more +in the study of those papers and journals which told her +of the questions of the day, and the aim and ultimate +object of this hot party strife.</p> + +<p>When the polling day really came, and her father +settled to drive in in the coach, taking Eustace with +him—Sir Roland had his rooms at the hotel in Pentreath, +and had ceased to make headquarters at the +castle—Bride suddenly asked to accompany the party, +a request so foreign to her ordinary habits that both the +men looked at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>“It will be very noisy and rowdy in the town,” said +Eustace, “and we may get into some street-fights, and +have a warm reception ourselves. Would you not be +better and safer at home?”</p> + +<p>“I should like to see the town at election time,” +answered Bride, “and I should like to be with my +father.”</p> + +<p>The Duke was surprised, and said a few words to +dissuade her, but finding her really bent upon it, gave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> +way. He did not anticipate anything very different +to-day from what he had experienced at other elections, +and his daughter would go straight to the hotel +where Sir Roland’s committee-room was situated, and +would remain there till he drove out again. He himself +would go early to the poll and register his vote, +and then come back and await the news which from +time to time would be brought in. He did not intend +to remain late, to remain till the result was announced; +but he would spend a few hours in the place, and gain +a general idea how the fortunes of the day were going.</p> + +<p>The town presented an extraordinary appearance to +Bride, as the great coach rumbled through its streets, +ordinarily so quiet and silent and sleepy. The whole +place was alive. It seemed as though every inhabitant +of the town and neighbourhood was abroad in the +streets, and shouts and yells, hootings and cheers, +greeted the appearance of the ducal equipage as it +turned every corner. On the whole, however, the crowd +seemed jovial and good-tempered, and although Bride +shrank back sometimes in vague distress and alarm at +the sound of certain hoarse cries which assailed her +ears, she was aroused and interested by all she saw. +The carriage passed through the streets without molestation, +though with many needful halts on account of +the congested state of the traffic, till it stopped at the +hotel, and the Duke handed out his daughter amid the +cheering of a large crowd, which had gathered there +in the expectation of hearing some speeches from Sir +Roland. Bride was glad to hide herself in the building; +but was soon provided with a chair near the +window, from which she could look out into the market-place +below. Sheltered by a curtain, she could see +without being seen. The room opened by one of its +long windows upon the great square balcony formed +by the roof of the projecting porch; and from time<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> +to time Sir Roland, or one of his coadjutors, stepped out +upon this balcony and made a short speech, always +received with vociferous applause. When it was known +that the Duke had arrived, there were many shouts for +him; and at last he gratified the people by going +forward, and making a brief but able little speech, in +which encouragement and warning were blended in a +way that produced an obvious effect, and set the people +thinking.</p> + +<p>Eustace made a speech to which Bride listened with +undivided attention; and never for a moment did he +forget that she was listening, and seldom perhaps had +he spoken better, or so eloquently advocated his entire +belief in the use of the best and noblest weapons only, +in the noble cause to which they were pledged. When +he came in again, after being warmly applauded from +without, she gave him a glance which set his heart +bounding and his pulses throbbing; but he had no +time for speech then, as the Duke wished to go to the +poll at once, and he accompanied him to try and ward +off anything like personal attack or insult; for he was +by no means sure what Saul and his band of malcontents +were up to; and his own presence at the side of +his kinsman would be the greatest protection from any +disagreeable interlude.</p> + +<p>Bride remained in the hotel, sometimes watching the +animated scene without, sometimes exchanging courtesies +with the gentlemen of the county who came in +and out, some accompanied by their wives, who, like +Bride, had come to see what was going on, and who +were pleased to see the girl again after her long period +of seclusion following on her mother’s last illness and +death.</p> + +<p>Luncheon was spread in a room below, and partaken +of as the appetite or convenience of the guests suggested. +The Duke returned from the poll with tidings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> +so far favourable to their candidate. But it was too +early to feel any security; and the supporters of the +Viscount were rallying bravely round him, and talking +grandly of carrying the seat in the Tory interest in face +of all Radical and time-serving opposition.</p> + +<p>At two o’clock, however, things were still looking well +for Sir Roland, and better still at three. The Viscount’s +poll remained almost stationary now, and the Radical +candidate was left far behind. True, his supporters were +mainly those likely to register their votes later in the +day, but on the whole there was a feeling in the minds +of Sir Roland and his committee that the day was going +very well for them, and the cheering and enthusiasm +outside, whenever news from the poll was received, was +loud and increasing.</p> + +<p>But the Duke, though keenly interested in the contest, +was not desirous of remaining much longer. He +wished to get home before the mills ceased work, and +the operatives came pouring out. At any rate, he wished +to be clear of the town by that time; and when he was +told that to-day many of the mills were to close at four +o’clock, he quickly ordered his carriage to be got ready, +for there was not too much time to spare.</p> + +<p>It took time, with the yard so full of vehicles and +the stables so overcrowded, to get the great coach out +and equipped; and Eustace suddenly resolved that he +would at least make one of the party in it on its way +through the streets. The hands of the clock were +drawing rapidly on to the hour of four, and still the +coach could not be got free of the yard. Then a messenger +from the poll came tearing up with news of farther +advances for Sir Roland, and some more congratulations +and cheering had to be gone through, whilst the +crowd, surging up closer and closer round the hotel, made +egress for the moment practically impossible. Before +the horses were in and the start accomplished, the clocks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> +had boomed out the hour of four some ten minutes since; +and as Eustace looked out through the window at the +crowded state of the streets, and the threatening aspect +of the operatives swarming round them, he wished they +had cleared the precincts of the town some half-hour ago, +but was very glad he was in the carriage.</p> + +<p>They had turned out of the main thoroughfare, where +progress was almost impossible, on account of its proximity +to the polling booth, and were making their way down a +narrow alley, when a sudden sound of hooting and yelling +broke upon their ears, and Eustace, trained to such things, +detected a note of menace in it which he feared was +directed against the well-known carriage of the Duke. This +suspicion was heightened by the conduct of the coachman +on the box, who suddenly lashed his horses into a mad +gallop, as though the man felt that this was the only +chance of getting through some barrier suddenly raised +before them.</p> + +<p>This manœuvre was received with a howl and a yell. +The next moment, the carriage lurched violently, the +horses plunged and kicked in wild terror. Cries, groans, +and curses arose in deafening tumult around the carriage, +and Bride half started up, exclaiming—</p> + +<p>“They are trampling down the people. Eustace, stop +the horses! Tell the coachman to pull up! They must +not hurt the people! See that they do not! See if any +one is hurt!”</p> + +<p>There was no fear in her face, only a great compassion +and anxiety. But before Eustace could make any move +or answer, the horses had been brought to a standstill by +the hands of the mob, and the wild and enraged people +were yelling and surging round the carriage in a fashion +which could not but remind all its occupants of scenes +they had heard described as having taken place in France +during the days of the uprising of the populace there.</p> + +<p>Bride sank back in her seat, pale, but with a look of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> +quiet resolution, which bespoke the high courage of her +race. The Duke put out his hand and took his daughter’s +in its clasp, but remained otherwise perfectly quiet and +unmoved. His fine old face regarded the tumult without +a change or a quiver; his eyes looked quietly, though +rather sternly, out from beneath the pent-house of his +bushy brows, and his lips looked a little thin and grim. +The men on the box were making a gallant fight, laying +about them right and left with the great whip and with +the reins, whose buckled end made no bad weapon when +whirled round the head of some approaching ruffian. But +these demonstrations only provoked the crowd to wilder +fury, and Eustace knew not whether to open the door and +remonstrate with both parties, or reserve his words for +any attack likely to be made upon the party inside. It +was a terribly anxious moment for him, knowing as he did +the temper of the people, and the terrible lengths to which +angry passions will drive furious and disappointed men. +It was very plain that these turbulent malcontents had +heard that Sir Roland seemed carrying the day; and +their native bitterness towards all persons of rank and +station was intensified fourfold by the discouraging news +just made known.</p> + +<p>A large stone came crashing in through the window, +shivering the glass to fragments, and sending the sharp +morsels flying round the occupants in a most dangerous +fashion.</p> + +<p>“Come out of that!—give up your coach to proper +uses!” cried rough voices in every key. “Down with the +tyrants and oppressors! Down with all dukes and baronets +and fine gentlemen!”</p> + +<p>Eustace looked out of the window with flaming eyes.</p> + +<p>“Men!” he cried in a loud voice—and for a moment +his well-known face and voice arrested attention and +respect, “be men!—not brutes! There is a lady with us. +Respect her womanhood, if you cannot respect her station;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span> +and let us pass in peace. You do not make war on women. +Be men, and let us through. I will go with you if you +will; but not till you have promised not to molest this +carriage.”</p> + +<p>A mocking roar was the answer; those behind set it +going, and the whole crowd took it up.</p> + +<p>“You!—and what are you, pray?—a turncoat—a +deserter—a trimmer!”—and at that word a yell went up +transcending anything that had gone before.</p> + +<p>“Trimmer!—trimmer!—traitor!” was bawled and +yelled on all sides, and then there arose such a hubbub +as cannot be described, a hubbub in which no articulate +words could be detected, save oaths of blasphemous import, +which made Bride whiten and shiver as no sense +of personal peril could do. Eustace better analysed the +meaning of those shouts and yells and cries, and turning +to the Duke, he said, “I think we must leave the carriage. +If we were alone we might sit it out and brave them; +but we have a lady with us, and it will not do to provoke +them too far. They will stop short, I fully believe, at +personal violence, and there is a house just opposite where +they are making friendly signals to us, and will give us +shelter if we can reach the door. Bride, will you be +afraid to face the mob for one minute? They will howl +and yell; but they will not molest you—they shall not! +Come!—there is no time to lose.”</p> + +<p>Indeed there was not. A new sound arose, a sound of +more hooting and yelling, as though a new crowd was +upon them; and as this fresh noise smote upon the ears of +the mob round the carriage, it became mingled with a +new war-cry, and Eustace distinguished the shout of +“Saul Tresithny!—Saul Tresithny!” mingling with other +sounds.</p> + +<p>If indeed it were Saul coming upon them, he would be +most likely heading the wildest crew in the town. Eustace +looked suddenly pale but intensely resolute as he flung<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span> +open the door of the carriage and sprang out, before the +people were prepared for the action.</p> + +<p>“You shall have the carriage, men,” he said, “but make +way for this lady to pass;” and he gave his hand to +Bride, who came out with her simple air of quiet fearless +dignity, and stood for a second regarding the surging +crowd with such a great compassion in her eyes, that +those nearest involuntarily fell back, and not a sound +arose from any but the hinder ranks, as the Duke and his +daughter passed through the mob and gained the friendly +shelter of the humble house which Eustace had recognised +as a place where they would find shelter.</p> + +<p>Was it the fearless dignified bearing of the old nobleman, +or the gentle self-possession of the girl? Eustace +wondered, and could not say. All he knew was that for +the brief moment of the transit there was comparative +silence and tranquillity; and the Duke showed no sign of +nervous haste as he paused to direct the coachman and +footman to cease ineffectual resistance and to come also +within doors.</p> + +<p>Then he followed Eustace and Bride with firm and +quiet bearing, whilst just as the door closed behind the +whole party, the hootings and yells redoubled in fury, +mingling freely with the name which seemed to infuse +fresh life into the howling mob—the name of Saul +Tresithny.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b257.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b258.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII<br /> + +<i>THE DUKE’S CARRIAGE</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b001t.jpg" alt="T" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">TWO hours later Bride looked up with an eager +air, for she had heard the sound of a familiar +footstep on the stair, and knew that she should +have tidings at last.</p> + +<p>She was comfortably established in a small parlour over +a shop, and was making friends with a pair of solemn-looking +little children, who were strangely fascinated by, +though half afraid of, the pretty stranger lady. The house +which had opened its door to the Duke’s party—and had +had several windows broken in consequence—belonged to +some humble tradespeople, and they had put everything +in their house at the disposal of the Duke and his daughter, +and had done all in their power to make them comfortable +during the brief time which they had been forced to +remain prisoners, owing to the presence of the howling +mob without. Then when the crowd was diverted to some +other spot, and had left this little street empty, Bride had +still been left in the security of this humble abode, whilst +the Duke and Eustace made their way back to the hotel, +promising to return for her when the kidnapped carriage +should have been recovered, and they could make another +attempt to quit the town.</p> + +<p>Bride had passed these two hours somewhat anxiously—her +anxiety being for her father and Eustace, not for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> +herself. The grocer’s two big lads, who acted the part of +scouts, and ran in and out with items of news, reported +that there was much excitement and rioting going on in +the town now that all the mill hands were at liberty, and +the supporters of the Radical candidate going to the poll. +Sometimes sounds of distant yelling and hooting broke +upon the ears of the listening girl, and sent a thrill +through her frame. Sometimes there was a rush of +growling operatives down the narrow street where she +had found shelter, and for a moment her heart would +stand still in expectation of an attack upon this very +house; but the worthy people who had sheltered her +took it all very quietly, and were not at all seriously +disturbed. They said it was always so at election times, +and smiled at the notion of there being any danger to +dread.</p> + +<p>So Bride had sipped the tea brought to her, and begged +for the company of the two little children when their +mother was obliged to go to her duties below. The time +passed somewhat wearily and anxiously, but at last the +sound of a familiar footstep without warned her that her +time of waiting was at an end.</p> + +<p>The door opened and Eustace entered, his face pale, +his left arm in a sling, his clothes, though not exactly +torn, and evidently carefully brushed, showing traces that +their owner had been in some sort of skirmish or riot. +The girl sprang up anxiously at sight of him, her face +blanching a little.</p> + +<p>“My father——?” she began, her lips forming the +words, though her voice was barely a whisper. Eustace’s +smile reassured her.</p> + +<p>“He is quite safe. He will be here soon with a coach +to take you safely home. He has not been in any of the +troubles; he has been in the hotel ever since he left +you. We got there by the back way without any difficulty; +but the town was too disturbed for it to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> +advisable to attempt to drive out till some sort of order +had been restored.”</p> + +<p>“But you are hurt,” said Bride, with a look at the slung +arm; “what have you been doing?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is nothing,” answered Eustace, as he sat down to +tell his tale, for he had been on his feet the best part of +the day and was very fatigued; “only a little crushed and +mangled—no bone broken. I could not keep within +doors when so much that was exciting was going on +without, and I was in the thick of the <i>mêlée</i> once. +Poor Saul Tresithny fared worse than I. I am afraid +he will never walk again. They are taking him to +his grandfather’s house to be cared for: we thought +it was the best thing to do. Poor fellow! poor fellow!—such +a fine character run to waste! He might have +done much for the cause of liberty and advancement; +but he would not listen to aught save his own wild +passions.”</p> + +<p>Bride clasped her hands and looked earnestly at +Eustace.</p> + +<p>“Tell me what has happened,” she said breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“I will tell you as much as I know myself. You are +aware, of course, that to get possession of your father’s +carriage and drag all the Radical voters to the poll in it +was considered the most wonderful triumph over us and +our man. As soon as you were safely out of the way, the +mob turned its attention to the spoil they had confiscated. +A young blacksmith who could drive was put on the box; +the colours were torn from the horses and replaced by +others; and the equipage was sent dashing all over the +town, returning each time crammed inside and out with +the shabbiest and least reputable voters that could be +found, the snorting, terrified, foaming horses being goaded +almost to madness by the shouting and the blows they +received, and threatening again and again to become +altogether unmanageable.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>“Poor creatures!” said Bride softly; “I hope they +have not been hurt. My father would be grieved.”</p> + +<p>“I think they will not be the worse in the end. They +are on their homeward way now with their own coachman +driving them, and poor Saul lies groaning in the +torn and ruined carriage, being taken to his grandfather’s +cottage by the wish of the Duke. It is doubtful whether +he will live through the effects of this day’s work; +and your father wished him to be taken to Abner, as +the only person likely to exercise the smallest influence +over him.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! poor Abner!” said Bride, with compassion; and +looking again at Eustace, she said, “Go on, please; tell me +the rest.”</p> + +<p>“Well, as far as I understand the matter, it was like +this. Saul and his satellites were in possession of the +Duke’s carriage, and acted as a sort of bodyguard whilst +it made its journeys through the town. But as soon as it +was recognised by the other side as being the Duke’s +coach, and rumour spread abroad the report of how it had +been taken from his Grace and put to these vile purposes, +a counter-demonstration was at once organised. A +mob of men wearing the colours not only of Sir Roland +but of the Viscount, combined together to effect the +rescue of the carriage, and very soon this ill-fated vehicle +became the centre of a continuous and never-ceasing +furious riot. It still remained in the possession of Saul’s +men, but it was hemmed in by a crowd of enemies; and +though by sheer weight and dogged power of resistance +it was driven to and fro between the polling place and +the town streets, its progress became with each succeeding +journey more difficult, and the fighting around it +hotter and hotter.”</p> + +<p>“How extraordinary people are!” said Bride, with a +light shiver, “as though it did any good to make these +fearful disturbances and riots. Do they really think any<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> +cause will be benefited by such things? It seems all so +strange and sad.”</p> + +<p>“At least it seems the outcome of ordinary human +nature at such times,” answered Eustace. “I did not +know much about what was going on for some time, but +by-and-bye word was brought that the fighting over the +carriage was getting really rather serious. Once it had +been taken possession of by the rival rabble, and was being +borne back in triumph to the hotel to be put once more +at the service of its owner; but then Saul led a tremendous +charge with his roughs, and the fortunes of the day +turned once more in his favour. Things in the town were +getting so serious that some soldiers had been brought +in under Captain O’Shaughnessy, and were drawn up +in readiness not far off. But we all hoped there would +be no need for their interference, and I thought I would +go down and see what it was all about, and, if it was +possible, draw off our own adherents from the unseemly +riot.”</p> + +<p>“And that was how you got hurt?” said Bride.</p> + +<p>“Yes; perhaps I was foolish to suppose that one man, +and that myself, could do any good at such a moment; +but I think one has a natural desire to be in the thick of +everything, and I knew that I should not come to harm, +if Saul Tresithny could help it. I went down and out +into the street. The noise told me that the carriage could +not be far away, and very soon I had forced myself into +the thick of the fight, hoping, when I got between the +combatants, to induce Saul on the one side to draw off +his men, whilst I urged those of our own supporters who +had joined in the scrimmage to retire from the unseemly +disturbance. But things had gone much too far +for any pacific endeavours on my part. I do not know +exactly in whose possession the carriage was at the moment +when I reached it; and the press round it and the fighting +was so fierce and indiscriminate that I could hardly move<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span> +or breathe, let alone trying to make my voice heard. +And soon I was recognised by one great fellow as an +enemy, and a new element of fury was added to the +struggle; but what really made the danger, and caused +the damage at last, was a sudden shout raised at the back +of the crowd that the soldiers were coming.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” breathed Bride softly.</p> + +<p>“I suppose the man on the box of the carriage saw over +our heads that it was true, for he suddenly deserted his post, +and flung himself down to the ground; whilst the horses, +feeling the sudden jerk of the reins, and then the slackness +which followed, set to plunging and kicking wildly, +scattering the mob right and left, and knocking down +at least half-a-dozen of the crowd, as they swerved and +tried to turn, before bolting off in their terror. Saul +saw the peril to every one, rushed forward and made a +gallant spring at their heads; but he was knocked down +and trampled upon in a fearful way, before I and a few +others could come to his assistance and get to the heads +of the horses. When we brought them to a standstill at +last, I had got my arm crushed, I shall never know exactly +how; and the other fellows had all got bruises or cuts of +one sort or another. As for poor Tresithny, he lay on +the ground like one dead, his head bleeding, one foot so +crushed that I fear he will never walk again, and with +other injuries of quite as grave a character. But the +mob had scattered helter-skelter by that time, and the +soldiers, with their bayonets fixed, were quietly bearing +down through the street, clearing a path before them, +as a gale of wind clears away the fog wreaths through a +valley.”</p> + +<p>“They did not hurt the people—they did not +fire?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no; they behaved very well and good-temperedly, +for they were a good bit pelted and hooting at starting. I +heard. They just fixed their bayonets, and marched quietly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span> +on in rank, and the mob dispersed more quickly than one +would suppose possible. I think the fall of poor Tresithny, +and the rumour that he was dead, frightened and discouraged +the crowd, and perhaps they had had enough of +it by that time. At any rate, by the time the soldiers +reached us the street was almost clear; and after we had +soothed and quieted the poor horses, who were in a lather +from head to foot and quaking in every limb, they had +picked up Tresithny tenderly enough, and laid him in the +carriage, making a sort of bed for him there with all the +cushions. It did not matter then that the poor fellow +was bleeding, and that his clothes were covered with dust +and mud: the carriage was in such a state inside and +out that nothing could harm it more. When we had +placed him there, we led the horses to the hotel yard, and +your father was told everything, and came down to look +for himself at the state of the equipage, and at the prostrate +leader of the mob.”</p> + +<p>“And he sent him home to Abner?” said Bride, with +a soft light in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Yes. We got a surgeon to look at him without moving +him, and he bound up the wound on his head, and cut +away the boot from the crushed foot. He would not have +him taken out of the carriage or moved in any way till +he could be put straight to bed; and after the horses had +been groomed and fed, the coachman was called for, +and directed to drive young Tresithny to his grandfather’s +cottage, the surgeon going in the carriage with +him.”</p> + +<p>“Poor Abner!” said Bride once more; “but it will be +the happiest thing for him to have Saul under his own +roof.”</p> + +<p>“That is what your father said. So two soldiers were +told off to see the carriage safe out of the town, and there +is a sharp patrol of the streets being kept up to prevent +any more organised rioting. I think the disturbers of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> +the peace have had enough of it by this time. There is +the ordinary scrimmaging and hustling about the poll, +but that is quite a different thing from the desperate +fighting and blackguardism that was going on round +the Duke’s carriage. And now I have come to tell +you that you will soon be called for and taken home. +The hotel has furnished us with a coach to drive back +in, and Captain O’Shaughnessy himself will accompany us +out of the town to make sure there is no more rioting +about us.”</p> + +<p>“And how is the poll going?”</p> + +<p>“Well for us. Mr. Morval has polled a large number +of votes these past two hours, but Sir Roland still +holds his own. So far as one may guess till the end +has come, I should say he was quite safe for the seat; +though I think his majority will be considerably reduced, +as is natural, seeing how the party split. Things might +have been much worse under such circumstances.”</p> + +<p>The rattle of wheels below announced the arrival of +the promised coach, and Bride took her departure, after +having made acknowledgment of all kinds to the friendly +people who had given her shelter. She found her father +looking fagged and worn, but quiet and tranquil, and +the journey home was accomplished without any farther +disturbance.</p> + +<p>Early next morning news reached the castle that Sir +Roland had won the seat by a reduced though still substantial +majority. The other piece of news was that Saul +Tresithny had lived through the night, and, though very +much injured, might still survive, only that he must lose +his foot. It was so crushed and mangled and dislocated +that nothing could be done for it. If his life were to be +saved, the foot must go.