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| author | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2025-11-16 10:07:30 -0800 |
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| committer | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2025-11-16 10:07:30 -0800 |
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diff --git a/77248-h/77248-h.htm b/77248-h/77248-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c72bc4 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/77248-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4254 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Fan's Silken String │ Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size:12.0pt; + font-family:"Verdana"; +} + +p {text-indent: 2em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.w100 { + width: auto + } + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 125%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t2 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3b { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center + } + +p.t4 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center + } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77248 ***</div> + +<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"> +</figure> +<p class="t4"> + + <b><em>[Frontispiece.</em></b><br> +<b>"WILL YOU GIVE ME A DAY'S WORK, SIR?"</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h1>FAN'S SILKEN STRING</h1> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +ANNETTE LYSTER<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +—————————————<br> +PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE COMMITTEE<br> +OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION APPOINTED BY THE<br> +SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.<br> +—————————————<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +LONDON:<br> +<br> +SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE. W.C.;<br> +43, QUEEN VICTORIA STREET. E.C.<br> +BRIGHTON: 129, NORTH STREET.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS.<br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image004" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image004.jpg" alt="image004"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>CHAPTER</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_1">I. BEN FAIRFAX'S WALKING TOUR</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_2">II. HOW BEN CARRIED OFF HIS SISTER</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_3">III. WANDERINGS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_4">IV. PEARL</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_5">V. HOW BEN'S SIN FOUND HIM OUT</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_6">VI. "ARE YOU THERE, BEN?"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_7">VII. HOW FAN SPUN A SECOND SILKEN THREAD</a></p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>FAN'S SILKEN STRING</b><br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>BEN FAIRFAX'S WALKING TOUR.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>MANY years ago, on one of the loveliest of summer days—a day which +seemed made on purpose to enable farmers to save their hay—there was a +great haymaking going on in a large field belonging to a farm in one +of the midland counties of England. It was so long ago that haymaking +machines, if indeed they existed at all, were not common; and so that +prettiest of country sights, a haymaking in the old style, was still to +be seen.</p> + +<p>A long irregular line of men and maidens, each armed with a fork or +rake, passed slowly across the sunny field, gathering the hay into +ridges, which looked not unlike the waves of the sea after a high wind, +when they come in on the shore in long undulating swells, one after +another. Then, the other side of the field being reached, the line +turned and passed back again, this time leaving the ridges broken up +into little haycocks. Ah, how pretty it was! The lumbering, rattling, +awkward machine will never look half so pretty; and as I am not a +farmer, bound to remember the reasons for preferring the machine +(reasons which I know are many and good), I may perhaps be allowed to +breathe a sigh for the beautiful past; for the fair sights and sweet +scents, the human interest, which made the beauty of many a haymaking +which I can remember; aye, and to pity those younger than myself, whose +only notion of haymaking will be connected with a great, hideous, +fussy, oily-smelling,—"useful" machine.</p> + +<p>Well, to return to the hayfield in question.</p> + +<p>It had been rather a wet summer so far. And although this was a +glorious day, it did not look very settled, and the weather-wise, +as represented by two aged men who had just walked down the lane to +encourage the farmer by promising him more bad weather, were not very +cheerful. And so the farmer, Mr. Heath, a stout, elderly man who was +leaning over the gate watching his haymakers, was naturally anxious to +get as many hands to work as he possibly could, and so save his hay +before the rain came on again. Very likely, if good farmer Heath is +still alive and still farming, he has a machine or two at work on such +occasions, and considers it a great improvement.</p> + +<p>He was just about to open the gate and go in to encourage his men and +maidens to work hard, and perhaps to aid them in their task, when a +voice behind him said—</p> + +<p>"Will you give me a day's work, sir?"</p> + +<p>The voice was rough and sharp, but the accent was not that of the part +of the country to which farmer Heath belonged. And so when he turned +to look at the speaker, he half expected to see a gentleman, who had +made the inquiry in fun. However, what he did see was a ragged, stoutly +built lad, with a tangle of curly fair hair, peeping out through the +slits in a tattered straw hat, and a pair of very roguish-looking blue +eyes, shining impertinently out of a good-looking, dirty face. The lad +wore a faded blue shirt, and a pair of trousers so much too long for +him that he had rolled them up half-way to his knee, and secured them +with a highly ornamental piece of knotted rope. A leather belt kept +his garments together, and on his arm he carried a coat which looked +as if he must have robbed some unprotected scarecrow. He also carried +a pair of strong, heavy shoes, comparatively new, and his well-formed +feet were naked and dusty. But farmer Heath knew that this lad did not +belong to that part of the country, and his appearance rather excited +his suspicions, though he could not have said exactly why. He stared +hard at the stranger, who awaited his leisure with great composure.