</p> + +<p>Bride went down herself to see Abner and make personal +inquiries. The old man looked very pale and grave, +but was quiet and composed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>“It may be, my Ladybird, that the Lord has sent this +in mercy and not in wrath,” he said. “There’s many a +one as has found the door of the fold in the time of +weakness and sorrow and pain, that never could see it +when things were otherwise with him. It is better to +enter into life maimed than to lose the hope of salvation +for this life and the next. Pray God he will turn to +Him at last in this dark hour, when he could not make +shift to see the way before.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! I hope so!—I trust so,” said Bride softly. +“That is why I am so glad for him to be with you +and not amongst strangers. You can point the way; +you can tell him of the hope. When his life here +looks so dark before him, perhaps he will turn at last +to the hope of the glory and blessedness that will be +revealed in the kingdom. I do not see how men +can live without that hope, when the things of earth +fail them, and show how hollow and empty they always +are.”</p> + +<p>Abner smiled with a look on his face in which hope +and sorrow were strangely blended. He knew better +than this girl could do the hardness of the human heart +and the stubborn toughness of a nature like Saul’s, and +yet he would not despond.</p> + +<p>“The Great Gardener never takes the pruning-knife +but for the good of the plant He is about to prune,” he +said. “It’s hard sometimes to watch the living tree cut +away from the stem, but in days to come one sees and +knows why it was needful. We can but live in faith +that it will be so with these poor frail bodies of +ours.”</p> + +<p>“Does he know?” asked Bride, with a little shiver.</p> + +<p>“No, he has never come to his senses yet, and I am +hoping he won’t until it is all over. The doctor will +come this afternoon with another gentleman, and then +’twill be done quick and sharp. I’m hoping and praying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> +it will all be over before the poor lad comes rightly to +himself.”</p> + +<p>Bride spent that day mostly alone, and much of it in +prayer. Her father, wearied out by the fatigues and +excitements of yesterday, kept to his room, and Eustace +had gone into Pentreath to see Sir Roland.</p> + +<p>It was evening when a message from Abner was brought +to the girl to tell her that the operation was over successfully, +and that the patient was sleeping quietly under +the influence of an opiate.</p> + +<p>That evening she and Eustace dined alone together, +the Duke preferring to keep still to his room. It was a +soft clear evening in May, and the sunlight lay broad +and bright upon the sparkling water as they passed out, +at Eustace’s suggestion, upon the terrace, and sat there +watching the beautiful pageantry of the evening sky. +Eustace looked pale and tired, and there was a touch of +gentle solicitude in Bride’s manner towards him that sent +quick thrills through all his pulses. Those weeks just +passed had not been too full of other interests and excitements +to blind Eustace to the fact that Bride was still +the one woman of all others for him. He had not spoken +a single word of love to her all this while, and she gave +no sign of remembering what had once passed between +them; but the thought of it was strong in his mind +to-night, and he was wondering with an intensity of +feeling whether he might venture upon expressing some +of those many thoughts and hopes which always came +crowding upon him in the presence of his cousin when +they were alone together.</p> + +<p>She had told him all she knew of Saul—they could +talk of him, at any rate; and both were keenly interested +in the young man, and deeply grieved at the terrible +injury he had received.</p> + +<p>“If it had been in a good cause, it would have been +easier to bear, I think,” she said. “But a street-fight—in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> +the display of brute violence and unmeaning +hostility—ah! it makes me so sad even to think +of it!”</p> + +<p>“I think it was better than that, Bride,” said Eustace. +“I think, when Saul sprang at that great pair of plunging +horses, he was trying to hinder mischief and hurt for +others. I think he was trying to save me, for one, for +I was very near. He had been fighting and leading +rioters; but I think he fell in the cause of humanity +and charity; I think he deliberately sacrificed himself for +others.”</p> + +<p>Bride’s eyes lightened and glistened.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am glad of that—I am very glad. I must tell +Abner.”</p> + +<p>There was silence for a few minutes between them, and +then Eustace said in a low voice—</p> + +<p>“Bride, you will let me know how it goes with him, +and what sort of a recovery he makes. Your father is +not very likely to mention it in his letters; but will you +write now and then yourself, and tell me how it fares +with Saul?”</p> + +<p>She looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>“Then are you going, Eustace?”</p> + +<p>“I must go soon, quite soon, Bride. I do not know +exactly when this new Parliament will first meet. The +polling in the country is not over yet, but it soon will +be now; and there is much to learn and to discuss +before the House meets. I cannot delay much longer, +now that I have a seat of my own.”</p> + +<p>“No, I had forgotten for a moment. Of course, you +are a member of Parliament now.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her rather searchingly.</p> + +<p>“Bride—tell me that you do not despise me for +it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, Eustace, I do not despise you. I hope I do +not despise anybody. I think it is very sad that men and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> +women should ever hate or despise each other. We have +all our faults and our imperfections. We ought to be +very gentle and loving and patient.”</p> + +<p>He wished she would be just a little less impersonal +in her replies; and yet he could not wish her other than +she was. He put out his hand and laid it softly on +hers.</p> + +<p>“Bride,” he said, “you have not given me the promise +I asked for.”</p> + +<p>She did not take her hand away, but let his lie upon +it as they sat together in the soft evening light. She +turned her sweet face towards him. It was not flushed, +and was very calm and tranquil; yet, deep down in those +liquid dark eyes there was a look which sent the blood +coursing through his veins in a fashion that made him +giddy for a moment. Yet he showed nothing outwardly, +and she saw nothing to alarm her or drive her into +herself.</p> + +<p>“What promise?” she asked softly.</p> + +<p>“To write to me sometimes when I am far away.”</p> + +<p>“To tell you about Saul?” she added quietly. “Yes, +Eustace, I will do that very willingly.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Bride; but do not let your letters be restricted +to news of Saul only. You will tell me of other +things. You will tell me of St. Bride, St. Erme, of the +St. Aubyns, Mr. Tremodart, of yourself.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell you any news that I think will interest +you,” she answered. “But you know there is little to +happen at Penarvon. Nothing ever happens to me that +would interest you.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, you are wrong there,” he answered with suppressed +eagerness; “everything that happens to you is +of the greatest possible interest to me.”</p> + +<p>“I hardly think so,” she said musingly; “for +you see one day here is outwardly just like another. +Except at such times as these, there are no external<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> +events; and I do not think you take account of +any but outward things—no one can speak of what +is inward and spiritual to one who does, not understand.”</p> + +<p>“And you think that I do not understand such things, +Bride?”</p> + +<p>Her glance into his face was very steady and searching.</p> + +<p>“I do not <i>think</i> you do—yet,” she answered; “I may +be wrong, but we generally feel those things. You have +an intellectual life—a much deeper and fuller one than +mine; but I think you have starved your spiritual life for +a great many years. I think you have tried to judge all +things spiritual by your intellectual standard, and all the +things that cannot be made to agree with your philosophy +are set aside as superstitions. I often think that the +pride many men take in being above superstition is one +of the subtlest and most destructive weapons the devil +has ever forged. What is superstition? I have been told +that long, long ago, it was almost the same in meaning +as religion. It certainly means a belief in the unseen—in +the powers of good and evil, in the mysterious actions +of God—and of the devil—with regard to the children of +men. But everything too deep or mysterious for human +comprehension may be called superstition by those whose +spiritual insight is blunted, and who have no experience +of God’s dealing in the hearts of individual men. I +know that hundreds and thousands of clever men call it +superstition when they hear of men and women believing +in special providences of God—believing that prayer +is answered for such things as rainfall or drought or +epidemic sickness. Others call it superstition when they +are told of the coming kingdom of Christ and His +Second Coming in glory, of which the Apostles constantly +wrote and spoke, and which long ago the Early Church +hoped to see. It is all so very, very sad to me when I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> +think of it. Ah! Eustace, if you could but see the +beautiful truth of God with eyes unclouded by the mists +of your worldly philosophy! I sometimes think and +believe that you will do so yet; but I do not think men +can ever shake off the scales from their eyes until they +begin to know that scales are there. Whilst they think +it is their eyes that see, and their souls that embrace +true wisdom, how can the Spirit of God find a home in +their hearts? It is those who pray, ‘Lord, that I might +receive my sight!’ who feel the Saviour’s hand laid upon +them, and go away seeing.”</p> + +<p>Eustace sat perfectly still, with his eyes fixed upon +Bride’s face. A quick strange thrill went through him +at her words, as it had done many times before when she +was speaking with him. But during these past busy +weeks there had been no talk of this sort between the +cousins; and Eustace felt with a sensation of surprise, +and almost of exultation, how far more responsive was +his heart now when such words fell on his ear, than it had +been months ago—a year ago, when she had sometimes +spoken in this strain, and he had smiled to himself at her +mystic fanaticism.</p> + +<p>She had certainly come gradually to a clearer appreciation +of what was going on in the world, and to a juster +estimate of the good and the evil of the movements of the +day. He often felt her increased power of sympathy +and comprehension, and rejoiced in it; but had he too +changed on his side, and were they really growing nearer +together in all things? He no longer felt disposed to +smile when she spoke words like these; rather he longed +for her purity of faith and singleness of heart, and felt +that she possessed a reserve of power and strength that was +in many respects greater than his own. Where he would +be led away by self-interest, she would see with perfect +clearness of vision. Where he would be influenced by a +partisan spirit to fail in discrimination, and adopt the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> +evil with the good without analysis or reflection, she +would detect at once all that was impure and unworthy, +and refuse contact with it, even at the price of personal +loss. It was, perhaps, impossible for a man in the vortex +of political life and a keen party struggle to keep his +heart perfectly pure, and always be found on the side of +right, and the opponent of wrong in every phase; but at +least she had inspired him with this desire as he had +never known it before; and he began to understand—what +once he would not have believed—that she gained +this insight and this purity of heart and motive through +the workings of that spiritual nature which had been such +a perplexity to him before.</p> + +<p>“Bride,” he said at last, in a strange voice, which he +hardly knew for his own, “you almost persuade me to +ask for that power of vision myself.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes lighted with a strange radiance, though they +were not turned to him, but out over the sea.</p> + +<p>“I think it is never asked in vain,” she said softly, “if +it is asked in humble repentant faith.”</p> + +<p>“You will have to teach me, Bride, for I am very +ignorant in all these things.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot teach you,” she answered softly, “though, +perhaps, I can help you with my prayers. Only the +Spirit of God can guide you into all truth. He will lead +you to the cross of the Crucified One first, and then by +gradual steps to the knowledge of the Risen, the Ascended, +the Glorified Lord, for whose bright and glorious +coming we and all creation are waiting in patient confidence +and joyful hope.”</p> + +<p>He was silent. He could not follow her yet into these +regions, but faint stirrings of the desire to do so were +working in him. Once he had thought, “I must draw +her down to earth and my level;” now, the unconscious +aspiration of his mind was, “Would that I might follow +her there!” But all he said was—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>“Do you pray for me, then, Bride?”</p> + +<p>“Always,” she answered softly; and although Eustace +went in having spoken no word of love (as he had almost +intended at the outset), he felt that he and Bride had +never been so near together as at that moment.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b273.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b274.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> + +<i>ABNER’S PATIENT</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b032e.jpg" alt="E" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">EUSTACE went back to London about ten days +after the election at Pentreath. Parliament was +to meet in June, and there was much of importance +to be discussed beforehand. He and Sir +Roland travelled in company, and the Duke’s farewell was +warmer and more cordial by many degrees than it had +been on the occasion of his last departure. As for Bride, +there had been something so sweet and subtly tender in +their relations during the past few days, that the parting +with her was wonderfully hard. Eustace lay awake the +whole of his last night at the castle, thinking of her, +and wondering how he could bear to say adieu; and when +they met in the morning, her eyes were heavy and her +face was sorrowful, as though she too had kept vigil +and dreaded the coming day. In point of fact, Bride had +kept vigil in a very literal fashion, for she had been +kneeling in prayer for Eustace very many hours of that +summer’s night—praying that he might be delivered +from any and all of those perils which might happen to +the body whilst travelling through an excited country; +but above all, praying that he might be kept safe in those +assaults of evil that might assail and hurt the soul—that +he might be strong to resist temptation, that he might be +the champion always for good, yet discriminate and discern<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> +the moment when evil crept in, and where party +spirit took the place of the true desire after the best welfare +of the nation. She understood far better than she +had done a year ago the difficulties of that strife, and +where once she would have stood aloof with a sense of +pained disappointment and disapproval, she would now, as +it were, stretch forward a helping hand, and strive to show +the firm path amid all the quagmires of strife and emulation. +As she clasped hands with Eustace for the last +time, and their eyes met, some strange electric current +seemed to pass between them, and, as though in answer to +spoken words, he said, in a low moved tone—</p> + +<p>“I will be true—I will be faithful—I will strive to fight +the good fight, and you will be my best helper.”</p> + +<p>She did not answer with her lips, but her eyes made +amends for that. Suddenly Eustace came one step nearer, +put both his hands upon her shoulders, and bent his head +and kissed her on the lips. For a single second she started, +as though the touch of his hands had alarmed her, but the +next moment she looked straight into his eyes, and yielded +her lips to his for that last salute.</p> + +<p>“God be with you, Eustace,” she whispered; and as the +young man rode away he felt he understood for the first +time in his life the true meaning and application of the +simple and oft-used phrase, “Good-bye.”</p> + +<p>Bride stood where he had left her, in the middle of that +anteroom where their parting had been exchanged. Her +face was slightly flushed; there was a strange gleam of +vivid light in her eyes; the sweet mouth was tremulous +with emotions strongly stirred. The Duke, who had +witnessed the parting between them, looked at her with a +veiled inquiry in his eyes. Bride, coming back to everyday +life, saw that look and answered it.</p> + +<p>“It is not what you think, papa,” she said very +softly, “yet I think Eustace and I belong to one another +now. I do not know how else to say it. It seems as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span> +though there was something linking us together stronger +than ourselves.”</p> + +<p>A slight smile lighted the old man’s face.</p> + +<p>“I am glad to hear that, my child,” he said gently. +“I am far better pleased with Eustace this time than I +was before. He has greatly grown in wisdom and moderation—greatly +improved. I believe he will turn out +one of those men whom the world needs. He is after +all a Marchmont, and the Marchmonts have generally the +gift of government in some form or another. A young +and ardent temperament may be led astray at the outset; +but the experience of life gives ballast; and there seem to +have been many influences at work upon Eustace, moderating +his impetuosity, and showing him the reverse side of +the shield.”</p> + +<p>“I think he is learning a great deal,” answered Bride +softly; “I am glad you feel the same about him.”</p> + +<p>She could not settle to her ordinary avocations that day. +There was a subtle sense of exhilaration and happiness in +her pulses which made active exercise needful to her. +She had her pony saddled, and started to ride along the +cliffs to St. Erme. She wanted to be alone for awhile to +think and muse upon the sudden sense of new happiness +that had come into her life. She had visits to pay at St. +Erme’s which had been waiting for a day of leisure. +Eustace had filled much of her time of late, but now +she must learn to do without him. She rode quietly onward, +with the sunshine about her, and the soft breeze +fanning her cheek and lighting her eyes. There came +over her, almost for the first time in her life, a sense of the +beauty and joyousness of it, even in this fallen world of +sorrow and sin. Before she had thought, almost exclusively +at such times as these, when alone with nature and +at peace with herself and all the world, of the brightness +and glory of the Kingdom. Her heart had had little here +to feed itself upon, and she had dwelt in the thought of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span> +the glory which shall be revealed. But to-day she felt as +though she was experiencing a strange foretaste of that +glory and happiness in this inexpressible sense of sweetness +and love. An atmosphere of joy seemed to enwrap and +envelop her. She scarcely understood herself or her +heart; but she was happy with a happiness that was +almost startling, and in her head some words seemed to +set themselves to the joyous hymn that nature was singing +all the while.</p> + +<p>“I will be faithful—I will be true!” ... “God be +with you!”</p> + +<p>Her absorption of mind did not hinder her from paying +her visits and entering with full sympathy and tenderness +into the trials and troubles of those she had come to see. +The sight of her was always very welcome to the simple +people who had known her from childhood, and who +regarded her something as an angel visitor, as they had +regarded her mother before her.</p> + +<p>Her visits paid, she was about to turn homewards, +when, as she was passing the gate of the rectory, she +encountered Mr. St. Aubyn riding forth on his sturdy cob. +They exchanged greetings gladly.</p> + +<p>“I am on my way to St. Bride,” he said, smiling. “Shall +we go in company? or are you coming to pay a visit to +my wife?”</p> + +<p>“I think I will ride back with you,” said Bride, “and +see Mrs. St. Aubyn another day. It will be too hot to be +out with comfort if I linger longer. Are you coming to +the castle?”</p> + +<p>“My errand is to your gardener’s cottage. My good +friend Mr. Tremodart has asked me to visit young Tresithny +in his terrible affliction. He seems to close his heart +and his lips against all the world. My kind friend at the +parsonage thought I might have more success in dealing +with him; but I fear me the time has not yet come when +the words of man will avail aught.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>Bride’s face was very sorrowful.</p> + +<p>“It seems so sad,” she said softly, “so very, very sad. +Oh, I am grieved for Abner. He looks aged and bowed +like an old man, yet his faith never fails. He is a lesson +to us all. ‘The child of many prayers,’ he calls Saul, and +he will not give up hope. But it must be terrible for him +to have to sit by and hear the poor young man shouting +out all sorts of horrible imprecations and blasphemies in +his delirium and pain. No one can tell whether he quite +knows what he is saying; but his words are terrible to +hear. Widow Curnow has come to help to nurse him, and I +hear almost more from her than from Abner. I hoped he +would have been able to see my cousin Eustace before he +went to London; but he has never been enough himself, +and all excitement has to be avoided. I believe Eustace +has the most influence upon him of any person in the +world. He has won his affection, and I fear poor Saul +knows more of hatred than of love towards the world +at large.”</p> + +<p>“He has had a very sad life,” said the clergyman sorrowfully, +“a life of spiritual revolt against the very conditions +of his existence, as well as a mental and physical +revolt against the wrongs of a world which can never be +set truly right, save by the advent of One to whom in +their blindness these would-be reformers never look for +guidance, still less join in the cry for Him to appear and +take the reins of government Himself. It is sorrowful to +think of—that the very men most forward in the struggle +to do justice to their fellow-men, are often the most careless +about giving God His dues. They will render to +Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s, but will they render to +God the things that are God’s? How often, as one hears +them speak or reads the words they are speaking to the +nation, does one say in one’s heart, ‘Lord, open their eyes +so that they may see!’ for philanthropy alone will never +raise or purify the world; it must be joined with a living<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span> +faith in a living God, and the first love and service of our +hearts must belong to God; the second, given to our +neighbours.”</p> + +<p>Bride looked with a sudden questioning wistfulness +into the clergyman’s face.</p> + +<p>“Mr. St. Aubyn, do you not think that a man who loves +mankind with a true and unselfish love must somewhere +in the depths of his heart have a love for God also, even +though he may not know it? Is not love in its essence +Divine? and can there be a true and pure love that does +not in some sort own allegiance to God?”</p> + +<p>Mr. St. Aubyn’s face was serious and thoughtful.</p> + +<p>“Pure and true love is indeed Divine in its essence; +but there is a carnal and earthly love too, which is but a +travesty of God-given love, and burns to its own destruction. +I think man often confuses these two loves, and +sometimes calls the lower one the higher. Perhaps no +eye but God’s can really distinguish altogether the gold +and the dross, but we can sometimes judge the tree by its +fruit. How often do we see evil fruit springing from a +tree which we have thought to be good! We are deceived +sometimes, but our Heavenly Father never!”</p> + +<p>“Yes! I think I know what you mean. I have seen +something of that, as in poor Saul’s case. The fruit is a +sorrowful crop, and yet he means nobly and well, I am +sure. But there is no love of God in his heart; and +yet I sometimes wonder whether perhaps the love for +man does not come first with some: ‘If he loves not +his brother whom he hath seen, how shall he love God +whom he hath not seen?’ There are words very like that +somewhere.”</p> + +<p>“True, God’s love is so beautiful and infinite, and His +patience with His erring children so inexhaustible, that He +will do everything in His power to lead their hearts to Him. +We are taught and entreated throughout the Bible to seek +<i>first</i> the kingdom of heaven; to give the whole of our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span> +strength, and mind, and heart, and soul to God in loving +submission; to be living members of His Body first, and +then members one of another; but as though He would +make provision for the weakness and frailty of the flesh, +and the infirmity and lack of faith in human nature, we +find here and there just such loving touches as show us +that our Father will lead us to Himself by every possible +means; that love for our brethren shall be a stepping-stone, +if used aright, towards that higher and holier love; though +perhaps the truer meaning of the words is to teach us +that no love for God can be really pure and sincere if it +does not carry with it love for our brethren too. The +greater must embrace the less; and a man cannot truly +love God who is in bitterness with the brethren.”</p> + +<p>They rode along in silence for a time then, each thinking +deeply. Mr. St. Aubyn was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Marchmont has left you then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he started for London this morning.”</p> + +<p>“I knew it was to be soon. He came to say good-bye +a few days ago. I was greatly pleased by the talk we +had on that occasion.”</p> + +<p>Bride looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>“I did not know Eustace had been to see you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he came and sat above two hours with me. We +had a most interesting conversation. I almost wish you +had been there to hear.”</p> + +<p>Bride was silent. She would not ask the nature of +the conversation. She knew that Mr. St. Aubyn would +tell her all that he felt at liberty to reveal.</p> + +<p>Presently he spoke again, a slight smile playing on his +lips.</p> + +<p>“Long ago, as you know, we had a talk, part of which +you overheard, in which Mr. Marchmont betrayed how +deeply the philosophy of the destructive rationalists had +eaten into his soul. I told him then that he would never +be able to rest where he was; that even the philosophers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span> +and students who had been so glad to destroy were already +finding rest impossible, and were beginning a constructive +form of rationalism, in which scope was allowed for an +objective as well as a subjective Divinity, and a semblance +of Christian faith creeping back, because men invariably +find at last that they cannot do without it, although they +too often content themselves with half-truths, or very +small fragments of the whole truth. Well, he did not +agree with me then; but it is wonderful what this year +has done for his spiritual life. It is like talking to another +man. It was wonderfully inspiring to mark the work of +the Spirit in that heart. But I dare say you have found +that out for yourself.”</p> + +<p>There were tears of joy in Bride’s eyes. She did not +turn her head as she answered—</p> + +<p>“I have hoped so—I have thought so; but I have been +afraid to ask or to hope too much.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! you need never fear that. Are we not bidden to +‘hope and believe all things’? Is anything too hard for +the Lord?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, I think not,” answered Bride softly.</p> + +<p>“It made me think of our talk once about forgiveness +and the Father’s love,” continued Mr. St. Aubyn musingly. +“It is such a beautiful mystery—that yearning love over +all these myriads of disobedient children. And yet never +an individual instance of spiritual grace comes before us, +but we realise how true it is that the Father has gone +forth to meet the erring son whilst he is still a great +way off, and is leading him so tenderly home, sometimes +almost before the wanderer has realised it himself.”</p> + +<p>Bride made no reply: her heart was too full; and so +in happy communion of spirit the pair rode down the +hill, and through the gate of the castle grounds.</p> + +<p>“You will come and see my father when you have +been to see Saul?” said Bride. “He would be sorry for +you to go without paying him a visit.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>Mr. St. Aubyn promised, and Bride rode on to the +castle, and had changed her riding gear for a cool white +dress before the clergyman appeared. His face was grave, +and he looked troubled and compassionate.</p> + +<p>“I have seen him,” he said, in reply to Bride’s look +of inquiry, “I have seen him, and I found him stronger +in body than I anticipated after all I have heard of +the injuries he received. The doctor was leaving as I +rode to the door, and said he was making a wonderful +recovery. But I fear that the recovery is only one of +the body. The soul and spirit are terribly darkened. It +seems almost as though the powers of evil had so taken +possession there that there was no room for the entry of +God’s light. I could not even speak the words I would +have done. I saw that to do so would be only to provoke +more blasphemies. May God in His mercy do something +to soften that hard heart, for only He can do it!”</p> + +<p>It was the same tale all the way through where poor +Saul was concerned. Impenitent, rebellious, cursing his +own fate and crippled condition, and cursing yet more +bitterly those he held responsible for the accident—the +tyrants who set soldiers upon poor and harmless people, +to trample them to death beneath their iron heel for no +other offence than claiming the rights of human beings +and citizens of the commonwealth. He refused all visits +save those from such men of his own fashion of thinking +as came to condole with him, and to fan the flame of his +bitterness and wrath. Abner soon ceased to try and +reason with him. He wrestled ceaselessly in prayer for +him, as indeed did many of his neighbours, who were wont +to meet together at intervals for the reading the Scripture, +and that prayer for the speedy coming of the Lord, which +had become one of the leading features of the faith of +the little community of St. Bride. It was indeed all that +could be done for the unhappy young man; and so soon +as he was able to get about on crutches, he announced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span> +his intention of going back to Mother Clat’s, and resuming +his old life with the fishermen.</p> + +<p>There was indeed one very good reason why he should +do this. In a boat his lameness would matter comparatively +little. He could manage sheet and tiller whilst +he sat quietly in the stern; and although there would +be moments when he would feel somewhat keenly the +loss of his foot and his crippled condition, yet this would +be not nearly the same hindrance to him on the water as +it would be on land.</p> + +<p>A collection had been made for him in the town by +a number of those who regarded him as a victim and a +martyr. This amounted to a sum sufficient to enable him +to purchase a little cutter of his own, that happened to +be going cheap at a neighbouring seaport town. Saul’s +mates having heard of it, went to look at it, and finally +negotiated the purchase, which made him the proud +possessor of this fast-sailing cutter, which was significantly +said to be far faster and more responsive to wind +and tide than any of the Customs boats in these parts.</p> + +<p>And now a new life began for Saul. He had always +done some smuggling along the coast with his friends the +fishermen; but now it became a regular trade with him. +Fishing was the merest excuse for the more serious occupation +of his life; and as his health and strength returned +with this free life on the sea, so did his ferocious hatred to +all restraints of law and order grow and increase in him. +He delighted in his illicit traffic far more because he was +a breaker of the law than because it brought him large +gains. He began to be a notable man along the coast; +appearing now at this place, now at the other; landing +his goods with a skill and daring that made him the idol +of the fisher-folk all around, and the terror of the custom-house +officers, who tried in vain to catch him, and began +to think he must bear a charmed life, so absolutely impossible +did they find it to get sight of him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>As for the gentry round, there was a very mixed feeling +in their minds with regard to the defaulter and his +occupation. They had nearly all of them cellars of +excellent brandy and wine that had never paid duty, +and were by no means desirous of seeing the illicit traffic +too rigidly put down. They winked at it, if they did not +actually encourage it; and it was well known that half +of them would always buy smuggled goods and ask no +question, in spite of all that the indignant officers could +urge to the contrary.</p> + +<p>The country was soon in a state of pleasurable excitement +with the news that the Reform Bill had successfully +passed the Commons, and had only to go through +the Upper House to become law. The ignorant people +considered the triumph already assured, and began to +wonder why something wonderful did not immediately +happen to change the current of their lives and issue in +a new prosperity and affluence. But others shook their +heads, and said the Lords would be certain to throw +it out, whilst some argued that they would not dare, +when the mind of the country had been so emphatically +declared.</p> + +<p>The Duke was very doubtful as to the result.</p> + +<p>“The Duke of Wellington will fight it tooth and nail,” +he said to those who asked his opinion, “and I think he +will carry the House with him. My kinsman, young +Marchmont, tells me that if the Lords refuse to pass it, +they will urge the King to make such a number of new +Whig peers as shall suffice to carry it in the teeth of all +opposition. His Majesty is very averse to such a step, +though anxious for the passage of the bill. It remains +to be seen what will happen. But I do not think the +Iron Duke will give way.”</p> + +<p>All this talk sufficed to keep the country alive and +excited through the early autumn months. Eustace +wrote regularly, sometimes to the Duke, sometimes to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span> +Bride; and she wrote to him according to promise, telling +him the news of the place, her own particular history, +and the doings of Saul. Eustace himself wrote to Saul +from time to time, and received answers from the wild +young man always breathing a spirit of personal loyalty +and devotion; but nothing which passed induced him +for one moment to give up his wild life. His boat was +always speeding between the shores of England and +France. He was seldom at home, and when in the +cottage on the beach, seldom to be spoken with by any +of those who would gladly have tried to approach him +for his own good. Bride once or twice encountered him, +and spoke gently to him; but though he stood before her +silently and with an outward aspect of respect, he would +scarcely give her back a word, and only appeared to +listen to her with any willingness when she told him +of Eustace.</p> + +<p>He sometimes went into Pentreath, and addressed +meetings there, in response to invitations from old associates; +but his personal interest in the place and in +politics seemed to have flagged just now. The passing +of the measure upon which his heart had been set took +away from him his sense of grievance, and robbed that +side of his character of its main element. He shared the +half-ignorant expectations of the lower classes, that as +soon as the Reform Bill became law some great change +in the condition of the people would result immediately +from it; and he supposed this change was already going +on in other places, and would soon reach the West-Country. +If that was so, his task was over for the present, until +some new agitation was set on foot. Meantime the free +and lawless life he was leading was all-sufficient for him. +He was the hero of St. Bride’s Bay, the most successful +man all along the coast, and was not only making money +fast, but was enjoying his life as he had perhaps never +enjoyed it before.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>But the old class hatred which had long burned within +him was still smouldering as fiercely as before, and only +wanted a breath of wind to fan it to a raging flame.</p> + +<p>Nor was this breath long wanting; for in November +came the news that the Lords had thrown out the bill, +that for the moment it was dead, could not pass into law, +that the battle would have to be fought all over again +(as most people thought), and that the Lords had shown +themselves once and for all the fierce and inveterate +enemies of the rights and liberties of the people.</p> + +<p>A great wave of anger and revolt swept all through +England when this thing became known. Perhaps never +had she been so near to revolution as that dark November, +when the people, eagerly awaiting the advent of +some wonderful and semi-miraculous change in their +condition, received the news that the measure which +was to ensure this had been trampled under foot, and +cast ignominiously to the four winds of heaven by the +peers of the realm. A cry of execration and hatred +ran through the country. Riots and incendiary fires +broke out wherever the news penetrated. At Pentreath +there was a hot demonstration of popular fury; and Saul +had never so raged against his physical infirmity as when +he found himself forced to remain at home, eating his +heart out in silence, whilst the other men of his persuasion +marched with the rioters, and committed acts of +lawlessness which gratified their bitter hatred, without, +as it happened, doing very much permanent harm in the +place.</p> + +<p>But the passion that can vent itself is less dangerous +than that which is locked up without an outlet, and +seethes and smoulders till something suddenly causes +a violent explosion. Could Saul have gone with his +comrades, perhaps more immediate mischief might have +been done, since his was always the most daring spirit; +but possibly the blackest chapter of his life might not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span> +have been written, and he might have been saved from +the depth of iniquity into which he speedily fell.</p> + +<p>There is an anger so terrible in its intensity that it +works like madness in the brain; and this anger is +generally the fiercest when it exists between class and +class, and results in reality less from inherent ill-will +between the two parties concerned, than from a constitutional +and insurmountable difficulty in mutual understanding.</p> + +<p>This hatred (which has been at the bottom of many +of the world’s tragedies) was now burning with such a +white heat of silent fury in Saul’s breast that there +began to creep into his sombre eyes a light like that of +madness. He would sit up late into the night brooding +over the dying embers of the fire, and thinking thoughts +that hardly bore putting into words. The wild weather +had for the present put a stop to his cruises. He felt +the change from the mild autumn days, and often had +pain in the maimed member which had suffered from the +surgeon’s knife. He was not able to get out much in +the cold and wet, and this constant brooding and fierce +silent thought were almost enough to turn any man’s +brain.</p> + +<p>“Revenge! revenge! revenge!” such was the burden +of his thoughts; and as he sat pondering over his wild +yearnings after vengeance, there would steal into his +mind, like whispers from the evil one, memories of what +desperate men in past days had done to bring about ruin +and disaster. Great ships, containing the wealth of the +proud and prosperous, had been shattered on these cruel +rocks, and high-born men and women had found a grave +in the dark cruel waters, a grave less cruel and dark +than the one which engulfed hundreds and thousands +of their helpless brothers and sisters through their own +greed and selfishness. Would it not be a righteous retribution +to lure some such vessel with its living freight<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span> +upon those cruel “Bull’s Horns”? He knew his comrades +would aid and abet such a notion, if he propounded it, for +the sake of the plunder and the gain it would bring. But +for him the plunder was nothing; he would not touch the +gold. But he should feel he had struck a vengeful blow +against the rich and the mighty of the land, and then +perchance the fever-thirst of his soul would be quenched, +and he could rest again.</p> + +<p>And thus, brooding and planning and meditating, the +dark days slipped by one by one, and the light of madness +and unquenchable hatred burned ever brighter and +brighter in Saul’s eyes.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b288.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b289.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX<br /> + +<i>THE BULL’S HORNS</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b094i.jpg" alt="I" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">IT was so fatally easy.</p> + +<p>St. Bride’s Bay lay between two very dangerous +points along the coast. Its south extremity was +bounded by the long jagged reef known as the +Smuggler’s Reef, whilst its northern limit was formed by +the jutting cliff upon which Penarvon Castle had been +built, and by those two huge crescent-like projecting rocks, +significantly termed the Bull’s Horns, just below the +castle walls, with the treacherous silting, shifting bed of +quicksand between.</p> + +<p>For many years now in one turret of the castle there +had burned from dusk till dawn a strong, steady light, +warning vessels along the coast of this dangerous spot. +The lantern-tower, as it was commonly called, had a separate +entrance and staircase of its own, and the light was +watched and tended by a disabled fisherman, who had +been appointed by the late Duchess to the office when +unfit for more active work. Although growing old and +feeble now, he still clung to his task, and had never been +found unfaithful to his post, or unable to fulfil the light +duties it imposed upon him.</p> + +<p>The light in this lantern-tower warned vessels of their +exact position, and was a most valuable beacon to +them; for as soon as ever they had passed it, it became<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span> +necessary (if they were passing down Channel) to set the +ship’s head almost due east, so as to avoid a dangerous +cross current round some sunken rocks out at sea, and +to keep for some short distance very near in-shore, the +water being at this point very deep, and free from any +rock or reef.</p> + +<p>The plan fermenting in the darkened mind of Saul +Tresithny became thus fatally easy. A small body of +determined men had only to go to the lantern-tower +after the household at the castle had retired to rest, +overpower the old custodian, extinguish the light, and +light a false beacon farther along the coast—a little to +the south of the Smuggler’s Reef—and the thing was +done. Any vessel beating down Channel would see the +light, would clear it, and then turn sharp towards the +land, and upon a dark and moonless night would strike +hopelessly, and without a moment’s warning, upon those +cruel Bull’s Horns, from whose deadly embrace there +would be no escape. The vessel would shatter, the +crew and passengers would be sucked into a living tomb. +The men bent on plunder would have time to secure +for themselves a certain amount of the cargo, but before +morning dawned the vessel would in all probability have +disappeared utterly and entirely. Saul’s act of purposeless +vengeance would be accomplished, and he told himself +that he should then have some peace.</p> + +<p>Of the hapless crew—men drawn from his own class—he +would not allow himself to think. They always went, +more or less, with their lives in their hands, and sooner +or later a large proportion met a watery death. They +must take their chance. It was not with them he was +concerned. What he longed to do was to strike a blow +at wealth, prosperity, and rank. He was unable to +take any part in the turbulent scenes enacting in the +country round; but if he could lure to its fate some +great vessel with its freight of passengers—one of those<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span> +new vessels which worked by steam-power, that were +just beginning to make headway and to appear along the +coasts, to the astonishment and superstitious terror of the +fishermen—if he could lure one of these vessels, which +always carried wealthy passengers, who could afford to +pay for the extra advantages of speed and independence +of contrary wind, he felt he should be striking a blow +at the hated world of wealth and opulence; and little +recked he of any personal peril he might run were the +thing found out.</p> + +<p>As to his own fate, he was perfectly indifferent. A +fierce despair mingled with his reckless hatred of his kind. +He would willingly lay down his own life if he could by +those means compass the ruin of his enemies. He would +sometimes sit and ponder, with a fierce brooding envy, +over the story of the death of Samson, with which Abner’s +reading of the Scriptures to him in his childhood had +made him familiar. If only he could achieve an act of +vengeance like that! What a glorious death it would be! +But there was no such way open to him of avenging +his nameless wrongs against the world. He could only +accomplish an isolated act of malevolent cruelty and +destruction. But he brooded over that, and thought out +its details, till he seemed in his feverish dreams to see +the thing enacted over and over, till every detail was +familiar. He used to dream that the vessel had struck, +that she was going to pieces fast, that he and his comrades +were out in their boats, listening to the cries and +shrieks of the drowning wretches, always avoiding giving +the help so agonisingly demanded, pushing savagely from +the gunnel of their boat any frantic hand that might cling +to it, and laughing with fiendish joy as the wretched victims +sank with a gurgling cry, or were washed within the +region of the treacherous quicksand.</p> + +<p>Such dreams might well work a sort of madness in a +brain inflamed with hatred, and a mind all but unhinged<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span> +by illness, and perpetual revolt against the conditions of +life. Saul had every detail planned by this time with +almost diabolical precision. All that was wanted now +was the right moment and the right vessel. He had his +scouts out along the coast. He knew they would receive +warning of the approach of such a vessel as would afford +a rich prey for plunderers and a rich vengeance for him.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>“Papa,” said Bride one morning, seeking her father +with an open letter in her hand, and a soft flush upon +her cheek, “I have a letter here from Eustace. He +thinks of coming to the castle to tell us all about the +bill, and what has been happening in London, and what +is likely to happen.”</p> + +<p>The Duke looked up with something approaching +eagerness in his face. He had missed his young kinsman +during these past months, and was beginning to feel +it pleasant to have Eustace about the place, even though +they were by no means of entire accord in their views +or in their outlook on life. Although he seldom spoke +on the subject, the old peer had begun to feel his hold +upon life rather uncertain. He had never recovered the +shock of his wife’s death, and he experienced from time +to time an uneasy sensation in the region of the heart, +which made him suspect that that organ was in some sort +affected. His father had died suddenly of syncope at +seventy years of age, and the Duke remembered hearing +him describe sensations exceedingly like those from which +he began at times to suffer himself.</p> + +<p>He could not therefore but feel a wish to see something +settled as to Bride’s future. She was very much alone in +the world, and would be in sore need of a protector were +her father taken away. He had long felt that a husband’s +loving and protecting care was what she truly needed, and +rather blamed himself for having kept her so entirely from +meeting with men of her own age and station. But if his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span> +own heir, this young enthusiast Eustace, of whom he was +really beginning to think well and to regard with affection, +had really succeeded in making an impression upon the +girl’s sensitive heart, nothing could be more entirely satisfactory +from a worldly standpoint. No one knew better +than the Duke how well fitted his daughter was to be the +future Duchess of Penarvon, and how greatly she would +be beloved by all, as indeed she was already. He had +entertained this hope when first Eustace came amongst +them, and had then allowed it to fall into abeyance, fearing +how the young man’s character would turn out, and +that he and Bride would never agree. But hope had +revived upon the second visit, when Eustace had shown +a different calibre of mind and a greater moderation and +thoughtfulness. The hearts of both father and daughter +had changed towards him, and again a hope had awakened +within the Duke’s heart that he should still live to see +his daughter the wife of the man who must succeed him +at Penarvon.</p> + +<p>Thus this announcement of Bride’s came upon him +with a note of gladness, and he looked at her with unwonted +animation.</p> + +<p>“A visit from Eustace? That is good hearing. I had +written to ask if he could not spend his Christmas with +us. Is this his answer?”</p> + +<p>“I think he can hardly have got your letter. It does +not sound like an answer. But he speaks of a wish to +see Penarvon again, and to consult with you about the +political outlook. He knows he will be welcome, from +other things you have said. He will get your invitation, +I dare say, before he starts. I hope he will be with us +then. It is hard to be happy at Christmas—hard not to +feel it a sorrowful instead of a joyful day; but it will help +us to have Eustace. I am glad he will be with us.”</p> + +<p>“Does he say when he will come?”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly; he does not know when he can get away.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span> +He seems very busy; but he says he thinks he shall come +by water. The roads are so very heavy after the long +autumn rains.”</p> + +<p>“It may be easier and more comfortable,” said the +Duke, “but I have always preferred land travelling myself. +Contrary winds make water journeys too tedious +at times, and I am not a lover of the sea.”</p> + +<p>“I think Eustace is. And he says he will not come if +he has to take a sailing-vessel; but he thinks he can +travel by one of those wonderful new boats which go by +steam-power. He has been in one before. He went to +Scotland so once, he told me. Last time he was here he +was very full of it. He thinks there will soon be nothing +else used for long voyages. It is wonderful to think how +they can move through the water without sails or oars. +He says in his letter he thinks he may soon have a chance +of coming along the coast in one of these strange and +wonderful vessels, and will be put ashore either at Plymouth +or Falmouth, and come on to us from there.”</p> + +<p>“That would not be a bad plan. I myself have sometimes +wished to travel by these new boats; but I hardly +think I shall do so in my time. In yours they may +become more common. Eustace was telling me of them +himself. If I knew where he would land, I would travel +down to meet him and see the ship myself.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! I wish we did know,” answered Bride, with +brightening eyes; “I would go with you, papa, and see +the wonderful new ship too.”</p> + +<p>The Duke was studying her face attentively.</p> + +<p>“You are pleased to think of having your cousin here +again, Bride?” he asked tentatively.</p> + +<p>Her face was very sweet in its soft increase of colour, +but her eyes were steady, and truthfully fearless.</p> + +<p>“I think I am very glad,” she said softly. There was +a pause after this which neither seemed exactly to know +how to break; but at last Bride said in a different tone,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span> +“And I am glad for another reason too. Eustace is the +only person who has any influence over poor Saul Tresithny. +It seems as though he were the only person in +the world that Saul has ever loved. He does love him. +His name is just the one thing that will rouse him to +listen to Abner, or which wins him a look from me if +I try to speak to him. Whatever harm Eustace may +have done Saul in the beginning—and I fear he did help +to rouse in him those fierce and evil passions which have +worked such havoc of his life—at least he has won the +only love of a heart that seems closed to all the world +besides; and Abner thinks as I do, and Mr. St. Aubyn +also, that no soul is quite dead, no spirit altogether beyond +hope of reclaim in which the spirit of love yet burns, +however feebly and fitfully. Eustace always believes +that it was to save him from being trampled down by the +sudden turning and plunging of the horses that day in +the crowd, which made Saul spring at them, and almost +cost him his life. If so, there must be a vein of gold in +his nature somewhere; and I always think that Eustace +will find it some day, somehow. Poor Saul! He looks +most terribly haggard and wild and miserable. Everybody +else has failed to touch him; but I do think Eustace +may succeed when he comes. He had to leave last time, +before Saul had recovered consciousness enough to bear +the excitement of a visit.”</p> + +<p>“I trust it may be so, for the sake of the unhappy +young man himself, and of his patient and heroic old +grandfather. Abner’s faith is a lesson to us all. May +God send him at last his heart’s desire!”</p> + +<p>It was so seldom that her father spoke thus, that sudden +tears sprang to the girl’s eyes; and instead of answering, +she laid her hand softly on his shoulder, the mute caress +speaking more eloquently than words. For a moment +there was silence between them, and then the Duke asked—</p> + +<p>“Shall you let Saul know that Eustace is coming?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>“I shall tell Abner. I never see Saul now. He can +do as he thinks best; but I believe he will decide to +say nothing, but let Eustace come upon him quite unexpectedly, +before Saul knows anything about his being +here, or has had time to harden his heart, as he might try +to do, even against Eustace, if he were prepared beforehand. +I think with such natures as his it is better to +give no time for that. But Abner will know best.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>“Now’s our chance. Her be beatin’ down Channel. +The lads ’a sighted she round t’ corner. Her’ll be passin’, +in an hour. ’Tis zo dark’s a hadge out o’ doors, and ’twill +be cruel cold bimbye. The bwoys are all out ready with +the false light. We’m goin’ to put out t’other light, +then we’ll be all ready.”</p> + +<p>The light leaped into Saul’s sombre eyes as this news +was brought by a pair of breathless and excited fishermen, +after more than ten days of anxious watching. So soon as +the last moon had begun to wane, a close watch was established +all along the coast, and had been continued on +every dark night since; and as all the nights had been +wild and dark, the watch had never been relaxed. The +watchers kept their look-out from a little cove not more +than four miles off as the crow flies, but situated just +where the coast made a great bend, so that the coasting +vessels had to make a great détour, and took a considerable +time getting round the point, especially with a +raging north-westerly gale driving up Channel as on to-night.</p> + +<p>“Be she a zailin’ ship?” asked Saul.</p> + +<p>“Naw, her be one o’ they new-fangled ones wi’ smoke +querkin’ out of her middle. Yu’ll be gwoin’ to the +bwoat, Zaul, mappen, and get she out. Us’ll be a’ter +yu quick’s us can. ’Twidden tak’ us long to put out +ol’ Joey’s light.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll go tu the boat,” answered Saul, seizing his crutch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span> +“She’s all ready at her moorin’s. Yu’ll find me there +when yu’ve changed the lights. I’ll watch for yu tu +come. I s’pose it’s pretty quiet in the bay?”</p> + +<p>“Ess zure. Win’s tu northerly tu hurt she. Us wunt +keep yu long waitin’. Coome on, lad. Us is bound vur +tu be sharp.”</p> + +<p>The men hurried off through the driving rain and bitter +wind of midnight upon their diabolic errand; and Saul, +with a look upon his face which spoke of a purpose +equally diabolic, limped down to the shore, seeming to see +in the dark like a cat, and took up his place in his own +stout and seaworthy little boat.</p> + +<p>It was what sailors call a “dirty night,” a stiff half-gale +blowing, and scuds of rain driving over, making the +darkness more pitchy whilst they lasted. There was no +moon, and the sky was obscured by a thick pall of low-lying +cloud. It was the kind of night just suited to a +deed of darkness and wickedness, such as the one about +to be perpetrated.</p> + +<p>Saul, with a face that matched in gloom and wildness +the night itself, sat in his boat with his eyes fixed steadfastly +upon the gleaming light in the lantern-tower of the +castle, that strong and steady light which shone out over +the waste of waters like a blessing as well as a beacon. +All at once, even whilst he watched, the light suddenly +flickered and went out, whilst at the very same instant up +sprang another light, equally steady and strong, on the +other side of the bay, which, after flickering for a few +moments, settled down as it were, and burned on with a +fixed and calm radiance.