</p> + +<p>"A day's work, did you say?" asked farmer Heath, slowly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I'm strong and active, and my work has been about horses, +so I should know something about hay, too. And if you give me work, I +think you'll be pleased with me."</p> + +<p>"You don't think small beer o' yerself, young man."</p> + +<p>"No more will you, sir, when you've giv' me a try and seen me at work," +remarked the youth, with great coolness.</p> + +<p>"What's your name, boy?"</p> + +<p>"Ben Fairfax, sir."</p> + +<p>"And where do you come from? Have you a good character from your last +place?"</p> + +<p>Ben Fairfax grinned broadly, showing a splendid set of white teeth. He +had laid down the heavy shoes, in order to carry on this conversation +more at his ease, but now he stooped and lifted them, saying as he did +so—</p> + +<p>"I've always heard tell that the folks hereabout were slow in their +ways, but I couldn't have believed they was quite as slow as this +here! Thirty acres of hay down—the sun shining splendid, and a nice +breeze blowing—not hands enough to get it saved before night and the +weather not to be depended on—and you stopping to ask questions of a +stout fellow like me, as only asks for a day's work! No, sir, I've no +character, good or bad. I never was in service at all. My father's a +shoemaker, and he made these shoes. I don't belong to these parts."</p> + +<p>"You're a free-spoken lad," said the farmer, severely.</p> + +<p>"They mostly are, where I come from. I'm taking a walking tour for the +good of my health, and I'd be glad of a job just now; I don't deny it. +But I suppose I should have to get the Queen and Prince Albert to write +a line for me, before 'you'd' believe that I wouldn't run off with a +hay-fork in one pocket, and a rake in t'other."</p> + +<p>Jokes were not plenty at the Lee farm, and this seemed to farmer Heath +a most excellent joke. He burst into a hearty fit of laughter.</p> + +<p>"You are a cheeky young monkey," he said; "and if I did right by you, +I'd give you a hiding; but all the same, what you say about the weather +is no more than the truth, and if you'll call it three-quarters of a +day, you may go into the hayfield, if you like."</p> + +<p>"All right, sir; I'm your man. I suppose my great-coat and Wellingtons +will be safe, if I leave them here?"</p> + +<p>"Your great-coat and Wellingtons," said the farmer, opening his eyes.</p> + +<p>"That's what 'I' calls 'em. You can give 'em any name you like—'twon't +alter 'em," replied the imperturbable Ben, as he rolled the thick shoes +up in the ragged jacket, and put them in a corner near the gate.</p> + +<p>He then followed his new employer, who was still grinning and chuckling +over that joke about the line from the Queen. He led the way to where +the haymakers were at work, and having provided Ben with a hay-fork, he +desired him to "get to work, and let us see what you are made of."</p> + +<p>Ben soon proved himself a strong, handy fellow. His sharp, saucy way of +speaking amused the farmer. And as the fine weather lasted for several +days (in spite of the cheerful prophets), he was allowed to remain +among the labourers during the day. What became of him at night nobody +inquired, but he had made himself very comfortable. He had contrived +to creep into the stable loft through a window, to which he climbed by +means of a great pear tree which was trained against the wall. And in +this loft he slept, and also smoked his short, well-blackened pipe, +regardless of the terrible risk he ran of setting fire to the hay.</p> + +<p>By this time you will have decided that Ben Fairfax was not an +exemplary member of society by any means; and truly, I fear, you are +quite right. Yet there were excuses for poor Ben; and moreover, he was +not "all" bad, as you will presently acknowledge.</p> + +<p>He was the son of a shoemaker in a small village in Kent, not very far +from London. He had learned a little shoemaking from his father, and +a great deal of other things, not quite so innocent. He was a sharp, +clever lad, and, for reasons of his own, his father was not desirous +of his presence at home, as he grew older and more observant. So he +got him a place as stable boy in the employment of Mr. B—, who had a +great training stable not far from F— (the village where the Fairfaxes +lived). It was not a place which any careful father would have chosen +for his boy, but Ben's father was very far from being careful. The +wages were good, and the boy could get home often; and if he did learn +to swear and gamble and drink, ay, and to be dishonest and untruthful, +it must be confessed that he could have learned it all quite as well at +home.</p> + +<p>At these stables, horses for racing and hunting were trained and kept +for sale, and Ben, being fearless and active, was often selected by his +master to ride such as required a light weight—a task in which the boy +naturally delighted, and took great pride. In fact, he was in a fair +way to get on in the world, when, unfortunately (or fortunately), he +lost his place through a piece of most reckless carelessness. He and +a younger lad, being entrusted with two valuable horses to exercise +on the heath, finding themselves out of sight, had a race for their +private diversion, and Ben's horse, a beautiful creature, worth many +hundred pounds, got a bad fall, and was so much injured that he had to +be destroyed. It then came out that Ben was in the habit of getting up +races whenever an opportunity occurred, and he was at once dismissed in +disgrace.</p> + +<p>When he went home, his father beat him severely, and that not for +having done wrong, but for being found out. Ben ran away from home the +next morning, and swore that he would never return, nor see his father +again. But there was a silken thread, one end of which was held by a +very weak pair of small hands in that deserted home, while the other +end was made fast somehow in his own wild heart; and this thread had +drawn him home many a time already, and might do so again, let him +wander as he would.</p> + +<p>He had gone to London, where he spent what remained to him of his wages +in amusing himself; and then, having by degrees parted with all his +good clothes, he suddenly determined to leave off his foolish courses, +and try his luck in the country. I would not be quite sure that the +silken cord had nothing to do with this resolution.</p> + +<p>It was pleasant weather, and there was no hardship for Ben in sleeping +in the open air. He had a few shillings, and eked them out by what +he called "picking up a meal" here and there, not always in the most +scrupulously honest manner. However, he enjoyed his "walking tour" very +much, and it ended in his falling in with farmer Heath.</p> + +<p>While the haymaking lasted, Ben worked at that. And before it was over, +the farmer had taken a fancy to the lad, who was so bright and quick, +and gave him many a hearty laugh. "London Ben," as they called him, +was, indeed, a general favourite, and the farmer promoted his stable +lad to a better place, and set Ben to take care of the horses. This +suited Ben admirably, and old Dobbin, and Jack, and the rest of the +stud, soon looked so glossy and sleek, that their master hardly knew +them again.</p> + +<p>Ben thought he ought to be very happy now, and he almost made up his +mind to remain at the Lee farm "for good," and to forget the delights +of a wandering, idle life, which he had not led long enough to find +hard and full of privation at times. Moreover, he felt a little +grateful for the kindness of his master and mistress, and meant to +behave well, and to serve them faithfully.</p> + +<p>These were good resolutions, but, alas! as the fruit ripened in the +garden behind the stables, the temptation was too great for poor Ben. +Many a night did he desert his lair in the fragrant hay, and visit +that garden, gathering his hat and pockets full of strawberries, +gooseberries, or cherries. Mrs. Heath, poor woman, was "terrible put +about," to use her own phrase, at these nightly raids upon her fruit, +but Ben managed so cleverly that he never was suspected. Indeed, he was +supposed to sleep at a village a mile or so distant, as he had not been +able to get a bed nearer to the farm, and there was no room for him in +the house.</p> + +<p>Every evening when work was over, he took care to be seen setting off +down the lane, and across a couple of fields, by a path which led +through a strip of plantation, and then across other fields, to the +village in question. But he never went beyond the plantation, except +when he needed a new store of tobacco; on other evenings he remained in +the little wood, watching the birds and beasts which lived there—an old +and favourite amusement of his. Then, as soon as he thought he could do +so unperceived, he crept back, and climbed up into the hayloft. As it +was now his duty to get down the hay for the horses out of this loft, +no one else ever came there, so the piles of gooseberry skins in one +corner did not betray him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Heath tied up the big dog, Tearem, in the garden. But Ben had made +friends with Tearem; and whoever he might tear, he never tore Ben, +but fawned on him lovingly. No doubt he would have been found out in +time, and probably been thrashed as well as dismissed by the indignant +farmer, but, as it happened, he left to please himself, though not +exactly pleased to do so at the moment.</p> + +<p>It was all because of that tiresome little silken string, which kept +tugging at his heart occasionally. He refused to think of it for a +time, and laughed and joked with the other lads about the place, but it +really troubled him for all that, and at last it gave one such terrible +pull, that he gave up and made up his mind that he must go home, and +"see what end of little Fan."</p> + +<p>It was partly his mistress's doing, though nothing could be further +from her intention. One day in August she asked her husband to leave +Ben with her, to help in the churning, which she said was too much for +her and her pretty daughter Alice; and Molly, their one servant, was +gone home for a holiday.</p> + +<p>So Ben remained with his mistress, and learned how to churn, and did +churn manfully; and the butter having "come," he helped to dash in a +little water, to make it "go together," as Mrs. Heath called it. And +then the butter was taken out of the churn, and Ben stood by, highly +interested in the whole process, and saw it thumped, and washed, and +thumped again, to free it from drops of buttermilk; after which it was +salted, and made into golden bars, each weighing one pound, and packed +into a basket with green leaves and damp snowy cloths, ready to be +carried off to market the next day. And while this was being done, the +following conversation took place.</p> + +<p>"Well, Ben Fairfax, you 'are' a handy lad! I must say that for you. +You must have been well used to help your mother. You're not like most +lads—all thumbs and no fingers."</p> + +<p>"Never helped my mother in my life, ma'am. It's native genius—that's +where 'tis, as my old master said when I took to riding so easy."</p> + +<p>"Your old master!" said Mrs. Heath, surprised, for she fancied she had +been told that he had never been in service before.</p> + +<p>Ben perceived his slip, and said carelessly—</p> + +<p>"I called him so, but it was only an odd job I ever got from him."</p> + +<p>"You have a mother, haven't you, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"A sort o' mother; and not a nice sort neither," said Ben, with a shake +of his curly pate. "Do you see this dint in my nob, ma'am? That's her +handiwork. She did that with a saucepan lid when I was only a small +chap."</p> + +<p>"Laws, child! She might ha' killed you, strikin' you on the head like +that."