</p> + +<p>Saul’s face, turned towards it, seemed to catch a momentary +gleam. His dark eyes glowed and flashed in their +hollow caverns. His hands clenched themselves convulsively +upon the tiller by which he sat. There was in +his fierce heart a throb of triumphant satisfaction which +made life almost a joy to him at that moment. He felt a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span> +spring of life well up within him, such as he had not +experienced for months. After all, so long as vengeance +remained to him, life was not altogether devoid of joy.</p> + +<p>The sound of voices approaching from the shore warned +him that his confederates were approaching. Some came +from the castle, others from the neighbourhood of the +false light they had kindled. In all there were a dozen +of them, stout fierce men, bent on plunder, and caring +nothing for the loss of human life, like too many of their +race all along the coast in those days.</p> + +<p>Some of these men pushed off in a second boat, others +joined Saul in his small cutter. They carried no lights +with them, nor did they do more than row out into the +bay. Once safely off from shore, they lay still on their +oars, and listened and watched intently, talking in low +tones to one another from time to time, but mostly +absorbed in the excitement of expectation.</p> + +<p>All at once out of the darkness hove a light, out beyond +the Smuggler’s Reef, where the false light was burning, +and a stilled exclamation of triumph burst from all—</p> + +<p>“That be she!”</p> + +<p>Then deep silence fell again, and the men held their +breath to watch her course. She went slowly by the reef; +they could hear the throb of her engines in pauses of the +gale; and then suddenly they saw her lights shift—she +had fallen into the trap—she was turning inwards. In a +few short minutes more she would strike upon those cruel +horns, and be dashed to pieces before them, without the +chance of escape. If they struck outside the rock, there +would be more spoil and prey; but it might be safer for +the wreckers if she went within the extended horns and +grounded there. Then the quicksands would suck down +all traces in a very short time, and none would know +the fate of the missing vessel, which would be supposed +to have met her death through the failure of the new-fangled +machinery.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>Onward, ever onward, came the doomed ship, riding +fearlessly through the angry sea, secure of the course she +was going. She had slowed down a little in turning, but +the engines were at work now at full power. Her light +was very near. The men in the boats almost felt as though +their close proximity would be observed....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Crash!</span></p> + +<p>It was an awful sound. No man of those who heard +it that night ever forgot it, and it rang in Saul’s ears +for many a long weary day, driving him well-nigh to +madness.</p> + +<p>One terrific splintering crash, and then an awful sound +of grinding and tearing and battering. The ship’s lights +heaved up and fell again in a terrible fashion, and amid +the shrill whistling of the gale there rang out a wail of +human anguish and despair, and then hoarse loud voices, +as if in command; though there was no distinguishing +words in the strife of the elements.</p> + +<p>Motionless, awed, triumphant, yet withal almost terrified, +the wreckers sat in their boats and listened and +waited. It needed no great exercise of knowledge to +tell them that the great vessel had heeled over and was +settling—settling slowly to her end; that there could +be no launching of boats—no hope for any on board +unless they were stout and sturdy swimmers and well +acquainted with the coast. The vessel had actually impaled +itself, as it were, upon the cruel sharp point of +one of the horns. The water had rushed in through +the ruptured side, and almost at once the great floating +monster had heeled over, and, though partially upheld +by the rocks, was being battered and dashed in the +most fearful way, so that no living being could long +escape either being drawn down to a watery death, or +battered out of all human form upon the cruel jagged +rocks.</p> + +<p>At first a shriek and a cry of human anguish would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span> +rend the silence for a moment, and then sink again. +But now many moments had passed and no such sound +had been heard. Moments grew into minutes, and +perhaps a quarter of an hour passed thus in watching +the one light rising and falling as the vessel rose on +the crests of the waves only to be dashed down again +with renewed fury, whilst the rending of timbers and +snapping of spars told a tale that was intelligible enough +to the fierce men only a stone’s throw from the doomed +vessel.</p> + +<p>At last they deemed they had waited long enough. +From the very nature of the catastrophe, it was unlikely +there would be many survivors. All who were below +must have perished like rats in a trap, and the few +on deck would quickly have been swept overboard. +It was time the plundering began, else there might be +little left to plunder. As it was, there would be peril +in trying to rifle the hull; but these men knew what +they were about, and producing their dark lanterns, +they cautiously approached the floating mass, and after +due precautions, scrambled one after another upon her, +and commenced a rapid but cautious search.</p> + +<p>With this sort of thing Saul had no concern. He +knew that his comrades must be gratified in their +thirst for plunder, but his work had been accomplished +when the great vessel struck without hope of succour. +As the larger boat could not approach too nearly to +the wreck, all the men had gone off in the smaller one, +and were to bring to him from time to time such valuables +as they could find and secure. Twice already had this +been done, and the men reported that there was more still +to come, and that they might make a second journey to +the wreck perhaps, if she would only hold together +whilst both the laden boats put ashore and came out again +empty. His comrades were daring and skilful, and ran +less risk than they appeared to do in thus treading the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span> +decks of the vessel. She had lodged now, and though +still swept by heavy seas, was not tossed about as she +had been at first. The tide was falling and had landed +her fast upon a serrated ledge of rock. Unless she +broke up, she would lie there till the next tide dashed +her off again and sucked her into the quicksand. But +as the water fell, more and more booty became accessible. +The greed in the men’s hearts rose with what they found. +They told themselves that this night’s work would make +them rich for life.</p> + +<p>But Saul would not leave the spot. A curious fascination +held him rooted to it. When the boats were filled +and the men insisted on going, he said he would get +upon the wreck and await their return there. The wind +was abating. The sea was running less high. It was +clear to experienced eyes that for some hours at least the +vessel would lie where she was, and that there would be +no great peril in remaining on her. Saul was not a man +easy to thwart or contradict. His comrades raised no +objection to what he proposed. It was his affair, not +theirs, and they helped him to a station on the deck +and left him. They left a light with him—it would +serve them as a beacon in returning.</p> + +<p>Saul sat where he had been placed and watched them +row away, their light growing fainter and fainter over the +great crested waves. He sat alone upon the shivering, +heaving wreck, pondering on the night’s work, and on all +he had seen and done. He pictured the scene that these +decks must have witnessed but one short hour ago, and +thought of all the dead men—and fair women, perhaps—lying +drowned and dead in the cabins beneath his feet. A +savage light came into his eyes. A wild triumphant laugh +rang out in the silence and the darkness. He thought +for a moment of trying to get below and looking upon +the dead faces of his foes—men and women he had hated +for no other cause than that they lived in a world that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span> +was for him a place of evil and oppression, and deserved +to die for the tyranny and oppression of the race they +represented to his disordered imagination.</p> + +<p>But he did not go. For one thing, his lameness hindered +him; for another, there was something almost too +ghastly even for him in the thought. But as he sat brooding +and thinking of it all out in the cold and the darkness +of the night, well might he have been taken for the +very spirit of the storm, sitting wild-eyed and sullenly +triumphant in the midst of all this destruction, gloating +over the death of his fellow-men, and picturing the +ghastly details with the fascination of a mind on the +verge of madness.</p> + +<p>Suddenly an object floating in the water, quite near to +the vessel, took his eyes, and roused him from his lethargy. +In another moment his experienced and cat-like +eyes had grasped its outline, and he knew what it was.</p> + +<p>A human creature—a man, in all probability—supported +in the water by a life-belt, for he could see the +outlines of head and shoulders above the crests of the +waves. Well could Saul guess what had happened. +This man—sailor or passenger, whichever he might be—had +been on deck when the ship struck. He had had +the good fortune and presence of mind to secure a life-belt +about him during the few minutes that the ship kept +above water, and probably struck out for shore when +washed from the deck. In all probability he had quickly +been dashed against the rocks and deprived of consciousness, +and the ebb of the tide had dragged and sucked him +back from the shore and in the direction of the wreck. +A little more and he would be washed upon the shoals of +treacherous quicksand—and then!</p> + +<p>A sudden fierce desire came upon Saul to see the face +of this man. He was floating almost close to the wreck +now, rising and falling upon the heaving waves without +any motion save what they endowed him with. Saul<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span> +turned and possessed himself of his lantern, and moving +cautiously to the very edge of the wreck, turned the light +full upon the floating object in the water.</p> + +<p>Then the silence of the night was rent by a wild and +exceeding bitter cry; and in the midst of the darkness +and terror of that winter’s night, the soul of Saul Tresithny +suddenly awoke, amid throbs of untold anguish, +from its long lethargy and death. In one moment of intense +illumination, in which for a moment he seemed +wrapped in flame—scorched by a remorse and despair +that was in essence different from anything he had experienced +hitherto, he saw his past life and the crime of the +night in a totally new aspect. It was a moment not to be +analysed, not to be described; but the impression was +such that its memory was graven on his mind ever after +in characters of fire. It was as if in that awful moment +something within him had died and something been born. +Heart and soul, for those few brief seconds in which he +stood mute and paralysed with horror, were crowded with +all the bitterness of death and the pangs of birth. Yet +it was scarce five seconds that the spell held him in its +thrall.</p> + +<p>What was it that he saw in that heaving waste of +waters?</p> + +<p>The face of the one man that he loved. The face of the +only human creature whom he had thought on as a friend. +The face of Eustace Marchmont!</p> + +<p>And he—Saul Tresithny—had lured his only friend, +and the one being he loved and trusted—to a terrible and +hideous death.</p> + +<p>It was as he realised this that the awful cry broke +from him, and after that the five seconds of paralysed +waiting and watching that seemed like an eternity to him.</p> + +<p>Then in the midst of that unspeakable agony there +came one whisper as of hope—the voice of an angel—penetrating +the terrible despairing anguish of his soul.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>“Perhaps he is not yet dead. Perchance it may be +given you to save him yet. But lose not a moment, else +your chance may come too late.”</p> + +<p>When Saul heard that voice, he hesitated not one +second. Flinging off his heavy pilot-coat, and casting a +rope round him, which he fastened to a broken mast, he +plunged without a moment’s hesitation into the sea, +striking out for the floating object now just being carried +beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp.</p> + +<p>Saul had always been a strong and bold swimmer, but +since he became maimed and lame and enfeebled, he had +seldom been in the water save for the purpose of launching +his boat or getting it in, and he had done no swimming +for many months. Still there was no difficulty +in reaching Eustace and getting a firm grip round his +neck. The life-buoy supported the double weight well; +but when Saul strove to strike out in the direction of the +ship, he found that the ebb of the tide was carrying them +both farther and farther away. Struggle as he would, he +could get no nearer, but saw the light as it were receding +from him, and knew that the ebb was sucking them little +by little towards those terrible quicksands close at hand, +which if they touched, their doom was sealed.</p> + +<p>When would the rope be payed out and stop them? +He had not guessed how long it was when he had tied one +end about his waist and fastened the other about the +broken mast. Would it never become taut, that he could +try hauling himself and his comrade in? And even +where they now were they might touch the sand any +moment with the fall of the tide. It was constantly +changing and shifting. No one knew exactly where it +would lie from day to day and week to week.</p> + +<p>A sense of cold numb horror fell upon Saul. He was +growing faint and giddy. A whisper in another voice +now assailed his ears.</p> + +<p>“Save yourself at least—and leave him to perish.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span> +Likely enough he is dead already; why risk your life for +a corpse? Without his weight you could easily make the +ship. Save yourself, and leave him to his fate. What is +he to you?”</p> + +<p>Saul’s senses were leaving him fast, ebbing away in a +deadly faintness that made even the terror of his position +more like a dream than a reality. But even so the words +of the tempter fell powerless upon his ears. His answer +was to set his teeth and close his embrace more fast +around his friend.</p> + +<p>“If he dies, I will die with him!” was the unspoken +thought of his heart.</p> + +<p>A sudden jerk told him that the rope was all payed +out. Had he strength to pull it in again? Rallying his +failing powers with an almost superhuman effort, and still +keeping his arms clasped about Eustace, he got hold of +the rope behind his back, and bit by bit he pulled upon +it, drawing the double burden slowly—oh! how slowly and +painfully!—inch by inch towards the wreck.</p> + +<p>The whole of his past life seemed to rise up in review +before him without any volition on his own part—his +happy childhood with his grandfather in the gardener’s +cottage—Abner’s words of loving admonition and instruction—the +teaching he had imbibed almost without knowing +it, and had deliberately thrust from him later on. +Then he seemed to see himself at the farm, working early +and late with Farmer Teazel’s men; his brief but ardent +courting of Genefer seemed like nothing but a dream; +whilst the sudden appearance of Eustace Marchmont into +his life was stamped upon his soul as in characters of fire. +This man had called him friend—had taught him, cared +for him, put himself on an equality with him—had taken +his hand as brother might the hand of brother. And he—Saul—had +brought him to <i>this</i>—had perhaps done him +to death! It must not—it should not be!</p> + +<p>A noise of rushing was in his ears. His breath came<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span> +in laboured gasps. His heart seemed bursting; his eyes +were blinded, and could see nothing but a floating, blood-red +haze. In laboured gasps of agony the words came +from him—words of the first prayer which had ever +passed his lips since the days of his childhood—</p> + +<p>“Lord, have mercy upon us! God, give me strength +to save him!”</p> + +<p>And even with those words on his lips his consciousness +failed him; black darkness swallowed him up.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b306.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b307.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX<br /> + +<i>BRIDE’S VIGIL</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b111b.jpg" alt="B" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">BRIDE was awakened from sleep by the sound +of a voice.</p> + +<p>“Bride! Bride! Oh, my love, farewell! God +grant we meet again in the eternal haven of +rest! Farewell, my love, farewell!”</p> + +<p>The voice sounded so loud in her ears that the girl +started wide awake in bed, and found herself sitting up, +gazing across the dimly-lighted room, in the expectation +of seeing some one beside her.</p> + +<p>But there was nothing. The room was empty, save +for her own presence. The fire was not yet out, and +the night-lamp on the table in the corner burned with +a steady ray. Outside, the voice of the storm wailed +round the corners of the house; but Bride was too well +used to the voice of wind and water to think she had +been deceived by that. There was nothing in the voice +of the gale to-night different from what she was used +to hear wherever the winter days had come. Often and +often the tempest raged with double and treble power +about the exposed castle, and yet she was not disturbed. +What, then, had happened to-night?</p> + +<p>She passed her hands across her eyes, as if to clear +away the mists of sleep.</p> + +<p>“It was Eustace’s voice!” she said in her heart, and +a light shiver ran through her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span>Perhaps she had been thinking of Eustace at sea +before she slept, for her dreams had been of a ship +ploughing through the waves. She could not recall all +that she had dreamed; but she was vaguely conscious +that her visions had been uneasy ones of terror and +peril. She could not be sure whether she had dreamed +of Eustace: everything was confused in her mind. But +that voice calling her name through the darkness had +been utterly different from anything that had gone before, +and had effectually aroused her from sleep.</p> + +<p>“Is he in peril? Is he thinking of me?” she asked +herself; and even as she put the question she rose +from her bed and began mechanically to dress herself; +for there was only one thing now possible for Bride, +and that was to pour out her soul in prayer for the +man she loved—the man she believed to be in danger at +this very moment. Why that conviction of his peril came +so strongly upon her she could hardly have explained. +She had had no vivid dream; she had gone to rest with +no presentiment of evil. That dream-cry was the only +cause of her uneasiness; but the conviction was so strong +that there could be no more sleep for her that night. +She was absolutely certain of that, and she quickly +dressed herself, as though to be ready for a call when +it came; and when she had stirred the fire into a glow, +and had trimmed and lighted her larger lamp, she knelt +down beside the little table whereon lay her books of +devotion, and the Bible which had been her mother’s, +and laid bare her soul in supplication and prayer for +the man she now knew that she loved, and whom she +fully believed to be in peril to-night, though whether this +peril were physical or spiritual she could not tell.</p> + +<p>And yet it mattered not, for God knew, and He would +hear her supplication, and answer it in His own way. +Bride did not know whether Eustace had yet learned +to pray for himself; but she had been praying so long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span> +that there was nothing strange in this long and impassioned +prayer for him to-night. How the time passed +the girl did not know; nor did she know what it was +that prompted her at last to go to the window and draw +aside the curtain to look out into the night.</p> + +<p>When she did this, however, she became aware that +the darkness without was something unwonted, and for +a moment she could not understand the cause of this. +There was no moon, and the sky was obscured by a wrack +of drifting cloud; why should there be anything but +black darkness? and yet it was not always so, even on +the pitchiest nights. And then a sudden cry broke from +her pale lips—</p> + +<p>“The lantern-tower is not lighted to-night!”</p> + +<p>That was it. That was what she missed—the faint +refulgence she was accustomed to see shining from the +turret where the great lamp always burned. What had +happened? Had the old fisherman neglected to come? +or had he been negligent of his charge and suffered the +lamp to go out? She felt sure the light must have +been burning as usual earlier in the night. It was +lighted at five now, and numbers of persons would have +noticed had it not been lighted, and news would certainly +have quickly reached the castle. No, it must be that +the old fisherman had gone to sleep, and had omitted to +fill up the lamp, which had burned down and gone out. +And ah! suppose some vessel even now was beating down +Channel, and anxiously looking out for the beacon! +Oh, suppose some vessel was already in peril for want +of the guiding light! Suppose that vessel were the one +in which Eustace was journeying to them! Ah!—was +that the meaning of that cry? Had it indeed been +sent as a sign—as a warning?</p> + +<p>With a sense of sudden comprehension Bride turned +back into the room and hastily took up her lamp. +Without waiting to summon any other person—without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span> +a moment of needless delay—she made her way along +the dark still corridors, where the heavy shadows lay +sleeping, but woke and fled away like spectres at her +approach; through the blank silence of the great house +she stepped, followed silently by the faithful hound, who +always slept at her door, till she reached a heavy oaken +door, studded with brass nails, and fastened on the inside +with heavy bolts and clamps, that led from the castle +into that corner turret which had for so many years been +given up to the beacon light and its custodian.</p> + +<p>Bride used as a child to go frequently into the tower +with her mother. Latterly she had been much less often, +but she was familiar with the fastenings of the door, +and knew her way to the upper chamber where the +great lamp burned.</p> + +<p>The place was perfectly dark as she entered, and as +silent as the grave; but as she ascended the spiral +staircase which led to the chamber where the great +lamp burned, she was aware of a peculiar moaning sound, +she hardly knew whether human or not, and a thrill of +horror ran through her, though she did not pause in her +rapid ascent.</p> + +<p>The hound heard it too, and sped past her with a +low whimper of curiosity, bounding upwards and into +the room overhead, where he broke into a loud bay.</p> + +<p>Bride was keenly excited, too much excited to feel any +personal fear; moreover, she knew that if the dog had +found any unknown occupant in that upper chamber, he +would have flown at him at once and pinned him, and +she should be warned by the sounds as to what was +going on. Hastily mounting the last flight, she entered +the room, which, as she fully expected, was in utter +darkness. The sound of inarticulate moaning grew louder +as she approached, and the moment her lamp threw its +beams within the chamber, she saw the old custodian +lying on the floor, gagged, and bound with cruel cords, his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span> +head bleeding a little from some cuts upon it, and his face +drawn and white.</p> + +<p>In a moment she had sprung to his aid. The hound +was sniffing round the room with lashing tail and a +red light in his eyes, uttering from time to time a deep +bay, as though asking to be let out to follow on the track +of the evil-doers who had forced a way into the tower to +do this deed of darkness.</p> + +<p>But Bride could not attend to him then. She got a +strong knife out of the old fisherman’s pocket, and in +another minute he was free. He rose, looking dazed and +shaken; but his first thought was for the extinguished +light.</p> + +<p>“They put her out zo zoon’s they’d gotten me down,” +he explained in trembling tones, as he set about to kindle +the beacon, not able even to drink the contents of the +cup Bride had mixed for him (there was always refreshment +kept in the room for the watcher on these cold +nights) till he had set the lamp burning again. “They +bwoys ban’t a’ter no gude. Lord help any ship that’s +passed to-night. A take it they will ’ave abin an’ gone vur +tu light a valse light zumwheeres ’long t’ coast. Yu can’t +remember they days, my laady, when ’t wuz common +’nuff for the bwoys tu du that. But his Grace and your +mawther, they zet theerselves agin it: and a’ter vour +or vive o’ the worst o’ the lot ’ad abin clapped intu +clink, and t’ light zet burnin’ heer, theer wuzzn’t near zo +much, and a thought it wuz pretty night stopped vur +good. A reckon Zaul Tresithny’s abin at the bottom o’ +this night’s work, that a du. A zeed he t’other daay. +’E wuz just zo zavage’s a bear, he wuz. With the faace +aw’m like a death’s ’ead ’pon a mop-stick. A zed then +theer’d be mischief wi’ ’e, afore we heerd t’ last o’t.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I trust not!” breathed Bride, with clasped hands, +as she stood watching the old man kindling the lamp, +slowly drawling out his words as he did so. “It would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span> +be too terrible. Saul of all people! Oh, I trust it is not +so! It is awful for any of them to do such things; but +some are too ignorant to understand the full meaning +of such a fiendish act. But Saul is not ignorant; he +would know. I pray he has had no hand in this thing!”</p> + +<p>“A dawn’t knaw, but a zuzpecs ’e’s abin at the bottom +o’t,” was the deliberate reply. “Ef yu wuz tu luke +out o’ yon winder, my laady, mappen yu may zee a false +light a burning zomewheeres ’long the shore. They’ll a’ve +tu putten out now we got this ’un alight: but I reckon +they will ’ave abin burnin’ one all this time. God help +any poor ships as may ’ave bin goin’ by tu-night!”</p> + +<p>Bride, shivering with a nameless horror, went to the +window indicated, and there, sure enough, about a mile +away, she saw the twinkling of a false light, the dread +purpose of which she but too well divined. Heaven send +that no vessel had been lured by its false shining to a terrible +fate!</p> + +<p>“David,” she said to the old man, “I must go and +rouse the men, and send down to the shore to see what +has been passing there. It is too fearful. Are you +afraid to be left? Do you think there is any chance of +those wicked men coming back? I will send somebody +to you very quickly, and the dog shall stay to protect +you meantime: he will not let anybody touch you or the +light so long as he is here.”</p> + +<p>“Lorblessee! Dawntee by afeared to leev me. A +dawn’t think as they’ll dare come agin. They’d be vules +ef they were tu. A’ll be zafe’s a want in ’is burrow. +Duee go and tell his Grace what they bwoys ’ave abin at. +A reckon they’d not ’a dued it unless they’d ’a knawed +as zome ship were like tu pass by. They bwoys mostly +knaws what tu be at. Yu let me be, and go tu his +Grace. Mappen theer’s help wanted tu the shore by +now.”</p> + +<p>Bride hastened away with a beating heart, leaving the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span> +angry hound, who had never ceased sniffing round the +doorway which led downwards to the outer door of the +tower, to act as protector to the old man, in case the miscreants +should again invade him with intent to put out +the light. She rapidly retraced her steps to the inhabited +part of the castle, and knocking at her father’s +door, told him enough to cause him to ring the bell in +his room which communicated with the men’s quarters, +and quickly brought quite a number of them hurrying +up to the master’s room, ready dressed against some emergency.</p> + +<p>The Duke had hastily attired himself, and was in +earnest confabulation with his daughter by the time the +household assembled. A few words to them sent them +flying after lanterns and ropes, and Bride asked her +father—</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do?”</p> + +<p>“I am going down to the shore, with all the men I +can muster, to try and seize the wreckers if possible at +their fiendish work, or to render help if it be possible to +any hapless vessel they may have lured to destruction. +I pray Heaven we may defeat their villainous intentions; +but I fear old David is right, and that they know very +well what they are about, and do not light false fires +without warrant that they light them not in vain. Bride, +remain you here; call up the women, and let one or two +rooms be prepared. It may be we shall have some half-drowned +guest with us when we return. It can do no +harm to be prepared. That is your office. See that all +is in readiness if wanted.”</p> + +<p>The excitement and alarm had by this time spread +to the stables, and the men from there came hurrying +round, eager to take a share in the night’s expedition. +Two stout young fellows were sent to the foot of the +lantern-tower to keep guard there, and see that no hurt +came to the old man; and the rest were formed into a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span> +regular marching squad by the Duke, who always had +his servants drilled into some sort of military precision, +ready for an emergency of this kind, and led by him +straight down to the beach, carrying such things as were +thought needful, both in the event of a struggle with the +wreckers, or the necessity of organising a rescue party to +some vessel in distress.</p> + +<p>Bride was left in the castle, surrounded by the women +of the household, who had by this time been aroused, +and had come out of their rooms, some in terror, some +in excitement, and were all eager to know both what had +happened and what was to be done.</p> + +<p>Bride took a little on one side the housekeeper and +her old nurse, two old servants in whom she had the +utmost confidence, and quietly gave her orders. One or +two of the spare bed-chambers were to be quickly prepared +for the accommodation of possible guests. The +fire in the hall was to be lighted, and some refreshment +spread there. Visitors at the castle had been rare +of late, and some of the chambers were likely to be +damp, and the fires might very likely smoke on being +lighted.</p> + +<p>“You had better make use of the rooms Mr. Marchmont +uses when he is here,” said Bride. “They have +been used a good deal this year. I think there has +never been any trouble with them.”</p> + +<p>“They are all ready, my lady,” answered the housekeeper. +“His Grace gave orders that they were to be +put in readiness to receive him at any time. They only +want the fires lighting.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! true—I remember,” answered Bride. “Then let +fires be lighted there instantly. Set the girls to work +at something. They are only growing frightened and +upset by talking and wondering. Let everything be +ready in case there are persons brought in drowned, +or almost drowned. Let everything be at hand that can<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span> +be wanted. Nurse, you understand that sort of thing. +You know what is needed in every kind of emergency. +See that all is ready. We do not know what may be +coming to-night.”</p> + +<p>Bride spoke calmly, but her heart was throbbing wildly +the whole time. In her head was beating the ceaseless repetition +of the one name—“Eustace! Eustace! Eustace!”</p> + +<p>She seemed all at once to understand the meaning of +her troubled dream, and the cry which had awakened +her. Eustace was truly in some deadly peril, and her +name had been upon his lips, as it was in his heart, at +the supreme moment when he believed himself passing +from life to death. Bride had too full a belief in the independent +life of the spirit to feel any great surprise at +such a thing as this. The power and the deep mystery +of love were a part of her creed. She held that a true +and God-given love was as immortal as the soul—was the +very essence of the soul; and now that she fully recognised +the depth of her own love for Eustace, she could +well believe (knowing his love for her) that his spirit +would seek to meet hers in the supreme moment when he +thought death was coming upon him. But, surely—ah! +surely, her prayer for him, which had immediately followed +upon that cry, would have been heard in heaven, +and God would give him back to her! Ah! how she had +prayed for this man—body, soul, and spirit! How she +had poured out herself in supplication for him again and +yet again, that his heart might be changed and softened, +that the Spirit of grace might work therein, that he might +learn to know his Saviour, and that his body might be +preserved from all perils.</p> + +<p>Bride had that faith which believes all things; and +even through the anxious terrors of that night she believed +that Eustace would be given back to her. She +believed absolutely that he had been in deadly peril, +that the cry she had heard in her dreams was no dream,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span> +but that it portended some crisis in the life of her lover. +She knew that he was likely to be at sea to-night, and +coming down Channel along these very coasts. It might +indeed have been his vessel that these desperate men had +striven to wreck. She never tried to fight against the +conviction that something terrible had befallen Eustace +that night; but so convinced was she that God had heard +her prayers, and had made of her an instrument for +the deliverance and saving of her lover, that she was +able to retain her calmness and tranquillity, even through +that terrible hour of suspense, saying always to herself—</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is the Father’s way of leading home the +erring son. Perhaps it was in the darkness and the storm +that He went out to meet him. I think he will be given +back to me; but even if not, and he is in the safe-keeping +of the Father, I can bear it. But I believe I shall receive +him back as from the dead.”</p> + +<p>She went to and fro through the house, seeing that her +own and her father’s orders were carried out, her face +wearing a strange expression of intense expectancy, but +her bearing and manner retaining their customary calmness. +When everything that could be done in advance +had been done, she went down into the hall again. The +fire was blazing there and the lights were burning. Upon +a table stood refreshments, and all was as she desired to +see it. The old butler, who had not gone with the rest of +the men, stood in a dim recess, looking out of the window, +and half concealed by the curtain. Suddenly he moved +quickly towards the door.</p> + +<p>“Do you see anything?” asked Bride breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“I hear steps,” he answered, and went to the door. +The next minute he opened it wide and the Duke entered.</p> + +<p>Bride made a quick step forward. Her father’s face +was pale and stern. His clothes were wet as from contact +with salt water, but his manner was composed, though<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span> +indicative of mental disturbance. His first words were to +the servant.</p> + +<p>“Go or send instantly to Abner Tresithny’s cottage, +and tell him to come here at once.”</p> + +<p>The butler disappeared without waiting to hear more. +Abner’s cottage was on the premises, a little distance from +the stable-yard. He could be there in a very short time +after the summons reached him; but why was he summoned?</p> + +<p>Bride’s eyes asked the question her lips could not +frame. Her father came forward, and put his hands upon +her shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Can you be brave to bear bad news, Bride?” he asked; +and she saw that his face looked very grave, and that his +lips quivered a little involuntarily.</p> + +<p>“I think so,” she answered steadily. “Is it Eustace?”</p> + +<p>She felt him give a slight start.</p> + +<p>“How did you know? Who has told you?”</p> + +<p>“I hardly know—Eustace himself, I think. I have +felt sure the whole time that he has been in peril to-night. +Do not be afraid to tell me the worst. Is he +dead?”</p> + +<p>“I fear so! I fear so! God grant I may be mistaken, +but I have no hope—it is the face of the dead!”</p> + +<p>There was something in the tone of the voice that +bespoke a keener distress than Bride would have looked +for her father to show in any matter connected with +Eustace. She gave him a quick glance of grateful sympathy, +and, moving from his side, went to the table and +poured him out a glass of wine. He drank it, and then +she said softly—</p> + +<p>“Tell me about it.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell you all I know; it is a hideous tale, but the +details will only be known when the wretched miscreants +whom we have apprehended are brought before the proper +authorities. We know that our light was extinguished<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span> +and a false one kindled, in order that some vessel might +be deluded to dash itself upon the Bull’s Horns, where +nothing can save it. This diabolic deed has been done +only too well. The men, taken red-handed bringing their +boat back full of spoil, could deny nothing. Evidence was +too clear against them. We apprehended every man of +them, and they are lying bound under a strong guard of +our fellows to await the arrival of the officers of the law. +But one man said that Saul Tresithny was still upon the +wreck, that it was he who had planned all this, and that +he was waiting there till they went for another load and +fetched him off.”</p> + +<p>“And you sent a boat for him?” questioned Bride +breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“The men were for leaving him to his fate, but of +course that could not be allowed, and I wished to see for +myself the position of the wreck, and to learn all that +was possible about her; for we all know that before +another tide has risen and fallen she may be dashed off +the ledge on which she rests now, and sucked into the +treacherous shoals of quicksand.”</p> + +<p>“Papa,” said Bride quickly, interrupting the tale for +a moment; “tell me one thing—are any lives saved?”</p> + +<p>“None—unless Eustace be living, and I fear he is not +and as Bride for a moment pressed her hand to her eyes, +the Duke took up the thread of his narrative, though +always with his face towards the open door, listening +and watching intently.</p> + +<p>“The sea was falling, and we in the bay were sheltered +from its power. We soon reached the wreck, +and there found a light burning, but for a moment +there was no sign of Tresithny. Then one of our men +called out that he saw something in the water—that it +was attached to the wreck by a rope. We got hold of +the rope and pulled upon it, and drew the floating mass +towards us.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span>“And found—Eustace.”</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely a whisper. Bride’s pale lips +moved, but scarce a breath came through them.</p> + +<p>“Found Eustace and Saul Tresithny, locked in an +embrace so tenacious that it has been impossible to +unloose it. How they came to be so locked together +no man yet knows. The wreckers declare that there was +no living soul on board when they left Saul alone on the +wreck. What passed whilst he was there alone none can +say. Eustace had a great life-belt passed under his arms, +holding him well out of the water. Saul Tresithny’s arms +were locked in a bear-like embrace around his neck, and +his hands were so clenched upon the rope which was +attached to the broken mast of the vessel that it was +impossible to loosen it. We had to cut the rope when +the two men were lifted into the boat. Had Saul been +alone, one would have said that he was hauling himself in +towards the vessel, from which he had been washed off +when unconsciousness had come over him. But how +those two came to be locked thus together none can say. +I can form no guess. That will be one of the riddles we +shall never solve.”</p> + +<p>“Is Saul dead too?” asked Bride, in an awed voice.</p> + +<p>“So far as we can tell, both are dead,” answered the +Duke; “but until they can be separated it is not possible +to be absolutely certain on the point. Saul cannot have +been so very long in the water, and the belt supported +both well; but there appears no sign of life about either. +I think they have both passed away together in the darkness +and the storm—master and pupil together—master +and pupil! Ah! Eustace, Eustace! what do you think of +your teaching now?”</p> + +<p>The last words were only just breathed in a tone of +gentle sorrow. Bride said nothing, for the sound of +measured tramping was borne to her ears, and she looked +quickly at her father.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[320]</span>“They are bringing them here, of course?”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” he answered, with a slight motion of his +head. “Whether living or dead, Eustace must lie here; +and till Tresithny’s grasp can be unloosened we cannot +separate them.”</p> + +<p>“Let Saul lie here too, papa,” said Bride suddenly. +“Whether living or dead, let us shelter him. If he has +greatly sinned, he has suffered terribly. We do not carry +enmity beyond the grave, nor punishment after a man has +been so struck down.”</p> + +<p>“I have sent for his grandfather. I will settle with +him about that unhappy young man. Bride, my dear, I +think you had better go. This will be no sight for you.”</p> + +<p>But Bride slipped her hand within her father’s arm, and +looked beseechingly into his face.</p> + +<p>“Do not send me away till I have seen him. You +know that I love Eustace, papa, and he loves me. I +believe that this is God’s way of giving him back to me. +I can bear it whichever way it turns.”</p> + +<p>The Duke said no more. He recognised in Bride that +inherent strength of character, born of a perfect faith, +which had characterised her mother. He let her stay +beside him as the heavy steps drew nearer and nearer, +and the hand upon his arm did not quiver as the bearers +appeared with their strange load at the great door.</p> + +<p>In they came, panting with the effort, for the ascent to +the castle was steep, and the load a heavy one. And when +once within the shelter of the hall, they were forced, without +waiting for leave, to lay it down and gasp for breath.</p> + +<p>Bride stepped forward and looked. There was nothing +ghastly in the sight to her—only something unspeakably +solemn and mysterious.</p> + +<p>The faces of both men were white and rigid, but in nowise +distorted. There was a calm nobility of aspect about +Eustace, which suggested the hope that the soul was at +peace in the midst of the terrors of that fearful night.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span> +Saul’s brow was knitted, and his lips were set in lines of +vehement resolution, as though not even death could obliterate +from his face the intensity of his great resolve.</p> + +<p>As Bride looked, she said within herself, “He died +trying to save Eustace;” and though she could not tell +how such a thing could be, she felt the sense of certainty +rise up glad and strong within her. If his life had been +a wild and wicked one, might not his death have witnessed +to the dawn of the eternal love in his darkened heart? +Might not this sudden act of self-sacrifice have been the +Divine spark kindling in his soul, and lighting his way to +God?</p> + +<p>And then from two different doors entered on the one +hand Abner, and the other the doctor, who had been summoned +in hot haste by a mounted messenger some time +before; and Bride, with one last lingering look upon her +lover’s face, silently withdrew, to return to her vigil and +her prayers, till she could learn what was the verdict about +these two men so strangely locked together.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b321.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b322.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI<br /> + +<i>FROM THE DEAD</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b322m.jpg" alt="“M" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap2">“MY lady, I cannot stay, but I must be the one to +bring the news. He is living after all.”</p> + +<p>Bride had risen from her knees at the sound +of hurrying steps along the corridor, and now +stood face to face with the faithful old nurse, who with +the doctor had been fighting the two hours’ battle, in the +teeth of almost hopeless despair, over the rigid and motionless +form of Eustace Marchmont, and now she stood white +and panting before her young mistress, but with tears of +gladness standing in her eyes.</p> + +<p>Bride raised her face for a moment, her eyes alight +with the intensity of her thanksgiving. The dawn was +just stealing in through the uncurtained window. She +looked for a moment at the crimson blush in the east, +and then suddenly bent her head and kissed the faithful +woman beside her.</p> + +<p>“Thank God!” she said very softly; “and thank you, +dear nurse, for I know how you have been toiling for him—and +for me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my Ladybird, it would have broken my heart if he +had slipped away out of life just when—but there, there! +I mustn’t stop to talk. And we mustn’t build too much on +keeping him here. He’s been a terrible time in the water, +and been fearfully dashed about. He’ll have a fight to +pull through; but then he’s young and strong, and he’ll<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span> +have the best sort of hope to help him. There, deary, +there, there! I can’t linger longer. There’s a deal to be +done, and the doctor has to go when he can spare a +moment to look to that other poor fellow. I don’t know +which is the worst of the two, but they are both of them +alive at least.”</p> + +<p>“Saul too? Ah! I am glad!” cried Bride; and then +the nurse hurried away, and she sat down after the long +strain of those strange hours, and tried to collect her +scattered thoughts.</p> + +<p>Eustace living—though by no means out of danger! +Ah! but was it not enough just now to be assured that +the life was still in him? Surely since God had given +him back in answer to her prayers, He had spared him +for some great purpose. He had brought him to the +very gates of death, but had brought him back therefrom +already. Was not that evidence that he was spared for +some good purpose? Might she not look forward in faith +and confidence to Him, Who had saved him from these +terrible bodily perils, that He would also be with him +in any other trial that might lie before him, bodily or +spiritual? Need she be fearful or troubled any more +after the wonderful experiences of the past night? Eustace +had been given back to her prayers. What need she +fear when that proof of Fatherly love was hers?</p> + +<p>Bride mechanically put the finishing touches to her +toilet, and washed from her face the traces of her long +vigil; then, unable to remain inactive any longer, she +left her room and descended the staircase, the light +broadening and strengthening in the sky as she did so, +as the sun rose from behind banks of low-lying cloud, +and looked forth upon the new day now begun.</p> + +<p>The great door at the far end of the hall stood wide +open to the breezy morning, and even as Bride reached +the foot of the staircase a tall figure darkened it for a +moment, and Mr. Tremodart came in with an uncertain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[324]</span> +air, glancing about him here and there, as if in search of +something or some one.</p> + +<p>Bride stepped forward and held out her hand.</p> + +<p>“You have heard?” she asked briefly.</p> + +<p>“Ah yes! it is a terrible thing, a terrible thing! Lady +Bride, it makes me feel that I must send in my resignation +to the Bishop, and ask him to appoint another pastor +to this flock. Surely had I done my duty, they would +not now be such savages and fiends! I have been down +with them, poor miserable men! I have been hearing +their confession. They have been led away by a spirit +stronger than their own. The Lord forgive me! Perhaps +had I been more to them and more with them, they +would not have hearkened to such evil counsel!”</p> + +<p>The clergyman’s remorse was painful to see. Bride had +grown to feel a great liking and respect for Mr. Tremodart +during the past year. That he was somewhat out +of his element as a parish priest, she never attempted +to deny. That he had been placed in his present position +without any real aptitude for his vocation, he never himself +denied; but he had tried to do his duty according to +his own lights; and though often too much engrossed in +his favourite pursuits to give all the time he should have +done to his flock, he had never neglected to respond to +a summons from any one of them, however personally +inconvenient, and had always striven to relieve distress, +both of body and mind, as far as in him lay, though his +methods were sometimes clumsy, and his words halting +and lame.</p> + +<p>Still on the whole he had won the respect and liking +of his flock, and the confidence of the black sheep better, +perhaps, than a more truly earnest and devoted man +might have done. The fishermen were not afraid of him. +They knew he understood their ways of thinking, and had +a sympathy with them even in their peccadillos. He +did not receive or purchase smuggled goods, as too many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[325]</span> +of his profession did in those days; but he did not look +with any very great displeasure on a traffic that he had +been used to all his life, and which seemed almost a part +of the economy of life. But with all his faults and his +easy-going ways, he had never for a moment encouraged +indifference to human life or suffering; and the knowledge +that the men of Bride’s Bay had deliberately lured +to her doom a great vessel, from which only one man +had been rescued alive, was a terrible thought. The +moment the news had been brought to him, Mr. Tremodart +had hastened down to the shore to learn the truth +of the matter, and had now come to the castle with a +grave face and heavy heart, to seek news of the survivor, +and the man who had been found with him.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps we might all have done more for them than +we did,” said Bride gently; “but men will listen so much +more readily to the voice of the tempter than to those +who would hold them back from their sinful deeds. +And Saul Tresithny had such power over them! I fear +it was he who led them on.”</p> + +<p>“Ay! ay! there can be no doubting that. One and all, +they all say it. ’Twas his doing—his planning from first to +last. They, poor fellows, thought of the spoil to be had, +and listened with greedy ears; but he was thinking darker +thoughts, I fear. They say he wanted nothing for himself. +All his mind was fixed upon some evil hope of +vengeance. His hatred for mankind had driven him +well-nigh mad. Ah! Lady Bride, I think that we may +well say that if God is Love—as we have His blessed +assurance—then the devil is—hatred. For sure only the +devil himself could so have inspired that spirit of hatred +which could vent itself in such an act as that of last +night.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, I think so,” answered Bride, in a low tone +of great feeling. “It is too terrible to think of. What +will happen to those poor men? Where are they now?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[326]</span>“The officers have taken them. I fear they will be +committed for trial. I scarce know the penalty—transportation, +I should think. Perhaps a few may be released—a +few of the younger men; but example will be made +of some. It would scarce be right to wish it otherwise. +That noble vessel! and all hands lost, and every soul +on board save one! Ah me! ah me! And the men +of St. Bride the culprits! I could sink to the ground +for shame!”</p> + +<p>“Do you know who the survivor is?” asked Bride.</p> + +<p>“Nay; I did but hear he had been carried here—he +and Tresithny, locked in one embrace, none knowing +whether either were alive or dead. I came for news of +them.”</p> + +<p>“They are both living—now,” answered Bride, with a +strange light in her eyes, “though we must not build too +much on that. The survivor from the wreck is our kinsman, +Eustace Marchmont.”</p> + +<p>“God bless my soul! you don’t say so?” cried the +clergyman, starting back in great astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Bride; “we were expecting him shortly, +and he spoke of coming by sea in one of the new steam-ships. +That was the one which was wrecked last night. +Eustace was there. He had on a great life-belt, and +Saul was clinging round him when they were carried in. +Saul had been left behind on the wreck whilst the other +men took their first load of spoil to shore. What happened +then nobody yet knows; but when my father and +his men reached the wreck, they found those two in the +water, floating near to it at the end of a rope—whether +alive or dead, it was hours before anybody knew.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say so? What an extraordinary thing! +Do you think they were struggling together in the water? +Could Saul have been striving to do some injury to +Mr. Marchmont——?”</p> + +<p>“Oh no, no,” cried Bride quickly; “I am sure that was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[327]</span> +not so. What it all means I cannot tell yet; but I know +that Saul loved Eustace. I think he was the only being in +the world he has ever truly loved. I cannot help thinking +he was trying to save him—trying to draw him out of +the water. But we may never know the truth of it. +Yet I shall never believe that Saul would lift up a hand +against Eustace.”</p> + +<p>“I trust not—I trust not. Ah! poor fellow, it will be +a mercy for him if he die a natural death from exposure. +He has nothing to live for now, I fear, save transportation +or the gallows.”</p> + +<p>Bride turned pale and took a backward step. That +aspect of the case had not struck her before.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” she exclaimed, with a little gasp, and was silent, +trying to take it all in. Oh, that blind, misguided nature, +warped and deformed by unreasoning and unreasonable +hatred! How had the springs of nobility lying latent +there been poisoned at their very source! How had the +man’s whole career been blasted and shattered through the +entering in of that demon of jealousy and hatred, which had +gradually struggled with and overpowered every other emotion, +and become absolute master of the man! And there +had been a time when Saul had been spoken of as a youth of +such promise. Alas! how had that promise been fulfilled?</p> + +<p>Bride and the clergyman stood facing each other in +silence, the morning sunshine lying in broad bands across +the paved floor of the hall, and the sounds of life from +without speaking cheerful things of the awakening day. +The butler came forward and broke the spell of silent +musing by informing his young mistress that breakfast +had been carried in, but that His Grace was still resting +after the fatigues of the night, and did not wish to be +disturbed.</p> + +<p>“Then you will breakfast with me, Mr. Tremodart,” +said Bride, “and then we will ask for fresh news of the +patients.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[328]</span>The meal was a silent one, but both stood in need of +refreshment and felt strengthened by it. At the conclusion +Bride rose up, and looking at her companion said—</p> + +<p>“Will you come with me? I am going to ask news +of him at his door. Perhaps, if he is conscious, he will +like to see you. I fear his life will be in danger for some +time. He may feel the need of your presence.”</p> + +<p>“I—I—hardly know whether I could help him if such +were the case,” answered Mr. Tremodart, always rather +nervous at the prospect of being called upon for spiritual +ministrations, especially by those of the educated and +superior classes. He was not a man of ready speech, and +felt his deficiency greatly. “Perhaps Mr. St. Aubyn would +come,” he suggested. “I think he knows Mr. Marchmont +better than I.”</p> + +<p>“I think it is likely he will come when he hears,” +answered Bride; “but we belong to you too, Mr. Tremodart, +and at least you will come and hear the news from the +sick-room?”</p> + +<p>He was very anxious to do so, and followed the girl +up the staircase and along the corridors. Bride paused +at length at a half-open door. It led into a pleasant +room furnished as a study, and beyond it was the bedroom, +from which proceeded a quiet murmur of voices.</p> + +<p>Bride held her breath to listen. Was it Eustace +speaking? No, she thought it was the doctor; but was +there not a still lower voice, a mere whisper? or was it +only the beating of her heart?</p> + +<p>The door of communication opened suddenly, and the +nurse came out. Her face lighted at the sight of Bride.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my lady, I think he is asking for you. We can’t +quite make out his words. He has no voice, and scarce any +breath; but I saw his lips move, and I’m almost sure he’s +saying your name. We can’t tell whether he knows us +yet—whether his mind is there. But I think if you +would go in to him we might be able to tell.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[329]</span>Bride looked at her companion.</p> + +<p>“Let us go in together,” she said, feeling a strange desire +for the support of another presence. She hardly knew +what it was that she would be called upon to witness +in that room; but at least Eustace was there—Eustace +was still living; and if he wanted her, was not that +enough?</p> + +<p>Her face was very pale, but her manner was quite +composed as she walked forward, passed the screen, and +stood beside the bed.