</p> + +<p>"And if the coroner wouldn't object, ma'am, 'she' wouldn't; nor my +father either."</p> + +<p>"What is your father's business, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"He's a shoemaker, ma'am. He made these shoes on my feet." Ben often +said this, but he did not add, as he might have done, that the shoes +had not been intended for him, but that he had helped himself to them +as he left the house the morning he ran away. "And he trains dogs and +ferrets, and sells rats, and—"</p> + +<p>"Rats!" screamed Mrs. Heath. "And for mussy's sake, Ben Fairfax, who +wants to buy such vermin as rats?"</p> + +<p>"Gents buys 'em for dogs to kill, ma'am. They get up matches, with +bets, so much on each dog, to see which will kill most rats in the time +named. And then they buy the rats, so much a dozen."</p> + +<p>Ben had a very strong suspicion that his father had other means of +"turning an honest penny," to use Mr. Fairfax's favourite expression, +but he said nothing about that. Mrs. Heath, you see, being a woman of +small experience, might not have thought the penny an honest one.</p> + +<p>"And do you mean to say that any one can make a livelihood out of the +like of that?" inquired Mrs. Heath.</p> + +<p>"Father does—along with shoemaking in a small way. A very good +livelihood too. They always seem to get along pretty comfortable, as +far as eating and drinking goes."</p> + +<p>"But, Ben," said Alice Heath, looking up from her tub of butter, +"if you had a comfortable home and plenty of food, why did you come +tramping through the country for work? And so shabby as you were, too, +till mother gave you Ned's old clothes."</p> + +<p>"I didn't live at home; couldn't stand the way they licked me."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you deserved it," said Alice, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I did, sometimes, but I didn't like it any the better for that. +So I—ran away at last."</p> + +<p>"And are there no more in family, Ben? Have you any brothers and +sisters?"</p> + +<p>"One brother, a baby, and the ugliest thing you ever saw in your life, +ma'am; and such a one to squall. And one sister, little Fan."</p> + +<p>"How old is she?"</p> + +<p>"Well, she must be eight or nine, but she's very small for that. She +can't be so old, surely; and yet—yes, she must be. Poor little Fan!"</p> + +<p>"Is she pretty, Ben?" asked Alice.</p> + +<p>"Well—no, miss; I don't think you'd say so. But—she's better nor that. +She's the lovingest, tenderest-hearted little thing—"</p> + +<p>He broke off abruptly and remained silent for some time. At last he +said half angrily—</p> + +<p>"Why did you make me talk of Fan? I didn't want to talk of her."</p> + +<p>"Well, but what harm, lad?"</p> + +<p>"If harm comes of it, 'twasn't of my seeking, any how. There's the +master now with Dobbin and Jack, mud up to their blessed noses! Where +on earth have they been? I'd better go and see after them, ma'am, if +you don't want me any more."</p> + +<p>And he ran out of the cool, dark dairy in a great hurry. But the +thought of little Fan, his only sister, the only being in the world who +loved him, or whom he loved, was not thus to be got rid of. Once fairly +roused, it refused to be left behind in the dark dairy. By hard work, +rough play, smoking many pipes, and sleeping sound after his midnight +diversions in the fruit garden, Ben had almost succeeded in stifling +the thought of Fan until now. Not quite, however; and now this talk +about her had given his memory a jog, and oh, how that string began to +pull at his heart!</p> + +<p>Little Fan, gentle, timid, good little Fan, left to bear all unaided +the blows and bad words of an unkind mother, and the neglect of a +worthless father; to carry the ugly baby until she was ready to drop, +and then punished when it squalled, which it did frequently; left to +have her food seasoned with unkind words and scoffs at her frightened +face and want of strength; left, in fact, to battle with her wretched +life without the occasional visits of her only friend and protector, +"our Ben," as she fondly called him—visits which had long been the one +happiness of her life. He could not get Fan out of his head.</p> + +<p>He resisted long. For nearly a week, he fought against his longing, and +he called innocent Mrs. Heath every bad name he could think of, and I +can assure you they were not few; he raged at himself for his folly; +he thought of the oath he had taken never to go back; he asked himself +what good he expected to do to Fan or anyone else. But it was all in +vain. Fan's pale little face, looking even sadder and more forlorn than +when he last saw it, was ever before him. He seemed to see it change, +and become full of the brightness of joy, and he heard her voice +saying,—</p> + +<p>"Why, it's our Ben," as he had often heard it in reality.</p> + +<p>Finally, one night he jumped up from his comfortable bed in the hay +with a shout. "I must go, I suppose. Bother the woman! Why must she go +and talk of Fan? It's not a bit of real good to her; and yet I must go +and see after her, and let her know I'm all right. She do love me so, +poor little Fan! And she must think 'twas hard of me to go away and +never look after her, when I know I'm the only comfort she has in the +world."</p> + +<p>He pulled on his clothes, not very handsome ones, unless by comparison +with those he had been wearing when he first came to the farm. Having +dressed himself and made up all his possessions in a bundle, he climbed +down by the pear tree, and looked about to ascertain what hour of the +night, or rather morning, it was. His mind being now made up to go +home, he determined to be off without giving notice to any one, partly +for the fun of the thing, but partly also for the following reasons. +He had been paid his week's wages the day before, seven shillings; and +of these he owed two to another lad about the place, whom he had been +teaching to play at pitch and toss for halfpence. And he also owed +a few shillings to the woman of the little shop in the village, for +tobacco. Moreover, Tom Digges, his comrade, not having been present +when the master paid the wages, Ben had offered to take his for him, +and to give them to him the next day, which he doubtless would have +done, as he had several times done it already, but for this sudden +determination to go away. Tom's wages were higher than his, because Tom +went home for his meals, and Ben lived at the farm.