</p> + +<p>Upon the bed, perfectly flat, with only one thin pillow +beneath his head, lay Eustace, as motionless and almost +as rigid as though life were extinct. His arms lay passively +outside the bed-clothing just as they had been +placed. The left arm was bound up in a splint, but the +right lay almost as helpless and powerless beside him. +There was a white bandage about his head, and his face +was almost as white as the linen. The lips were ashen +grey, and a shadow seemed to rest upon the face, robbing +it of almost all semblance of life. Only the eyes retained +any of their colour. They were sunken and dim, but +there was life in their glance yet; and as Bride stood +beside him, and softly spoke his name, a sudden gleam of +joyous recognition flashed from them, and the white lips +curved to the faint semblance of a smile.</p> + +<p>“Bride,” he said, in the lowest whisper.</p> + +<p>She took the powerless hand in his, and then bent +down and kissed him.</p> + +<p>“I am here, Eustace, I am with you. You will live +for my sake,” she said, in soft clear tones, which seemed to +penetrate the mists of weakness closing him in. The dim +eyes brightened more and more, and fixed themselves +upon her fair, sweet face. She felt a very slight answering +pressure of the fingers she held, and again she heard +the whisper of her name.</p> + +<p>The doctor was standing a little distance off. He had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[330]</span> +known Bride from her infancy, and was watching the +little scene with extreme interest, both professional and +personal. Now he came forward and stood on the other +side of the bed; his kind old face was beaming with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“That is good, very good, Lady Bride,” he said; “I can +see what is the medicine our patient wants. You have +done more for him in a minute than I have been able to +do all these hours. We want him to get a grip on life +again—just to help him to hold on to it till Nature can +make up for the terrible exhaustion of those hours in the +water. Now look here, it’s most important he should +take the hot soup and the cordial nurse has over there. +We can’t get more than a few drops down at a time, but +perhaps you will be more successful. We are keeping up +the animal heat by outward applications, but we must +keep the furnace inside going still. Try what you can do +for him, my dear. I think you have made him understand +as we have not succeeded in doing yet.”</p> + +<p>The nurse came to the bedside with cup and spoon, and +Bride took them from her hand. With a gentle tenderness +almost like that of a mother she bent over Eustace, +raised his head as she had been wont to do for her mother +in her long last illness, and gave him what the doctor +bade her.</p> + +<p>He swallowed it without a murmur, perfectly understanding +her voice and touch. Three or four spoonsful +were taken in this way, the doctor looking on and slightly +rubbing his hands.</p> + +<p>“If you can stay with him two hours, and feed him like +that every ten minutes, Lady Bride,” he said, “I think +we shall see a change for the better by that time. Everything +depends on keeping up the vital power. It was +down to the very lowest ebb when he was brought in. If +he had not the most magnificent constitution, he could +never have survived all that exposure. It will be everything<span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[331]</span> +if he can be kept up. Will you be his nurse for to-day, +and keep guard over him? You can do more than +all the rest of us put together. Are you willing?”</p> + +<p>Bride desired nothing better. She had hardly dared to +let herself hope to see Eustace for many days, and here +she was established beside him as head-nurse, and the +person most needful to his recovery. Her heart bounded +within her as the doctor and Mr. Tremodart stole away +together to visit the other patient, and she found herself +left in charge of her lover.</p> + +<p>Yes, she called him so now without hesitation or fear. +She had long known that love was stealing more and more +into her heart, and latterly she had not been afraid to +face the thought and to follow it to its conclusion.</p> + +<p>She loved Eustace, and he loved her. She had heard +that from his own lips before she had had any love to give +to him. But since she had begun to pray for him, to intercede +for him, to bring his name into the presence of God +day by day and night by night, not in despondency, but +in perfect faith, faith that her prayers for him would be +heard and answered, and that the Father would turn his +heart homewards, and go forth to meet him when once +his steps were homeward set—since she had begun to +think of him and pray for him thus, love had gradually +stolen into her heart; whilst since the strange events of +the past night, when their spirits had met in the darkness +and the storm, and God had used her as an instrument +for the saving of her lover’s life, she had not feared to recognise +that love, and to call Eustace her own.</p> + +<p>His eyes were turned now upon her with a restful look +of infinite content. He did not try to speak; he had not +strength to return the soft pressure of her hand from time +to time, but he lay and looked at her; and when she bent +over him, and spoke his name in words that sounded like +a caress, and touched his brow with her lips, or smoothed +away the dank tumbled hair, he smiled a slight smile of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[332]</span> +restful peace, and he never resisted her pleading voice +when she put food to his lips, and bade him make the +effort to swallow it “for her sake.”</p> + +<p>Two hours had gone by thus, and Bride began to see a +slight, indefinite change in her patient. The grey shadow +was lighter than it had been. There was more brightness +in the eyes; once or twice she had heard a whispered +“thank you” spoken, and when the sound of the opening +door fell upon their ears, he as well as she looked to see +who was coming—a plain proof of a distinct advance in +his condition.</p> + +<p>It was the Duke. He looked weary and worn and +pale. He had not escaped without some exhaustion +and suffering from the effects of the night’s adventure, +and was feeling old and shaken, as indeed he looked. But +sleep had restored him to some extent, and now his +anxiety had brought him to Eustace’s side. His face +lighted with pleasure as he saw the look of recognition on +the white face, and noted that Bride had taken up her +station beside the bed.</p> + +<p>He came forward and stood beside them, looking down +at his young kinsman.</p> + +<p>“You are better, Eustace?” he said kindly; and to +Bride’s surprise the answer came quite audibly, though +only in a very faint whisper—</p> + +<p>“Bride is giving me new life.”</p> + +<p>“That is well, very well. Do not talk. Keep quiet, +and Bride will take care of you;” and at that moment +the doctor came back, and looked at his patient with an +emphatic nod of approval.</p> + +<p>“Very good, very good, couldn’t be better. Lady Bride, +if you will only go on as successfully as you have begun, +we shall have him round the corner by the time the day +is over. A magnificent constitution—truly a magnificent +one! Could not have believed it! Gave very little signs +of life four hours ago—just a flicker; but I was afraid to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[333]</span> +hope too much, and now—why, there’s quite a pulse, and +no fever. Wonderful! wonderful!”</p> + +<p>Eustace was growing drowsy by this time—a very +favourable symptom in the doctor’s sight. The murmur +of voices about him induced a state of dreamy torpor. +His eyes closed, and he dropped off into a light dose, as +people do who are very weak, but have no fever or pain. +Bride looked up with a smile at her father.</p> + +<p>“He will be better if he sleeps,” she said. “Will you +not sit down, papa? you look so tired.”</p> + +<p>The doctor gave a shrewd glance at the Duke’s face, and +seconded his daughter’s recommendation. They drew a +little away from the bed, and Bride asked softly—</p> + +<p>“What about Saul?”</p> + +<p>The doctor shook his head.</p> + +<p>“He is in a raging fever. Whether it is an affection of +the brain, or the effects of the exposure and wetting on +a constitution already much enfeebled, I hardly know yet, +but he is in raving delirium at present, and I doubt if we +pull him through. Poor fellow! poor fellow! It is a fine +character blasted and ruined, a fine career flung away for +the gratification of senseless passion! Ah me!—we live +in a world of perplexities. The history of that young +man has been a source of wonderment and sorrow to the +whole place. I fear it is drawing to its close now.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps that is the happiest thing for him,” said Bride +softly, “if only——”</p> + +<p>She did not finish her sentence—there was no need. +All who knew the young man’s story could finish it themselves. +As the girl sat beside Eustace whilst the hours sped +by, each one renewing her hope and sense of thankful +relief in seeing the flame of life within him burn more +steadily and brightly, her thoughts were much with that +other patient lying not so far away, wondering what was +going on in his soul, and whether this chastening had indeed +been for the salvation of his soul. Towards evening<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[334]</span> +Eustace was so wonderfully recovered that he had spoken +a few short sentences, and would have told her something +of the wreck of the vessel, only that consecutive speech +was forbidden him. The grey shadow had vanished, +a faint colour had come into his lips. He was able to +take such nourishment as his condition required, and to +dispense with much of the outward application of heat. +At last he fell into a sound, refreshing, and perfectly +natural sleep, and Bride, at the suggestion of the nurse, +stole away to get a mouthful of air on the terrace before +dark, after which she went herself to that other part of +the house where Saul lay, to try to get speech of Abner, +who was with his grandson, as he had been ever since he +was brought in the previous night.</p> + +<p>The old man came out to her, looking bent and aged, +but with a light in his eyes which Bride saw at once.</p> + +<p>“Is he better?” she asked eagerly; and the answer +was curious.</p> + +<p>“I trust and hope that he is, my lady. I think that +he has prayed.”</p> + +<p>“Prayed?” repeated Bride, her eyes lighting in quick +response. “Ah, Abner!—then he must indeed be better!”</p> + +<p>“I think he will die,” said Abner, with quiet calmness; +“but what matters the death of the corruptible body, if +the spark of immortal life and love be quickened in the +soul? My lady, in his ravings of fever my boy has laid +bare his soul to me—all the terrible darkness, all the wild +hatred, all the fearful thoughts which went to prompt that +last dread act of his life. But he has told other things +as well. He has told how, whilst he sat alone upon the +wreck, gloating over the crime he had committed, he saw +an object in the water, and knew that one of his victims +was near him. I cannot paint that scene as he has +painted it in his ravings, but I think I see it all. He +turned his light upon the victim, and he saw the face +of Mr. Marchmont, his friend. Then I think he saw<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[335]</span> +his handiwork as it appears in the sight of God. He +saw himself the blackest of sinners, and with a prayer +on his lips that he might be permitted to make this +atonement, he sprang into the water to strive and save +Mr. Marchmont, who else must surely have been sucked +back into the cruel quicksands lying so close at hand.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” cried Bride softly, “I said so—I thought so!”</p> + +<p>“So he tied himself to the vessel—ah! he has been +acting it all so fearfully, that I can see it as though I had +been there!—he flung himself into the sea and grappled +with the floating figure, trying to pull it to the wreck +and place it in safety. Ah! how he must have struggled +with the wind and tide that were fighting against him! +but in his mortal agony he turned in prayer to the God +he had despised and defied, and prayed to Him that this +life—this one life—might be given to him. Ah! how +many times has that prayer passed his lips to-day—‘God +help me! God give me strength! God be merciful +to me, a sinner!’ He knows not what he says now, but +he knew it when he lifted his heart in prayer in the hour +of his extremest need. It was not for his own life he +prayed, but for the life of the one he sought to save. +I truly believe that in those terrible moments he lived +through a lifetime of agony and repentance. God does +not measure time as we do. I think He will accept those +moments of agonised penitence as He accepted the repentance +of the thief upon the cross. I think he looked to +his Saviour in that hour of mortal weakness and despair, +when life and all seemed slipping away. Last night was +the witness of the crowning sin of his reckless life, yet +I believe, by the grace of God, it was witness, too, of a +penitent malefactor turning towards Him at the last. +This gives me more hope and joy than I have ever known +before for him.”</p> + +<p>Bride went away with a great awe upon her—a +deep respect and sympathy for the faith of this patient<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[336]</span> +man, and a sense of the intense reality of the power of +prayer such as she had scarcely experienced in her life +before. She knew that Abner had been praying for the +conversion of Saul, even as she had been praying that +Eustace might turn in faith towards the God of Salvation. +Once it had seemed as though nothing could conquer the +invincible wildness of the one or the intellectual scepticism +of the other. But God had put forth His hand in +power, and had caused that even the powers of evil should +aid in bringing about the answer. She wanted to think +it out. She wanted to be alone in her awe and her thankfulness. +She went swiftly up to her own room, and sank +upon her knees, burying her face in her hands.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b336.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[337]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b337.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII<br /> + +<i>SAUL TRESITHNY</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b337h.jpg" alt="H" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">HIS eyes opened slowly upon the unfamiliar room. +The shaft of sunlight slanting in from the west +shone upon a comfortable apartment, far larger +and loftier than anything to which he had been +accustomed. The window was larger, the fireplace was +wider, and there was a clear fire of coal burning in the +grate, very different from the peat and driftwood fires to +which he had been long accustomed. The only familiar +object in the room was the figure of his grandfather, +bending over the big Bible on the table, as he had been +so used to see it from childhood, when he awakened +from sleep in the early hours of the night, and looked +about him to know where he was.</p> + +<p>For a moment a dreamy wonderment came over him. +He asked himself whether he had not been dreaming a long, +long troubled dream of manhood and strife, and whether, +after all, he were not a little child again, living in his +grandfather’s cottage, happy in his games upon the shore, +and looking eagerly forward to the time when he should +be a man and could follow the fortunes of fishermen +and smugglers, or have a big garden to care for like +Abner.</p> + +<p>But this dreamy condition did not last long. There +was a bowed look about Abner, and his hair was altogether +too white for him to be identified with the Abner<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[338]</span> +of twenty years back. Saul raised his own hand and +looked at it curiously. It was shrunken to skin and +bone, but a great hand still, with indications of vanished +power and strength. The dark sombre eyes roved round +and round the room. Memory was awakening, the mists +of fever and delirium were passing away. Suddenly +Saul seemed to see as in a panorama the whole map +of his past life rolled out before him. It was written +in characters of fire upon the bare walls of the room. +Everywhere he looked he saw his wild and evil deeds +depicted. Why was it that they looked black and +hideous to him now, when hitherto he had gloried in +them—gloated over them? He saw, last of all, the +doomed vessel bearing straight down upon the cruel +rocks. And now he seemed to see a face on board that +vessel—the face of one he loved—the face of the man who +had held out his hand in friendship, when (as he believed) +all the world beside had turned its back upon him. He +saw the face of this friend looking at him with a deep +reproach in the eyes, and a sudden groan of anguish broke +from Saul’s lips as he stretched out his hands to stay the +course of the doomed vessel.</p> + +<p>At the sound of that groan Abner rose quickly and +came forward to the bedside. The ray of dying daylight +was fading already, and the shadow of the winter’s evening +closing in; and yet in the dimness about the bed, +Abner thought he saw something new in Saul’s face.</p> + +<p>“Saul, my lad,” he said gently, “do you know me?”</p> + +<p>“Tu be sure I du,” answered Saul, and wondered why +his voice sounded so distant and hollow. “What’s the +matter, grandfather?”</p> + +<p>“You have been in a fever for many days, my lad, and +didn’t know anybody about yu. What is it, boy? Don’t +excite yourself. Yu must be kept quite quiet.”</p> + +<p>Saul’s face was changing every moment, turning from +red to pale and pale to red. He was struggling with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[339]</span> +emotion and a rush of recollection. For a moment +Abner’s voice and presence had arrested the course of +his memories; but now they came surging back.</p> + +<p>“Grandfather, tell me,” he cried, struggling to sit up +and then sinking back in his weakness, “what happened?—how +did I get out of the water? Where is Mr. +Marchmont?”</p> + +<p>“Here in the castle. You were brought in together. +They could not loose your clasp upon him for a long +time.”</p> + +<p>“And where is he? Is he alive?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—alive, and like to live.”</p> + +<p>Saul suddenly pressed his hands together and broke +into wild weeping.</p> + +<p>“Thank God! thank God!” he cried, his whole frame +shaken with sobs. “Grandfather, pray for me—you +know I never learned to pray for myself—at least I have +well-nigh forgotten now. But down on your knees +and thank God for that for me! May be He will hear +yu. It must have been He that saved him; for the +devil was at my ear all the while prompting me to let +him die.”</p> + +<p>Abner was already on his knees, with a thanksgiving +of his own to offer. He had prayed too much and too +earnestly, both in secret and before his fellow-men, to +lack words now in this hour of intense gratitude and +thanksgiving. In rugged yet not ill-chosen words he +lifted up his voice and gave thanks to God for His great +and unspeakable mercies in giving back this one life +from the destruction that had come upon all besides; +and in permitting the very man whose sin had brought +about this fearful thing to be His instrument for the +salvation of the life of his friend. He pleaded for mercy +for the sinner with an impassioned eloquence which +bespoke a spirit deeply moved. He brought before the +Lord the sins and shortcomings of this erring man, now<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[340]</span> +stretched on a bed of sickness, and besought that the +cleansing blood of Christ might wash them all away. +He pleaded for Saul as he never could have pleaded for +himself. He brought together all those eternal promises +of mercy which are to the sinner as the anchor and stay +of the soul in the deep and bitter waters of remorse. He +pleaded with his Redeemer for the soul of his grandson +with a fervour only inspired by a love and a faith too +deep to be daunted by any considerations as to the weight +of iniquity to be pardoned, or the lack of faith in the +one thus prayed for. And Saul, lying helpless and +tempest-tossed, listened to this pleading, and found his +tears bursting forth again. He had seen before all the +black and crushing iniquity of his own past record, but +now was brought before his eyes a picture of the infinite +and ineffable love of a dying Saviour—the Lord of +Glory crucified for <i>him</i>—bearing <i>his</i> sins upon the +Cross of shame—stretching out His wounded hands and +bidding <i>him</i> come to that Cross and lay down his burden +there. It was too much for Saul, softened as he was +by the sense that God had already answered his prayer +even in the midst of his sin and wickedness, and had +given him the one petition, the only one he ever remembered +to have offered. The whole conception of such divine +mercy was too much—it broke down all his pride and +reserve and sullen defiance—it broke his heart and made +it as the heart of a little child. His tears gushed forth. +He clasped his hands, and lifted them in supplication to +his Saviour. He could not have found words for his +own guilt, but he could follow the earnest words of the +grandfather, whose simple piety he had hitherto held in +a species of lofty contempt. And in that still evening +hour, with the dying day about them, and the shadow +of death hovering as it were in the very air above them +(for Saul was dying, although he knew it not yet; and +Abner knew that his hours were numbered, though he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">[341]</span> +might linger for a day or two yet), the erring soul turned +in penitence and love to the Saviour in Whose death +lay the only hope of pardon, and in Whose resurrection-life +the only hope of that life immortal beyond the +grave, beyond the power of the second death, and found +at last peace and rest, in spite of all the blackness of +past sin.</p> + +<p>For when the Saviour’s Blood has washed away the +sin, the blackness can no longer remain. Humble penitence +and contrite love remain, but the misery and despair +are taken away. He bears the grief and carries the +sorrow; He takes the shame, the curse, the wrath of a +holy and a just God. It was a thought almost too overwhelming +for Saul to bear. It broke his heart and +humbled him to the very dust. But he no longer fought +against the infinite love—no longer hardened his heart +against the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of comfort and sanctification. +He had felt the blessedness of the pardoning +love, and he yearned for the guiding light that should +show him how he might direct his steps for the time +that remained to him.</p> + +<p>Of that time he had not yet thought. Those hours +had been too crowded with extreme emotion. He had +passed through a crisis of spiritual existence which made +all earthly things dwarf into insignificance. It was only +when the hour of midnight tolled forth, and he recollected +that a new day had begun for him, that he first +folded his hands in prayer, lifting up his heart to God +in thanksgiving for the light which was now in his soul, +and then turning his gaze upon Abner, who had never +moved from his side all this while, asked softly—</p> + +<p>“What day is it?”</p> + +<p>“Sunday, my lad. A new day and a new week. I +little thought upon the last Sunday what the Lord had +in store for me for this. The Lord’s Day, my lad—the +Lord’s Day. That’s what I love to call it. May we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">[342]</span> +have grace to keep it to His glory. Saul, my lad, you +have no fears now?”</p> + +<p>“Fears of what, grandfather?”</p> + +<p>“Fears about the Lord’s love—about the forgiveness +He has granted yu?”</p> + +<p>A singular radiance came over Saul’s face.</p> + +<p>“No—I can’t doubt it. It’s too wonderful to be understood. +But I can feel it right through me. I’ve no +fear.”</p> + +<p>“And would you fear, my boy, if you had to see Him +face to face—if you should be called upon to meet Him—if +He should come this very night to gather to Himself +those that wait for His coming?”</p> + +<p>Saul looked earnestly into the old man’s face. He +knew something of Abner’s belief and hope, though it +was now several years since he had spoken of it in his +hearing. As a youth his grandfather, who was slowly +gathering up fragments from the prophetic Scriptures, +and, in common with many others who met for prayer +and meditation, beginning to awaken to a belief in the +sudden and instantaneous appearing of the Lord on earth, +had striven to convince the boy of the truth of this belief, +and awaken within his soul that burning love and longing +after the coming and kingdom of the Lord which was +stealing upon his own. Saul, however, had not been +responsive. To him it was all old wives’ fables, and he +had sometimes mocked and sometimes sneered, so that +Abner had soon ceased to urge him, trusting that faith +would come at last through the mercy of God, though +not by the will of man. Nevertheless the foundations +had been laid, inasmuch as Saul now understood what his +grandfather meant, and could even recall the words of +Scriptural promise in which Christ had spoken of His +return, and the Apostles had exhorted the early churches to +remain steadfast in the hope of it. And as these memories +crowded in upon his mind and brain now—now that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">[343]</span> +the love of the Lord had awakened within him, and he +was only longing for some means of showing that love +and abasing himself at His feet in penitence and adoration—the +memory of these words and promises came back +to him charged with a wonderful beauty and significance, +and clasping his hands together he replied in a choked +voice—</p> + +<p>“It is too wonderful and beautiful to be believed, but +He has said it. If He were to come to-night, grandfather, +I dare scarcely to hope that such an one as I should +be counted worthy to be caught away to meet Him in the +air; but if I might but look upon His glorified face it +would be enough. He would know how much I love +Him, and how I hate myself and my vile life. I should +see Him—I should be able to look up to Him and +say—‘My Lord and my God!’ I do not even ask +more!”</p> + +<p>Abner was silent for a moment, and then said in a +voice that quivered with the intensity of his emotion—</p> + +<p>“And, my lad, if the Lord delays His own coming, but +calls to you to meet Him in another way, would you be +afraid?”</p> + +<p>Saul looked at him quickly, and read in a moment all +that was in Abner’s soul.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean that I shall die?” he asked.</p> + +<p>There was silence for a moment, and then Abner +spoke—</p> + +<p>“It may not be to-night, but it must be soon. The +doctor says you strained your heart so terrible hard +that night, and there was something amiss with you +before. I don’t rightly understand his words, but you’ve +never been the same since that fever, and when you were +knocked down by the horses they did you a mischief +you’ve never got over. That night on the wreck was the +last straw, as folks say. There’s something broke and +hurt past mending. You won’t have no pain, but things<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">[344]</span> +can’t go on long. You’ll not be long before you see your +Saviour, my lad; for I’m very sure we go to be with Him, +even though we may not share His glory till the blessed +day of the Resurrection.”</p> + +<p>A strange awe fell upon Saul. His eyes looked straight +at Abner with an expression the latter could hardly +fathom. Was it fear? Was it joy? Was it triumph? +He did not know, but Saul’s next words gave him the +clue.</p> + +<p>“It is goodness past belief—I can’t understand it!”</p> + +<p>“What, my boy?”</p> + +<p>“Why, that the Lord should take me to Himself, when +He might have left me to a life of misery and degradation +in a far-off land with criminals and evil-doers, or sent me +to the scaffold, as I was nearly sent before. After such a +life as I’ve led, to take me away to His beautiful land of +rest. It’s too much—it’s too much! I don’t know how +to thank Him aright. Grandfather, get down upon your +knees again and tell Him—though He knows it, to be +sure—that for love of Him I’m willing to live that life of +misery, or die the shameful death I’ve deserved, and led +others to, I fear. Let it be only as He wills, but to +be taken away from it all to be with Him seems more +blessedness and goodness than I can rightly understand.”</p> + +<p>Tears were running down Abner’s face. His voice was +broken by sobs.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my boy! my boy! if that’s how you feel, I’ve no +fears for you. That’s the feeling we should all strive +after. Whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and +whether we die, we die unto the Lord: so that, living or +dying, we are the Lord’s. If it’s so with thee, my boy, +there’s nought else to wish for thee. The peace that +passes all understanding will be with thee to the end. +Oh, bless the Lord! thank the Lord! Hallelujah! +Hallelujah!