</p> + +<p>Seven shillings was very little to begin the world on, and so Mr. Ben +marched off with poor Tom's ten shillings also, without, I am sorry +to say, the least compunction. Also, as he crept along the line of +farm buildings, which ended in a large drying green, he saw something +dangling on a clothes' line; and on drawing nearer, he perceived +that it was a blue cotton frock, belonging to Mrs. Heath's little +grandchild, Etty Spence, who was staying at the farm to recover from +whooping cough. The frock had either been overlooked the night before, +or (which was more likely) was believed to be quite safe in so honest a +neighbourhood. It was just the right size for Fan; for though she was +much older than Etty, she was so very small for her age; and it was so +pretty and neatly made. Fan had never had such a frock in her life, and +how kind she would think him for bringing her one; and oh, how Mrs. +Heath would squall and search about for it when she missed it. So, +with a chuckle, Ben twitched the frock down from the line, and it was +quickly stowed away in his bundle, which contained some shirts, socks, +etc., all presents from kind, unsuspicious Mrs. Heath.</p> + +<p>Being now fairly off, Ben's spirits rose with every step he took, and +he ran lightly down the lane and past the gate where he first met +farmer Heath, without giving himself time to think; and having now +reached the high road, quite out of hearing even if any one at the farm +was awake, he began to whistle a tune—very sweetly, too, for he had a +quick ear for music.</p> + +<p>Now Ben Fairfax was a clever lad, as I daresay you have discovered +by this time; and yet, setting aside all ideas of right and wrong, +what a stupid thing he was doing! Here, for the first time in his +life, he had an opportunity of gaining really good and respectable +friends (for I cannot say that his first patrons had been either the +one or the other), and, by his bright ways and quick intelligence, +he had made them all like him. Had he gone to farmer Heath and told +him that he must go home and see after his little sister, the farmer +might have grumbled a little (farmers generally do grumble), but he +would certainly have let him go, and promised to take him back when he +returned.</p> + +<p>But instead of this he went off, leaving the proofs of his evil doings +to be seen by all at the farm, and carrying off things to which he had +no right, so that, instead of friendly feelings, every one would be +filled with anger and disgust. But, clever as he was, Ben never thought +of this; never reflected that good friends are not always to be picked +up; nor remembered that he might chance to meet some of these people +again, when their good word might be of consequence, and their bad word +fatal to him.</p> + +<p>In fact, the idea of meeting any of them again never entered his head; +here were they in Derbyshire, while he was going to London, on his way +to his old home, and he was too young to know how small the world is +after all, and how certain we are to meet again with people we have +known. So he departed gaily—it would undoubtedly sound better if I +could describe him as depressed by a sense of wrong doing, but truth +compels me to state that he felt very jolly, something like a young +horse which has slipped its head out of the halter and gone off for a +frisk. Life at the Lee farm was certainly dull and monotonous—the old +employment was far pleasanter, and perhaps Mr. — would have forgiven +him by this time, and would take him back. Now that the plunge was +made, Ben wondered how he had borne the quiet life so long.</p> + +<p>"What would Sam Hadley" (the other party in the fatal race), "say, +if he knew that I'd gone in for a respectable life without a bit of +fun from week's end to week's end? He 'd never believe it, that's one +thing."</p> + +<p>And Ben laughed aloud at the notion of Sam's face if asked to believe +this tale; thereby startling a most respectable elderly blackbird who +was half asleep in the hedge by the road's side, so that he fled with a +long wild cry, and startled Ben in his turn.</p> + +<p>It seems, does it not, as if the silken string had pulled Ben out of +safety and into danger this time. Yet, was it really so? Was Ben really +safe at the Lee farm, deceiving his kind employers, stealing their +fruit, and teaching their ploughboy to play pitch and toss all Sunday? +The answer must depend upon our idea as to what Ben wanted to be saved +from.</p> + +<p>Before even the early hour at which Mrs. Heath's cheery call roused her +household to their daily tasks, Ben Fairfax was several miles on his +way to London. He had a long tramp before him, for he did not wish to +diminish his small store by paying railway fares, preferring to keep it +to begin the world upon.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Heath called her family at her usual time—half-past five, and at +half-past six they were all seated at breakfast in the clean and cosy +kitchen. All, that is, except "London Ben;" where was he? He had not +come, as he generally did, to tie up the wicked old cow for Alice to +milk her, nor had he run in to aid red-armed Molly to draw water for +the day's washing, nor had he carried off little Etty to see Dobbin and +Jack munch their oats. All these things Ben was wont to do, for he was +thoroughly good-natured and pleasant in his ways. But to-day he had +done none of them.</p> + +<p>And after breakfast a search was set on foot, and in process of time +all Ben's delinquencies came to light. It was first discovered that +he had been in the habit of sleeping in the hayloft, and the strong +smell of tobacco betrayed the fact that he had also been in the habit +of smoking there. Secondly, the gooseberry skins and strawberry stalks +flung into a corner accounted for the nightly robbery of the garden.