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">[345]</span>For many minutes there was in that chamber of death +such a sense of joy and peace as was indeed a foretaste of +the everlasting peace of God. Saul lay and looked out +before him through the casement, through which a very +young moon was just glinting. It was a strange thought +that before that moon waned his body would be lying +stiff and cold beneath the churchyard sod. But there +was no fear in Saul’s mind. Fear had never been a friend +to him, and now the perfect love of his crucified and +ascended Lord had driven out all fear. Yet even with +the prospect of that wondrous change to pass upon him, +Saul’s thoughts were not all of himself. He listened to all +there was to know of the men he had lured and tempted +to this great crime, and heaved a sigh of relief to hear +that the magistrates had themselves dealt with the cases +of the younger men—men some of them little more than +lads, who had plainly been led away by their associates, +and had had a lesson they would not be likely to forget. +Only six had been committed for trial, and these were all +men of bad character and reckless lives. Their fate might +likely be a hard one, but they were to have counsel to +defend them, and stress was to be laid upon the action of +Saul in the matter, and the part he had taken in urging +the crime upon them. Saul made a full confession of all +his share to Abner that night, and made him promise to +attend the trial and repeat this before the judges if possible. +It might militate in their favour perhaps, and Saul +directed that his boat and all that he had should be sold +and given to the wives of the two men out of the six who +were married; and having settled all this with his grandfather, +he felt his mind relieved of a part of its burden, +and lay quiet and exhausted for some time.</p> + +<p>He had fallen into a doze when Abner aroused him +to take food, and looking up quickly he asked—</p> + +<p>“Where are we now? I don’t know this place.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a room in the castle—in the servants’ block,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">[346]</span> +answered Abner. “I told yu they could not get your +clasp loosened from Mr. Marchmont’s neck. They had +tu bring yu both here, and then the doctor would not let +yu be taken away—not even so far as my cottage. Yu +were brought here, and yu’ve had the same care and +attention as Mr. Marchmont himself. The doctor went +to and fro betwixt yu all that night, and has been three +and four times a day tu see yu ever since.”</p> + +<p>A little flicker passed over Saul’s face. He remembered, +as a thing long since past, his old hatred of the +class above him. Now he could only feel love for all men—a +natural outcome of the intense and burning love for +his Lord which was filling all his heart.</p> + +<p>“If I could only see him once more!” he said softly.</p> + +<p>“See what?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Marchmont.”</p> + +<p>But Abner shook his head, and such an expression +of gravity came over his face that Saul cried out +quickly—</p> + +<p>“What is it? Yu said he was doin’ well!”</p> + +<p>“Yes—that is what we heard at first. It is true tu—so +far as it goes. When we feared he would die, it +seemed everything to know that his life was spared; but +after that came terrible bad news tu. His life is safe—the +doctor says he will live years and years—to be an +old man like enough; but it’s doubtful whether he will +ever walk again. He’s been hurt in the back, and is what +folks call half paralysed. He’s got the feelin’s in his +limbs, but no power. He lies on his back, and there he’ll +lie for years. He may get better very slowly, they say. +A great doctor from London has been down, and says +with his strength and youth he may bit by bit get back +his strength and power; but anyhow it’ll be a question +of years; and meantime there he’ll lie like a log, and +have to be tended and cared for like a baby.”</p> + +<p>Saul put his hand before his eyes and Abner stopped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">[347]</span> +short, realising that perhaps he had said too much, and +that what had grown familiar to him during these past +days had come on Saul as a shock.</p> + +<p>And indeed it might well do so; for if any one in so +different a position in life could estimate the terrible +death-in-life of such a fate for one with all Eustace’s +enthusiasm and ardent thirst for active work, Saul Tresithny +could; for Eustace had talked with him as man +to man, and had told him of his personal aims and ambitions +and purposes as a man of his class seldom does to +one in a sphere so entirely different.</p> + +<p>“Crippled for life—perhaps! Crippled through my +crime! O my God, can there be forgiveness for this? +Ah! yes—His Blood washes away <i>all</i> sin. But my +punishment seems greater than I can bear!”</p> + +<p>He lay still for a few moments and then half rose up +in bed.</p> + +<p>“I must see him—I must! I must ask his pardon +on my knees. If my Saviour has pardoned my guilt, I +must yet ask pardon of him whom I have so grievously +wronged. Grandfather, help me!—I must go to him. +I cannot die till I have seen him once again!”</p> + +<p>In great perplexity and distress, Abner strove to reason +with the excited patient, and great was his relief when +the doctor appeared suddenly upon the scene.</p> + +<p>Inquiring what all the commotion was about, and learning +that Saul had recovered his senses, but had grown +excited in his desire to see Mr. Marchmont once more, +he thrust out his under lip and regarded the young man +intently, his finger upon his patient’s wrist all the while. +Then he spoke to him quietly and soothingly.</p> + +<p>“I will let you see him to-morrow, if possible,” he said +kindly. “I understand your feeling; but to-night you +must be content to wait and gather a little strength. +Mr. Marchmont is sleeping, and had better not be disturbed; +but if you sleep too, the hours will soon pass.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">[348]</span> +To-morrow I will do what I can to gratify you,” and +having quieted Saul and administered a soothing draught, +he drew Abner with him outside the door.</p> + +<p>“Can he really do it?” asked the old man wonderingly. +“I thought he was like to die at any sudden movement +or exertion.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is true; but there are cases where repose of +mind does more than rest of body. Saul is so near to the +gates of death that it matters little what he does or does +not do. How the heart’s action keeps up at all in the +present condition of the organ I do not know; but the +end cannot be far off. If he is bent on this I shall not +thwart him beyond a certain point. He may have forgotten +by the morning; but if not, we must see what we +can do to get him there. The distance is very short—only +a few steps along this corridor, and through the +swing door, and you are close to Mr. Marchmont’s room. +I think the exertion of movement will try him less than +the tossing and restlessness of unfulfilled expectation +and desire. Let him have his night in peace, if possible. +But if the desire should grow too strong upon him, let +him have his way. It cannot do more than hasten the +inevitable end by a brief span. I am not sure whether +his strength will not desert him at the first attempt to +move, and he may give it up of his own free will; but +do not thwart him beyond a certain point. We doctors +always try to give dying men their way. It is cruelty +to thwart them save to gain some real advantage. In +your grandson’s case there is nothing to be gained. He +is past human skill; but if we can ease his passage by +relieving his mind of any part of its burden, I should not +stand in the way because it might hasten the end by a +brief hour or more.”</p> + +<p>Saul, lying with closed eyes, his senses preternaturally +acute and sharpened by illness, heard every word the +doctor spoke, and a quick thrill of gratitude and thankfulness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">[349]</span> +ran through him. He lay quite still when his +grandfather returned. He gave no sign of having heard. +He was exhausted to an extent which made any sort of +speech or movement impossible at the moment, and told +him even more clearly than the doctor’s words had done +of his close approach to the dark valley. But his mind +was at rest, concentrated upon the one purpose of making +his peace with man, as he had already made it with God. +He felt a perfect confidence that this thing also would be +permitted him, and he lay calm and tranquil, resting and +thinking.</p> + +<p>He saw his grandfather moving softly about the room, +saw him put out beside the fire a suit of his own (Saul’s) +clothes, evidently ready against a possible emergency. +He saw a servant come in with food for them both, and +watched through half-closed eyes while Abner ate his +supper. Then he felt himself made comfortable in bed +and fed with something strong and warm, which gave him +an access of strength. He fell into a light sleep after that, +and when he opened his eyes again, Abner was sleeping +soundly in his chair—sleeping that deep sleep of utter +exhaustion which always follows at last on a prolonged +vigil.</p> + +<p>Saul lay still and watched him, and then a sudden +and intense desire took possession of him. He sat up +in bed, and found himself strong beyond all expectation. +A glass of some cordial was standing at the bedside. +He took it and swallowed the potion, and rose to his +feet. He crossed the room softly, still marvelling at +the power which had come to him, and clad himself in +the warm garments put out in readiness. Abner meantime +slept on, utterly unconscious of what was passing. +To Saul it all seemed like part of the same wonderful +miracle which had been wrought upon his spirit by the +power of the Eternal Spirit of God. His eyes had been +opened at the eleventh hour to see the light; and now<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">[350]</span> +the goodness of God was giving to him just that measure +of physical strength which was needed to accomplish the +last desire of his heart before he should be called away +from this earth.</p> + +<p>Once dressed, there was no difficulty in finding his way +to the room where Eustace lay. Saul knew something +of the castle, and had once been taken by Eustace himself +up the staircase in the servants’ wing, past the +door of this very room, and into the rooms he occupied +to look at some plant under the microscope. He opened +the door softly, and found that the passage was lighted +by a lamp. He was able to walk by supporting one +shoulder against the wall and crawling slowly along. +His breath was very short; every few steps he had to +pause to pant, and there were strange sensations as of +pressure upon his windpipe; but he felt that he had +strength for what he purposed, and he persevered.</p> + +<p>Through the swing door he passed, and into the carpeted +corridor of the main block of building, and here +a light was also burning, whilst the door he remembered +to have opened before stood ajar. He paused there a +moment and looked in. The room was empty, and beyond +lay the sleeping chamber, its door half-open also. Pausing +again to gather breath, Saul passed slowly through that +door, and found himself in a dim and quiet chamber, +where a man-servant kept a quiet watch in a chair beside +the fire; and upon the bed, his eyes closed and his face +quite peaceful, lay Eustace Marchmont.</p> + +<p>But the entrance of this tall, gaunt, spectre-like figure +produced an effect Saul had not calculated upon. The +man-servant well knew Saul Tresithny by sight, and knew +that he lay at the point of death in an adjoining chamber +of the castle. Seeing this figure glide noiselessly through +the door and up to the bed, he fully believed he saw the +young fisherman’s ghost, and springing to his feet with a +cry of terror, he fled precipitately from the room, overcome<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">[351]</span> +by invincible fear. The cry awoke Eustace, and the +next moment he and Saul Tresithny were looking into +each other’s eyes—almost as men might look who had +passed beyond the realms of this world and had met in +the land of spirits.</p> + +<p>“Is that you, Saul—in the flesh?” asked Eustace +faintly. “I have asked for you, but never thought to +see you again.”</p> + +<p>“I have come to ask forgiveness of you,” cried Saul in +a choked voice, sinking to his knees beside the bed, partly +through physical weakness, partly through the abasement +of his self-humiliation. “I am dying, sir; I am glad +to die, for I know my sins are forgiven by a merciful +Saviour. But oh! I feel I cannot go without your forgiveness +too! I have done you so terrible an injury. +Ah! let me hear you say you can forgive me even that +before I go!”</p> + +<p>The voice was choked and strained. Saul’s head sank +heavily upon the bed. Eustace heard the gasping breath, +and a hoarse rattle in the throat, which told its own tale. +With a great effort he just lifted his hand and laid it on +the bowed head.</p> + +<p>“My poor fellow,” he said, “you have as much to forgive +as I. May God forgive you all your sins, as I forgive all +you have done amiss towards me, and as I pray I may be +myself forgiven for such part and lot as I have had in +much of sin that has stained your past life.”</p> + +<p>With one last effort Saul raised his head, and saw +standing beside him a shining figure which he took to be +one of the angels from heaven. A wonderful, radiant +smile lit up his haggard face, his eyes seemed to look +through and beyond those about him, and with the faint +but rapturous cry—</p> + +<p>“My Lord and my God!” he fell prone upon the +bed.</p> + +<p>Bride, aroused by the cry of the servant, had come<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">[352]</span> +in hastily, clad in her white flowing wrapper, with her +hair about her shoulders, and laid a soft hand upon his +head as she said in a very low voice—</p> + +<p>“Lord, into Thine Almighty Hands we commend the +spirit of this our brother!” and even as she spoke the +words, both she and Eustace knew that the soul of Saul +Tresithny had returned to the God who gave it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b352.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">[353]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b353.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII<br /> + +<i>BRIDE’S PROPOSAL</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b017p.jpg" alt="P" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap2">“PAPA,” said Bride softly, coming into the Duke’s +study and standing behind his chair with her +arms loosely clasped about his neck, “will you +let me marry Eustace now?”</p> + +<p>The Duke gave a very slight start, and then sat perfectly +still. He could not see Bride’s face, and he was +glad for a moment that his own could not be seen.</p> + +<p>“My dear child,” he said, after an appreciable pause, +“do you mean that you do not know?”</p> + +<p>“I think I know everything,” answered Bride softly. +“I know that Eustace will be as he is now for two or +three years—perhaps all his life; but I do not think it +will be that—I mean not all his life. I had a long talk +before he went with the doctor from London, and he said +he was almost confident that power would return, only +the patient must have good nursing, care, and freedom +from worry of mind, or anxious fears for himself, which +might react unfavourably upon him. It is only for a +few years he will be helpless; and I want to be his wife +during those years, to help him through with them, to +keep him from the worry and the care which I believe he +will feel if he thinks he may perhaps never be a strong +man again, never be able to ask me to marry him. I +know that he loves me, papa, and that I can do more for +him than anybody else. I know that even now he is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">[354]</span> +beginning to lose heart, not because his work is stopped—he +is most wonderfully brave over that—but because +he thinks he may lose me. Does it sound vain to say +that? But indeed it is true. I can read Eustace through +and through, because I love him so. Why should I not +be his wife? Then I could nurse him back to health and +strength, and he could stay here with us all the time, and +we should be so happy together!”</p> + +<p>The Duke had been silent at first from sheer amaze. +He had never yet entered into all the still depths of +Bride’s nature; and though personally conscious of his +disappointment that his daughter and heir could not now +think of marriage till the health of the latter was reestablished, +he had never thought of a different solution +of the difficulty with regard to Eustace in his helpless +and lonely condition. He had been grieving over the +situation in silence many long days, but the thing that +Bride suggested so quietly and persuasively had never +entered his head.</p> + +<p>Yet even as she spoke there came upon him a conviction +of the truth of her words. None knew better +than he the comfort and support that a man can receive +from a loving and tender wife. He was beginning to +recognise in his daughter those very traits of character +which had been so strongly developed in her mother. +Well could he understand what it would be to Eustace +to be nursed and tended, consoled and strengthened, by +such a wife. Doubtless it would be an enormously +powerful factor in his recovery, and the father had long +wished with a great desire to see the future of his child +settled before many more months should pass. It had +been a sad blow to him to hear that Eustace’s recovery +must be so slow, for he felt very sure he should not live +to see him on his feet again; and what would become of +Bride, left so utterly alone in the world?</p> + +<p>Now he drew her gently towards him, and she knelt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">[355]</span> +beside him at his feet, looking up into his face with a +soft and lovely colour in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>“Has Eustace spoken of this to you, my dear?” he +said.</p> + +<p>“Ah no!” she answered quickly. “Is it likely he +would? He calls himself a helpless log; and I know +that the worst trouble of all is, that he thinks his +helplessness divides him from me. Papa, I want you to +go to him. I want you to tell him that we will be +married very soon—as soon as it can be arranged—and +that I will nurse him back to health. Tell him that +we will stay happily together here, and have only one +home, here at Penarvon. I know you do not want to +lose me, yet I know (for you have told me) that you +would like to see me Eustace’s wife. Well, it is all +so easy. Do you not see it so yourself? Dearest father, +I love him, and he loves me. What can anything else +matter? Does not his weakness and his helplessness +make me love him all the more? I want to have the +right to be with him always, to lighten the load which +will weigh on him, however brave and patient he is, +heavily sometimes. I shall never love anybody else; +and I think he will not either. Why should we wait? +Why should we not have the happiness of belonging to +one another before he is strong again as well as after? +Why should those years be wasted for us both?”</p> + +<p>The Duke looked into her soft, unfathomable eyes, and +he ceased to oppose her.</p> + +<p>“It shall be as you wish, my dear,” he said. “I believe +had it been with me as it is with Eustace, your mother +would have done just what you propose to do. God has +His angels here below amongst us still. I will go and +speak of this to Eustace, if you wish it. You are right, +my child, in saying that I would fain see you married +to Eustace, since you love each other. I had not thought +of this way, but perhaps it is the best.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">[356]</span>“You will come and tell me what he says,” answered +Bride, with a lovely blush upon her face; and the Duke +went slowly upstairs to the sick-room.</p> + +<p>Eustace was gaining vital power rapidly and most +satisfactorily, and was not paralysed in the ordinary +acceptation of the term; but he had received such violent +blows in the spine, either from the force of the waves +whilst he was tossed to and fro at their mercy, or by +being dashed upon rocks—though there were few outward +bruises or cuts—that the whole nervous power had been +most seriously impaired, and he could neither raise +himself in bed nor move any of his limbs, although +sensation was not materially affected. It was a case +likely to be tedious and trying rather than dangerous +or hopeless. There was every prospect of an ultimate +recovery; but great patience would be needed, and any +premature attempts at exertion might lead to bad results. +Eustace had heard his fate with resolute courage, and +had breathed no word of repining since; but a gravity +had settled down upon him which deepened rather than +lessened day by day; and Bride had been quick to note +this, and trace it to its source.</p> + +<p>With the Duke, the relations of the young man were +now of a most cordial character. His kinsman had +played a father’s part to him during these past days, and +his visits were always welcome in the monotony of sick-room +life.</p> + +<p>“I have been talking to Bride,” said the elder man, as +he took his accustomed seat; “we have been talking about +your marriage, Eustace, and neither she nor I see why it +should be indefinitely postponed. Indeed, there seems +good reason for hastening it on, since she can then +be your companion and nurse, as is not possible now, +greatly as she wishes it. We cannot think of parting +with you till you are well and strong once more, and that +will not be for some time even at best. Have I your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">[357]</span> +authority to arrange with Mr. St. Aubyn for a marriage +here as quickly as it can be arranged? Since your minds +are both made up, there appears no reason why Bride +should not have the comfort of caring for you and making +you her charge. Perhaps you hardly estimate the joy +which such a charge is to a woman of her loving nature. +But you know her well enough to believe that she never +speaks a word that is not literal truth; and as she wishes +to have that privilege, I confess I see no legitimate +objection.”</p> + +<p>Eustace had been silent, much as the Duke had been +silent when the girl laid her proposal before him. Sheer +astonishment and an unbounded sense of his own unworthiness +and her almost divine devotion and love held +him spellbound for a moment; and when his words came +they were tempestuous and contradictory, declaring one +moment the thing impossible—Bride’s youth must not be +so sacrificed—the next declaring that it was too much +happiness, that he dared not accept it, because it was altogether +too much joy to contemplate. The Duke let him +have his fling, and then took up his word again, imposing +silence by a gentle motion of the hand.</p> + +<p>“I respect your doubts and your scruples, Eustace; +but I think you need not let them weigh too heavily +in the balance against your own wishes and ours. I +will take you into my confidence, and I think you will +then see that even for Bride’s sake this thing is a good +one. She does not know it, but I have a mortal illness +upon me, which may carry me off at any moment, though +I may perhaps be spared some few years longer. I myself +consulted the physician whom we summoned for you, +and he admitted that my life was a bad one, and that with +my family history I must not look to be spared much longer. +You know how lonely Bride would be were I taken +from her. You can imagine how greatly I desire to see +her settled in life with a husband to love and cherish her.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">[358]</span> +Were I to die whilst you were thus laid aside, you must +of necessity be separated, and where would Bride go? +What would she do? Money is not everything. A home—a +husband’s care—that is what a woman wants. Eustace, +if you are made man and wife now, all this anxiety will +be done away, and the happiness of all will be secured. +Will you not consent? It all rests with you, for I desire +it, and Bride desires it—I think you desire it——”</p> + +<p>“Only too much!” cried Eustace, with such a light in +his eyes as had not been seen there for weeks, “only +too much. I am afraid of my own intensity of desire.”</p> + +<p>“If that is all, we may dismiss the objection as +frivolous,” said the Duke with a slight smile. “Then I +have your consent to make the arrangements? I will go +and tell Bride, and send her to you.”</p> + +<p>She came within half-an-hour, calm, tranquil, serene as +ever, a lovely colour in her face, but no other outward +sign of excitement or confusion. Her eyes sought his +with one of those glances he had learned to look for +and treasure; and when she came to his side she bent and +kissed him, which hitherto she had not made a habit of +doing.</p> + +<p>“Bride,” he said softly, getting possession of her hand, +“is this true?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Eustace,” she answered softly; “I do not think +we can love each other more than we do; but we can +belong to each other more when we have been joined +together by God. That is what I want, to be one with you +in His sight, so that nothing can part us more.”</p> + +<p>He looked earnestly at her, the love in his eyes as +eloquent as it was in hers, and scarcely as much under +control.</p> + +<p>“You are not afraid, my darling? You were afraid of +trusting yourself to me once?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she answered gently; “I had not learned to love +you then, and you had not learned love either. You have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">[359]</span> +only learned that slowly, as I have learned it slowly +myself.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know I have learned it—the love which +you mean?”</p> + +<p>She looked at him with a smile that brought an answering +smile to his face.</p> + +<p>“Do you think I have been with you all these weeks, +in and out, by day and night, and have not known that? +Do you forget how you showed it in those days when you +seemed to be slipping away from life, and only the eternal +promises of everlasting love and help could reach you to +help and strengthen you? You did not talk, but you +made us talk to you, and your eyes gave their answer. +You found then that it was not a beautiful philosophy, +but a living Saviour you wanted; not an abstraction +representing an ideal purity, but a Man, the one Incarnate +Son of God, to whom you must cling in the darkness of +the night. Ah! Eustace, it was then that you truly turned +back to the Father’s house; and I know that the Father +came out to meet you, and to bring you into His safe +shelter. I knew He would—oh! I think I have known +that for a long time now; but the joy of the certainty is +so wonderful and beautiful——”</p> + +<p>Her voice broke, and she turned her head away for a +moment, but he said softly—</p> + +<p>“The angels of God rejoicing over one sinner that +repenteth? Is that it, Bride? For you are a veritable +angel upon earth!”</p> + +<p>“Ah no!” she answered quickly, “do not say that—do +not think it. Holy and blessed as the angels of God are, we +have yet a higher vocation—a higher calling to live up to. +It is a human body, not an angelic body, that our Lord +took and sanctified to all eternity. It is for fallen human +creatures, not for the angels, that He came down to die. +And it is glorified human beings, changed into His glorious +likeness, who are called to live and reign with Him in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">[360]</span> +glory unspeakable. I never want to be an angel. Ours +is a more truly blessed and glorious calling. To be His +at His coming. To hear His voice, and be caught up to +meet Him in the air. To be ever with the Lord—kings +and priests for ever and ever! O Eustace! we cannot +conceive of such a thing yet; but the day <i>will</i> come when +the kingdoms of this world shall become the Kingdoms of +our God and of His Christ, and He shall reign for ever +and ever!”</p> + +<p>The face she turned upon him was as it were transfigured +already, and it seemed to Eustace as though for a +moment a curtain lifted before his eyes and showed him +a glimpse of some unspeakable glory which lay beyond +the ken of mortal man. For the first time since he had +known her he began to understand that what had seemed +to him as the outcome of a mystic fanaticism might be +in reality the development of some purer spiritual understanding +than he had been able to attain to. Lying for +days at the gate of the unseen world as he had done, +he had learned that many things formerly slighted and +almost despised were the very things which brought a +man peace at the last, and which glowed and strengthened +beneath the mysterious fire of peril that turned to dross +and nothingness the wisdom in which he had trusted, +and the staff upon which he had tried to lean. Having +learned this much, he could believe there was more to +learn; that even when fear was cast out and faith reigned +in its stead, there was still progress to be made in the +heavenly life. He did indeed believe that the Saviour +had died for the sins of the whole world, and that He +lived to make intercession eternally for those who claimed +the Atonement of His blood. But now he began to +understand that for those who truly love Him and +walk every step of their lives in the light from above, +there is a vision of unspeakable and unimagined glory +always open before them; and that, leaving those things<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">[361]</span> +that are behind, there is a continual pressing forward +to the prize of our high calling in Christ—the one overmastering +desire so to live as to be His at His coming, +and be used for His eternal purpose of establishing His +Kingdom on the earth.</p> + +<p>“Bride,” he said softly, after a long pause, “you must +teach me more of this Kingdom. I had hoped to do a +great work for our fellow-men in this land, and even +now I may live to do something; but I can at least seek +to understand God’s ways of working, which are not +always man’s ways; that if it please Him to raise me +up, I may consecrate my life, <i>first</i> to His service, and +secondly to the service of man. Abner truly told me I +was beginning at the wrong end when I first spoke to +him long ago. I did not understand him then, but I +begin to do so now. I may never see things clearly, as +you do, in the heavenly light; but at least I do see that +our first aim and object must be to do God’s work on +earth in His way; not blinded by our own wishes and +ambitions. The fate of poor Saul Tresithny will always +be a warning and a landmark to me. He <i>might</i> have +grown as wild and reckless without my teaching—with +that I have nothing to do—but I did teach him dangerous +doctrines of all sorts, and his life and death are +a standing memorial to me of what such teaching may +lead to. I trust the lesson has not been learned in +vain.”</p> + +<p>“And I think his death was a very happy one,” said +Bride softly. “I think I am glad he died with us alone. +He loved you, Eustace. And I am sure if any of us +had our choice, we should always choose to be with the +being we love best at the moment of our death. It +was so with him. I think it was rather beautiful +and wonderful how he rose and came to you when the +hand of death was upon him. Poor Saul!—but we need +not grieve for him. Abner has ceased to grieve, and is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">[362]</span> +more peaceful and happy than I have seen him for many +years. ‘To depart and be with Christ’ was so much better +for him than anything he had to expect upon earth. +He learned his lesson at the last—I am sure his end +was peace.”</p> + +<p>After that there was no reserve on any subject between +Eustace and his betrothed wife. Bride was able +to speak to him from the very depths of her heart, and +as she elevated and strengthened his spiritual perceptions, +so did he in another fashion impart to her such +knowledge of the things of this world as were beneficial +to her in forming her mind and character, and helping +her to obtain a just and accurate outlook upon the affairs +of the nation and the events moving the hearts of men. +They acted as a check one upon the other; helping, +strengthening, teaching, and encouraging—growing every +day nearer in love and in spirit, finding fresh happiness +and closer unity of soul each day as it passed, and always +upheld by the thought that a few days more would see +their union hallowed and blessed in the sight of God—a +thought so unspeakably sweet and precious to both that +they seldom spoke of it, though it was never altogether +out of their thoughts.</p> + +<p>Mr. St. Aubyn was to perform the ceremony, with the +cordial consent of Mr. Tremodart, who was glad to be +spared the task himself. The Rector of St. Erme had +been much at the castle when Eustace lay in so critical +a state, and the young man had profited much from his +instruction and counsel. Now he came frequently to +see both Bride and her betrothed husband, for he was +one of those who rejoice to see true spirituality in all +its forms, and to be certain before hearing pronounced +any solemn and binding vows that they are spoken from +the very heart.</p> + +<p>The Duke went about looking very happy in those +days, and his manner to his daughter was more gentle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">[363]</span> +and fatherly than it had ever been before. The whole +castle was in a subdued state of excitement, whilst a +lawyer from London arrived, who was to remain till the +completion of the ceremony and see to all the needful +papers. But with these things Bride felt little concern, +and went about with a tranquil face, thankful to be +spared the bustle of preparation which would have been +needful under ordinary circumstances, but which was +quite superfluous now.</p> + +<p>A bridal dress and veil were, however, quickly provided, +and Bride was content that it should be so, knowing +that her white would be pleasing to the eye of the +sick man. She herself was calmly and tranquilly happy, +spending much time beside the patient, and the rest in +earnest musings and meditation, or in visits to the poor, +amongst whom so much of her life had been passed.</p> + +<p>It was a clear, sunny morning toward the end of +January when Bride awoke with the consciousness that +it was her wedding-day—though so quiet and uneventful +a wedding as was to be hers perhaps no Duke’s daughter +had yet known. Even her name would not be changed, +as Eustace had playfully told her, nor would she leave +the shelter of her father’s roof. All the change that +would take place would be that she and her husband +would take up their quarters in a suite of rooms specially +prepared for them, with Bride’s nurse and Eustace’s man +for their especial attendants. But the young wife would +continue to take her place at her father’s table when he +took his meals, waiting upon her husband and sharing +his at different hours, such hours as were prescribed by +his medical man. Although all this sounded strange to +outsiders, who heard with amaze that Lady Bride was +going to marry her father’s heir while he was still crippled +and helpless, it did not seem strange to her. Others +said it was an obvious marriage of convenience and diplomacy, +but never had been a marriage of purer and truer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">[364]</span> +affection. Bride robed herself with a happy heart and a +serene face, and was not surprised to receive a message +at the last that Abner would much like a few words with +his young mistress, if she could spare them for him.</p> + +<p>He was in the great conservatory when she went down—the +place where so many talks had taken place between +them, and where Bride pictured Eustace lying in comfort +and pleasure before very long, surrounded by sweet +scents and beautiful blossoms. Abner held in his hand +a beautiful bouquet of white flowers, and Bride thanked +him with one of her sweetest smiles as she took it from +his hands.</p> + +<p>“I did want to see yu my own self, my Ladybird,” he +said in a voice that shook a little, “to wish yu every joy +and a blessing on your new life. I know there will be a +blessing on it, for there’s One above as has yu very near +His heart; but yu’ll let an old man as has loved yu ever +since yu were a babe in the nurse’s arms give yu his +blessing to-day.”</p> + +<p>Bride held out her slim white hand, which the old man +took and carried very tenderly to his lips; and her voice +shook a little as she said, “Thank you for that blessing, +Abner. I feel my heart the warmer for it. We know +that this world’s happiness is but a small thing compared +to the glory that is to be revealed; but yet we must be +thankful when it does come to us, and take it as God’s +best gift. I think that your heart is at peace now, and +that your worst trouble is laid at rest.”</p> + +<p>“Bless the Lord—it is so indeed. My boy died with +His name on his lips. I couldn’t ask more for myself.”</p> + +<p>Bride could not linger. Mr. St. Aubyn had already +arrived and wished to speak with her alone. She found +him pacing the room with slow and thoughtful mien, but +his eyes were very bright and glad.</p> + +<p>“My child,” he said softly, “I wished to speak with +you a few moments before we go upstairs. I have just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">[365]</span> +been seeing him you are to wed. My dear, I think I +need not say all that I feel about the change I find in +him since first I knew him. I can pronounce the benediction +of holy matrimony over you two with a glad and +thankful heart. In the sight of man and of God such a +union as yours must be holy indeed.”</p> + +<p>Bride’s eyes were softly bright.</p> + +<p>“I know we love one another,” she said softly, “but I +think that the love of God comes first—indeed, I trust it +is so.”</p> + +<p>“I believe so truly,” he answered; “and, my child, I +have been talking to-day to Eustace. He has long been +hindered by sickness from the ordinances of the Church—the +most blessed ordinance instituted by our Lord for +His faithful people to follow until His coming again. +Before that, as you know, he was something slack and +doubtful, and did not avail himself of the Christian privileges +in their fullest measure; and it is long since +he has partaken of the bread and wine blessed in the +name of the Lord. And he wishes now that he may +receive this Holy Communion with you—his newly wedded +wife—so soon as you are made one. I indeed have thankfully +and joyfully assented to this, and even now the room +is being prepared for the simple ceremony which shall make +you his, and then you can together partake of that Body +and Blood—the sign and symbol of the Ineffable Love. +I am sure, my child, that your heart will rejoice, as mine +does, over this return of the lost sheep to the fold. We +have known for long that that son has been turning homewards, +and that the Father has gone forth to meet him. +Now we shall see him at the Father’s table, partaking of +the mystical feast which it is our Christian privilege to +enjoy. ‘Do this in remembrance of Me.’ It will, I know, +be a joyous thing for you that the following of this +gracious and simple command shall be the first act of +your married life.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">[366]</span>Tears were standing in Bride’s soft eyes. She put out +her hand and laid it on Mr. St. Aubyn’s arm.</p> + +<p>“I am too happy to talk about it,” she said; “it is the +one thing to make the day complete; but oh! Mr. St. +Aubyn, I have so often wanted to thank you for what +you said to me that day long ago about the lost son and +the returning home. It was such a help. It was that +which made me begin to pray in hope for Eustace, +instead of naming him only in a sort of faithless despondency. +I was in danger of being like the elder brother, +and looking upon him and many others as altogether +beyond the pale of the Father’s love. After that I could +always pray in hope; and I think—I believe, that my +prayers did help him. You know what you said about +that being God’s way of leading to Him some one who +would not yet pray for himself.”</p> + +<p>The clergyman smiled tenderly upon the girl.</p> + +<p>“God bless you, my child,” he said softly. “I think you +will be your mother over again as the years go by. Such +faith as hers I have never seen in any one else, but I +think I shall live to see it in you.”</p> + +<p>“I have received so much,” answered Bride softly, “I +should not be able to doubt even if I wished.”</p> + +<p>Only a few minutes later, and Bride entered the room +where Eustace lay, leaning on her father’s arm, her face +shaded by her veil, but not so concealed that its serene +beauty and composure could not be seen. Some dozen of +the old servants of the castle, and two or three old friends, +were present to witness the simple ceremony; but Bride +only saw Eustace; and none who caught the glance that +flashed from one to the other ever forgot it. The room +was decked with flowers, everything was perfectly simple, +yet perfectly appropriate, and Mr. St. Aubyn’s rendering +of the holy words was doubly impressive from the peculiar +circumstances of the case. Bride’s vows were spoken with +a steady sweetness which brought tears to many eyes; all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">[367]</span> +the faltering was on Eustace’s part, and was made through +the depth of his emotion. It was a strangely simple yet +strangely impressive wedding, never forgotten by those +who saw it. When all was spoken that was needed to +make them man and wife, Bride stooped and kissed her +husband, without a thought of any who stood by, and +they heard the passionate intensity of love in the voice +that responded—</p> + +<p>“My Bride—my wife!”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b367.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">[368]</span> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_b368.jpg" alt="" /></div> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV<br /> + +<i>CONCLUSION</i></h2> +</div> + +<div> + <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_b111b.jpg" alt="B" /> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">BRIDE was riding homewards from Pentreath to +the castle on a sunny day early in June. The +sound of joy-bells was in the air, the faces +of men were glad and triumphant, all nature +seemed in tune with the general rejoicing which some +recent event had plainly set on foot; and the young wife’s +face was glad, too, though thoughtfully and temperately. +For she knew that the news of which she was the bearer +would gladden the heart of her husband, though it would +not be to him now that source of triumphant exhilaration +which it would have been a year before.</p> + +<p>Behind her rode the servant with a bag full of papers +at his saddle-bow. It was these letters and newspapers +which had been the object of Bride’s ride that day. Her +husband had persuaded her to go herself on the chance +of news; he was always glad to make an excuse to induce +her to take the amount of needful air and exercise which +was good for her health, and she always found it so hard +to leave him.</p> + +<p>But to-day she had been persuaded, and was now +riding rapidly homewards with her budget of news, +knowing how impatiently her husband and father at +home would be awaiting her return.</p> + +<p>Dismounting at the castle door, and taking the bag +from the hands of the servant, she passed hastily through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">[369]</span> +hall and corridor into the great conservatory, where Eustace +was now daily wheeled upon his couch. Since the beginning +of May he had been taken down to a ground-floor +room in the wing which he and his wife occupied, in +order that, when possible, he might be taken out of doors, +or into this pleasant place of flowers. He had made as +much progress as the most sanguine could hope for during +the past months, and recovery was considered now only a +matter of time and patience. Time and patience were the +only doctors for such a case as his, and Eustace surprised +all who came in contact with him by the extreme patience +and cheerfulness he showed under a condition of helplessness +so trying to youthful manhood; but he would say, +with a smile, that Bride made life too sweet for him for +any repining to be possible. Each day he found filled +with happiness—the happiness of her presence, and of +that full community of soul which made their union what +it was. Every day brought its own measure of temporal +happiness and spiritual growth; and though the young +man looked forward with ardent expectation to the hope +of being able to fight the battle of life once more, and +work in the service of his fellow-men, he recognised fully +and freely that this period of enforced idleness had been +sent him by the Father in mercy and love, and was resolved +that the lesson it was sent to teach him should not +be learnt in vain.</p> + +<p>The way in which his face kindled at the sight of his +wife was a sight good to see. She came quickly forward, +bent over and kissed him, and said softly—</p> + +<p>“It is good news, Eustace. The Lords have passed the +bill!”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” he said, and drew a long breath. “I felt it +would be so when the King was obliged to recall Lord +Grey. All parties must have known then that the mind +of the country was made up, and that the thing was +right, and must be made law. Have you read the news?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">[370]</span>“No; I only heard what they were all saying in +Pentreath. I met many friends, and they all told me +something. The Duke of Wellington, when he found +the King would create enough new peers to pass the bill, +if that was the only resource left, retired from his place +in the House, and, some say, will retire from public life +altogether. Lord Wharncliffe and his party of waverers +came over at once to the side of Lord Grey, and so the +bill was passed at once. The people are wild with +delight, the bells are being rung, and bonfires are being +built up. I sometimes wonder whether they really +understand what it is that they rejoice at. They seem +to think that some wonderfully good time is coming for +them. Poor creatures! I fear they will be disappointed. +An act of constitutional justice has been done; but the +troubles of England lie far, far deeper than an imperfect +system of constitutional representation.”</p> + +<p>Eustace was eagerly skimming the contents of newspapers +and private letters, and from time to time giving +bits of information to his wife; but the sense of her +words came home to his mind for all that, and by-and-bye, +laying down the papers, he said—</p> + +<p>“That is only too true, Bride. That is the very point +upon which my eyes have been opened latterly. I used +to think that good government and pure government +was the backbone of a nation’s prosperity and well-being—as +in one sense of the word it is. I mean, that if +all men were doing their utmost to walk in the ways +appointed by God, we should have a pure and good +government, and the nation would prosper. But I see +only too clearly now that I was quite deceived in my +old belief that this country and the world can ever be +renovated and made good by any scheme of political +reform instituted by man. We may do our best to be +just and temperate, to act uprightly, and think impartially +of the interests of all classes; but that alone will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">[371]</span> +never raise them, never give them true happiness, never +lift them out of the degradation into which they, as well +as too many of us so-called ‘superiors,’ have fallen. +There is only one Power which can do that, only one +Power mighty enough for that task, and that is the +Power of which I fear that we, as a nation of politicians +and upright rulers, think singularly little. The time may +come when we shall awake to the remembrance that +God must be Ruler in the earth if right and justice and +equity are to be done; but at present, though we listen +to such words with approval from the pulpit, we are +absolutely ignorant how to put them into daily practice, +and our profession and practice are utterly at variance. +That is where our failure comes in, and where +I, for one, foresee failure all along the line. This bill +may be the inauguration of an enlightened and liberal +policy for the next generation; but my old hope of +seeing the world raised out of its misery, its degradation, +its wickedness by any such means, is fading fast +within me.”</p> + +<p>Bride was silent for a while, looking out before her +with a sweet sad smile upon her fair face.</p> + +<p>“It will not be achieved by such means,” she said +quietly at last; “and yet, if men would but look to the +Lord for help and deliverance, I truly believe He would +show us the perfect way, and restore to us those things +which are lacking in the order of our daily lives, of our +worship, of our government. We know that the powers +that be are ordained of God; but we have lost so much +of His guidance. Yet I verily believe that if men would +with one voice and one heart cry to Him for light and +guidance, He would send it to them, even as in days of +old. Is He not the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever? +Though we have forsaken Him, yet He has not forsaken +us. As He spoke by holy men of old, moved by His +Spirit, so I truly believe He would speak again had men<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">[372]</span> +but faith to listen. But it is that which is always the +stumbling-block—the hindrance. Men have lost their +faith; they will not believe that God is still amongst +them, even as of old—nay, far more truly and nearly than +of old; for Christ is the living Head of His Church, and +all who believe and are baptized are very members of +His mystical Body. And yet we say He is far away, He +has passed into the heavens, He is no more working with +and amongst us, save through the workings of the Spirit +in our hearts. But I feel so very, very sure that, would +we let Him, He would fain be much more to us than +that, as indeed He will be one day—in the day when the +Kingdom shall be set up on earth.”</p> + +<p>Eustace drew a long breath. He, too, lying there in +helplessness, and seeing much of the brightness of his +early visions fade into dimness as he watched the course +of events and learned to see more of the workings of this +world, had come to think with a great longing of the +coming Kingdom, when all that is vile and evil shall be +done away, and when Christ Himself shall be revealed +and rule in righteousness. Once that thought had seemed +to him as the veriest vision of the mystic; now he had +come to long for it himself with a great and increasing +longing. Loving his fellow-men as he did, he yet +loved the Lord more; and to see Him reigning over the +world, and the misery and the sin all done away, was a +prospect too bright and happy not to excite his ardent +longings. Even in his satisfaction at the news just +brought, he could yet think with calm hopefulness of the +time when the crooked things should be made straight, +and the rough places plain, and men should live together +in peace and love, and strivings and hatred should be +done away.</p> + +<p>“And until that day comes,” he said softly at last, +“we shall do more to help our brethren by teaching +them to look for the Kingdom of God and of His Christ,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">[373]</span> +than by stirring up in their hearts desires after earthly +good which perhaps may never be theirs.”</p> + +<p>Bride looked up with a sweet smile.</p> + +<p>“Ah! that is just what I feel about it, Eustace; let +us do all that is right for them, but teach them to +strive after contentment and love of God themselves. +That is the only thing that will really raise them or +make them truly happy.”</p> + +<p>“Seek ye first——” said Eustace musingly, not finishing +the quotation, for there was no need. “After all, that +is the best and highest wisdom, though for eighteen +hundred years men have had the answer to their strivings +and heart-burnings under their hand, and have not known +how to use it. You must help me, sweet wife, in the +future, when I go forth, as I trust by God’s mercy I may, +to take my place in the battle of life, and stand up for +the right and the truth, as I may be called upon to do, +to bear in mind that great precept, for without it we can +accomplish nothing.”</p> + +<p>Bride gave him an eloquent glance, but made no +reply, for her father was coming in, anxious to know the +news.</p> + +<p>She told her tale once more, and the papers were read +and discussed between the two men with eager interest. +It was strange how, by almost imperceptible degrees, +those two had drawn together—not entirely in opinion, +but in mutual understanding and sympathy, so that +differences of opinion seemed trifles. Now it was real +pleasure to both to be together; and though they still +argued and disputed, it was in a spirit of toleration and +mutual respect and liking which made such argument +pleasant and stimulating rather than irritating. The +Duke took a more despondent view of the future of the +country than Eustace, and had far less confidence in the +success of the coming era of more liberal principles of +government for redressing wrongs and bringing about a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">[374]</span> +lasting state of prosperity and peace; but then Eustace +was far less sanguine about the coming Utopia, far more +patient and reasonable when existing wrongs were discussed, +far less confident in the powers of legislation for +the elevation of mankind than he once had been. Like +many other ardent young dreamers in the forefront of +the battle of reform, he had practically left out of his +calculations the mystery of original sin—the inherent +corruption of men’s hearts, and their perversity of vision, +their determination to do evil until their eyes are opened +to see God’s dealings in all things, and their hearts are +purified by the Holy Spirit. No system, however perfect, +will ever make men righteous that does not first +lead them to God. It was this that Eustace had never +realised before when he sought to raise men by increased +prosperity, and wiser and more just legislation. Now he +had begun to see the futility of his former dreams, and +insensibly he grew to sympathise with the feelings of his +kinsman, who had lived through so many crises of the +world’s history, but had found at the end that human +nature was never changed, and that no era of bliss and +joy followed upon the violent efforts made to secure a +better order of things.</p> + +<p>Leaving them to talk thus together and to discuss the +situation to their hearts’ content, Bride stole away into +the garden, and wandered along some of the shady paths, +thinking her own thoughts, and filled with a sense of +profound thankfulness and joy in the unity of spirit now +existing between herself and her husband. It was the +same daily joy to her that it was to him, and her heart +was charged with a peace and restful content that sometimes +seemed to her to be a foretaste of the Kingdom +itself, towards which her heart was always turning.</p> + +<p>In one of the alleys of the rose-garden she came upon +Abner, who was tying up the young shoots upon the +arch, and picking off the dead blossoms. He welcomed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">[375]</span> +her with the smile that the sight of her always called up +in his eyes, and stood still with a face full of interest +whilst she told him the news.</p> + +<p>“Well, well, well,” he said when she had done, “may be +it’ll be a good thing. It sounds just, and right, and +reasonable; but I don’t understand these big matters, +and there’s a deal to be said on both sides, so far as I +can see. My poor boy would have been pleased. He +was terrible set on it; but I used to think that when he +got it, he would find himself as discontented as ever, +and set off after some new teacher who would tell him +this was only the beginning of what men must demand. +May be he sees things clearer now. I sometimes think +we’ll know a deal better what to think of such matters +once we are free of the burden of the sinful flesh. But +there’s always comfort in the thought that the Lord’s +working in one way or another in all these things. He +sees the fulfilment of His purpose all through, though we +can’t. That’s what I comfort myself with when things +seem blackest. The frost and the snow, the biting winds +and the storms, all seem against the gardener; but by-and-bye +he sees they all have their use, and his plants +would not have done as well without them. I always +go back to that when I’m perplexed and worried. The +great Gardener will bring out His perfected garden on +the earth in time; and it should be enough for us to be +trying to help Him on in our little corner, without thinking +He can’t rule the world without us.”</p> + +<p>Bride smiled as she answered softly—</p> + +<p>“Yes; though perhaps He wants to use some of us for +great tasks, as He uses us all for little ones. But I know +what you mean, Abner, and I feel with you. We can +never fully understand God’s purposes till they are revealed +to us in His perfect Kingdom; but we can all +strive to live the life of the Kingdom here below, as far +as our sinful natures will let us, and try to make just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">[376]</span> +the little corner about us bear flowers and fruit, as a +garden should. I do not think we shall be called upon +for any great work. I think our lot will lie here, away +in the west, in this little place. But, for my part, I shall +be content if we can bring the hope and the life of the +Kingdom into just this little corner of the vineyard—to +our sisters and brothers of St. Bride’s Bay.”</p> + +<p class="center">THE END</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> + +<p>The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber using the original cover as the background and is entered into the public domain.</p> +</div></div> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68596 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/68596-h/images/cover.jpg b/68596-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ecf0b7c --- /dev/null +++ b/68596-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/68596-h/images/coversmall.jpg 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