</p> + +<p>Thirdly, poor Tom's lamentations made every one aware that Ben had gone +off with his week's wages, and also with "Two shillin' wich he owed +I, he did!" But when Tom, in his indignation, made known how the said +two shillings had been lost and won, farmer Heath registered a solemn +vow to "trounce Ben Fairfax well" if he ever had the opportunity, for +introducing a taste for gambling among his farm boys.</p> + +<p>Finally, the blue calico frock was missed, and the impression on Mrs. +Heath's mind was that Ben had taken it. But, to do her justice, she +grieved more over the ingratitude and dishonesty of the lad she had +liked so much, than over the loss of the blue frock, or even over the +fruit.</p> + +<p>"He'll come to a bad end, will Ben Fairfax," she said, to her pretty +daughter Alice. "He's none of your dull fellows, to be content wi' such +small pickins' as he's made here. He's too clever by half, poor boy! +And you mark my words, Alice Heath, he'll come to the gallows yet, or +get sent to Botany Bay at the very least."</p> + +<p>By this speech you may judge how far behind the times Mrs. Heath was; +for it is many a long day since thieves were sent to Botany Bay, and +as to hanging, we all know that it is really very difficult to get +hanged nowadays, even for murder. And poor Ben with all his faults, +was not likely to murder any one, for he was not a cruel boy. He was +kind to those who were weaker than himself, and animals were safe with +him, even from teasing. Tearem quite missed him, and stupid old Dobbin +kicked at the lad who succeeded him in his stable duties, while as +for the wicked brindled cow, she became (Mrs. Heath declared) "that +rampagious that no one but a fairy could milk her at all," so she had +to be sold at the next fair.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image007" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image007.jpg" alt="image007"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image008" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image008.jpg" alt="image008"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>HOW BEN CARRIED OFF HIS SISTER.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>BEN FAIRFAX did not hurry himself on his journey. The weather was fine, +the nights warm, and the country beautiful; and to this beauty poor +reckless Ben was by no means insensible. He was a keenly observant lad, +too, and would stand absorbed for half an hour, watching a flock of +rooks following the plough, and swooping down into the freshly turned +furrow, cawing with such an intelligent sound that it was easy to fancy +that they were speaking.</p> + +<p>To many people that long march would have been extremely dull, and +their only thought to get over it as quickly as possible; it was the +old story of "Eyes and no eyes," in fact. Nothing escaped Ben's bright, +observant eyes, no sound eluded his quick ear, and nothing he saw or +heard was forgotten. He knew all about the rooks, for instance—knew +that they never fail to post sentinels who watch while the flock +feeds, knew that they hold meetings occasionally, apparently to talk +over their affairs. He had even witnessed a trial by jury among them, +followed by instant execution of the well-watched and terrified +criminal, who was fallen upon and pecked to pieces in half a minute, +without the least mercy, and with a horrible noise.</p> + +<p>Ben had a great respect for the rooks, but they were not the only birds +he knew something of. He could tell at a glance what kind of bird had +built a new-found nest—how many eggs the little hen would probably +lay, and how long she would sit there, patiently warming her children +into life, and looking at him when he peeped at her, with bright, +half-defiant, half-frightened eyes. Many a young thrush or blackbird +had he put back into the nest when the ugly awkward creature had +tumbled out, to the great distress of its affectionate parents.</p> + +<p>Nor was he without four-footed friends. In that strip of plantation +of which I have spoken, he had made acquaintance with divers funny, +fluffy little rabbits, and had spent many a pleasant evening hour +watching them washing their faces, and whisking their fat persons round +in that sudden and slightly unaccountable fashion to which rabbits +are addicted. Hares, too—he had watched them at their weird, graceful +play—half a dozen together, scampering, turning, sitting bolt upright +in the most gravely quizzical fashion, or jumping over each other, like +boys playing leap-frog, until, in an unlucky moment, something betrayed +his presence—a misfortune which the least movement occasioned—when +back went all the long, soft ears, and away sped the hares in every +direction, almost too swiftly for his eyes to trace their flight.</p> + +<p>It was in that plantation, too, that he met with an adventure which +pleased him very much—more than any one not gifted with a love of +nature can well imagine. One evening he had been standing very quietly +and silently for a considerable time just behind a gap in the hedge +which bounded the plantation. He was listening to the evening song of +the thrush, and watching a few rabbits frisking about, when the rabbits +suddenly fled to their holes with great precipitation; nor did they sit +down just inside the mouth of their dwellings, and look-out cunningly +as was their usual practice, but disappeared utterly.</p> + +<p>Ben stood still, wondering what the little things had seen, heard, or +suspected, when behold! In the gap, walking softly and looking very +tired, appeared no less a person than Mr. Reynard, the fox himself. I +do not know what this elderly gentleman had been about. It was not the +hunting season, but perhaps Tearem and a few friends had been having a +little hunt for their own diversion, or perhaps food was hard to get, +or perhaps he had been to visit a friend at a distance. But at all +events, there he was, footsore, spent, and weary, and thinking only of +getting home as fast as he could; though I don't mean to say that he +could not have delayed a moment to pick up a fat rabbit, though his +drooping brush showed that he was very tired.</p> + +<p>Ben held his breath to have a good look; never had he met a fox face +to face before. The weary creature raised his head and saw him. Too +much startled to run, he simply stood and stared as hard as Ben stared +at him. This lasted while you might have counted ten; then Reynard, +without removing his gaze, quietly, silently, hardly stirring the +daisies on which he set down his feet, glided through the gap, and—was +gone; and Ben never got a sight of him again.</p> + +<p>To one capable of deriving pleasure from such things as these, it was +delightful to linger on this journey, during which he could indulge his +taste to the uttermost. Yet still Ben kept going on; sometimes, indeed, +feeling the greatest reluctance to face his old acquaintances again, +but always, willing or unwilling, going to "see after little Fan."</p> + +<p>So he reached London at last, quite sorry that his journey was so +nearly over. From London he went by rail to F—, his native village.</p> + +<p>Leaving the railway station, which was a little way out of the village, +Ben walked briskly along the well-known road, which soon was merged +in the small and mean-looking street of the village. Just outside +the village, he saw some one coming towards him, and recognized his +comrade, Sam Hadley, the companion with whom he had ridden that unlucky +race.</p> + +<p>"Well," thought Ben, "I fancied the railway folk looked at me queerly, +but Sam can't look down upon me for getting dismissed, for he's not +a bit better himself—not that he looks as if he 'd been dismissed, +somehow. Hulloh, Sam!" he continued aloud, "here you are; how goes the +world with you, Sam? Has Mr. — taken you on again? Somehow you look as +if he had."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has," Sam replied, curtly. He did not seem delighted to see +his old friend by any means. "And where have you been, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've been taking a walking tour for the good of my health," said +Ben, carelessly. "Well, I wonder at Mr. —. When he wouldn't take me +back, I wonder he took you; for, no offence to you, Sam, I'm a better +groom than you."</p> + +<p>"But you see, I belong to respectable people," said Sam, primly.</p> + +<p>"You be civil, young fellow, or maybe you'll find that I have not +forgotten how to give you a licking. I wonder would the master take me +back?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know, Ben. You see, your horse was killed, and mine was +none the worse after a day or two; and the other fellows told him 'twas +you led me into it. And now there's this about your father."</p> + +<p>Sam spoke in a much milder voice since that remark about the "licking," +and seemed to choose his words carefully.</p> + +<p>"What about my father?" asked Ben.</p> + +<p>"Why, bless me, Ben! Han't you heard on it? Your father's in trouble, +Ben. They've suspected this long time that he was mixed up with the +poachers on Lord —'s place, but some weeks ago he was ketched. 'Twas +in the middle of the night, he and Simon Pettitt and Long Joe, the man +that we knew up at the stables, was ketched with a kivered cart full of +game, going up to London; and they're all in jail, committed for trial. +And what's more, Ben," continued Sam, looking round nervously, and +drawing a little nearer to his companion, "I believe the police are on +the look-out for you, thinking as you may know summat of it."</p> + +<p>"Well, they're wrong then. I never knew anything about such doings."</p> + +<p>This was true enough; for though Ben had long felt convinced that +his father had some means of making money of which he said nothing, +care had been taken that he should know nothing positively. Fairfax +had often hinted that some day he would admit his son to a valuable +secret, but that he was too idle, and too fond of talking as yet, to be +depended on.</p> + +<p>"Tell that to the marines, Ben," remarked Sam, jocosely. "A sharp chap +like you not know what his own father was up to!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I didn't, I tell you. But if they nabbed him in the act, with +the cart and all, what do they want of me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you see, your father swears he knew nothing of what was in the +cart, and was only taking a walk in consequence of having had words +with his missus—and as he surely had words, and more than words, with +her that night, poor woman—and Simon and Joe won't split on him; you +see, they want more evidence badly."</p> + +<p>"They'll get none from me, anyhow. Let them ask Mrs. Fairfax; if +there's any mischief going, she's sure to have a hand in it."</p> + +<p>"Why, Ben! Surely you know—Laws, Ben, here's a policeman. You'd best be +getting on."</p> + +<p>And Sam hurried away, not anxious to be seen in conversation with poor +Ben, under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>Ben jumped over the hedge at the side of the road, ran along the +field he had thus entered, and made his way to the cottage where his +father lived by various short cuts best known to himself. As he ran, +he thought to himself that it would never do for him to be taken by +the police, for many reasons. First, how account for his long absence, +without running the risk of being brought to book for his dishonesty +at the Lee farm? And secondly, if Mrs. Fairfax also was in jail (as +he fancied Sam had been about to tell him), what would become of poor +little Fan?</p> + +<p>At last he stood in the street, close to his father's house. The +shutters were closed, but the door was a little open; and, in spite of +many fears that a policeman might lurk inside, Ben ran quickly past the +door of the next house, not caring to ask news even of good-natured +Mrs. Simmonds, and entered the kitchen of his old home.</p> + +<p>There was no one there, no fire on the hearth, and the room was +partially darkened. Ben stood, and looked round, and listened. The +furniture was all in its place, but it was dusty and unused; the ugly +baby's cradle lay upset in a corner. There was an inner room which +looked to the back of the house; the door was shut, but Ben presently +fancied that he heard some one crying softly in the room. He opened the +door and looked in. There were the beds, just as usual, but at first he +thought there was no one there. Then he heard that feeble moan again, +and surely the voice was little Fan's.</p> + +<p>"Fan!" he cried, softly. "Little Fan—are you here?"</p> + +<p>Something in one of the beds moved, and then a white, white face +appeared, with great, big, scared-looking eyes, and short hair sticking +out straight from the poor head, which "wobbled from side to side," +as Ben afterwards described it, as if it were much too heavy for the +feeble neck. But when the eyes lighted upon him, such a flash of +gladness brightened them; such a relieved, comforted smile parted the +pale lips, that the face was transformed even before the ghost of Fan's +voice murmured, hoarsely—</p> + +<p>"Why, it's our Ben! And so I'm safe."</p> + +<p>Ben went over to her. Her poor, thin arms—Fan had never been what you +could call fat, but now a skeleton was what she most resembled—were +soon clasped round his neck, and her cold lips pressed to his. And +he felt, somehow, so big and strong and rough, in contrast with her +feebleness, that he was almost ashamed of himself.</p> + +<p>"You've been ill, Fan darling, and I not here to nurse you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, so ill, Ben dear! We've all been ill, and—oh, Ben, go away—I +oughtn't for to touch you. The doctor says it's 'fectious, and I've had +it very bad. Oh, go away, Ben! And when I'm well (if I ever get well), +come and see me in the workhouse."</p> + +<p>"In the workhouse! You shan't go to the workhouse, Fan. I'm sure you +don't want to go?"</p> + +<p>"Want to go! Why, Ben, I'm near dead with fretting! But they said I +must go, for that I'd starve here by myself. But when I thought they'd +take me to the house, and keep me locked up, so as I'd never see you +again, Ben, I thought I'd die on the spot. And I didn't want to die +before I'd said good-bye to you, Ben. But now I've seen you—and you'll +know where I am—and oh, Ben! Do go away, dear!"</p> + +<p>"Not a step, Fan. Fever or no fever, I don't leave you. But where's all +the others, Fan?"</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you know? Poor father's took away to prison, and mother—Oh, +Ben, I thought you'd have heard that! She's dead. She died of this +fever, and the baby, too—poor little Tommy!"</p> + +<p>Ben was shocked—too much shocked even to think that the baby, at least, +was a good riddance.</p> + +<p>"Dead!" he repeated. "Why, Fan, how could I know it? It's an awful +thing—and I've been away in the country, miles and miles away. I only +came back this very day, to see after you."</p> + +<p>"To see after me," the child said with a happy smile. "You're always +so good to me, Ben. And maybe, if you really won't go away, maybe they +won't take me to the poorhouse. You'll see after me till I die or get +better. The doctor says I'm over the fever, but that very like I may +die of the weakness. But now that you are here, I don't think I shall."</p> + +<p>"To be sure you won't, child. I'll take care of you, and no one shall +take you from me. Who was going to take you, dear?"</p> + +<p>"The police. You know they took father, and Simon Pettitt, and Joe +Harris, and they came next day for mother, but she was ill, and then it +turned into the fever (for at first, Ben, it was only a thump father +gave her), and they said, after she died, that they'd take me to the +poorhouse as soon as I could be moved."</p> + +<p>"And who has taken care of you, Fan?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Simmonds. She's so kind to me! She comes in constant, though +Jack Simmonds had the fever, and little Billy's in it still. Every +one's been having it. Mrs. Simmonds never forgets me. She's like the +righteous, Ben, 'you' know—'I was sick, and ye visited me.'"</p> + +<p>Suddenly the eager voice broke out with a cry—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ben Oh, Ben!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Fan dear?"</p> + +<p>"It's just the weakness. Oh, dear! I think, Ben—I'm going—this time. I +ain't afraid. 'He' died—and I've seen you again—Ben, dear."</p> + +<p>And Fan closed her eyes and fainted dead away. Whereon Ben, big, +stout-hearted fellow as he was, lost his presence of mind so completely +that he raised a roar of mingled grief and fright, which soon brought a +very untidy but kind-looking young woman running in through the empty +kitchen with all speed.</p> + +<p>"'Sakes, Fan!" exclaimed the new comer, "How could you, that's weaker +than any new born baby, rise such a—Laws! It's Ben come back. And she's +fainted with joy! Don't be scared, Ben; she's been like this more than +once, and I'll bring her to in a moment. It was just too much for her, +seeing you. Your name is never off her tongue."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simmonds soon made good her words, and Fan opened her eyes again, +and smiled feebly when she saw her brother.</p> + +<p>"There, now she'll be all right again. And I've made a cup of tea and a +bit of toast for her, and now I'll run back to my own place for it, and +feed her. And don't you let her talk much, Ben, for indeed she's too +weak for it, and I can answer all your questions while she has her tea."</p> + +<p>And away she ran.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't have let you talk, you see," said Ben, "but I'm in such +a maze, Fan, that I don't know what I'm doing, nor where I am. Here's +Mrs. Simmonds again. Well now, Mrs. Simmonds, you're something like a +neighbour; and if ever I get the chance, I'll remember this cup of tea +to you."</p> + +<p>"'He' will, anyhow," Fan murmured, half to herself. "Even if 'twas only +a cup of cold water, instead of lovely tea. 'He' don't forget anything."</p> + +<p>"Ain't she a queer child?" said Mrs. Simmonds confidentially, to Ben.</p> + +<p>"No, I ain't a queer child," said Fan, half fretfully. "There's nothing +queer about it. And I'm glad He never forgets," they heard her mutter +sleepily, "for most likely I shall never be able to do anything for +her."</p> + +<p>"Who is it she's talking of?" said the woman in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Blest if I know," Ben answered carelessly. This was not strictly true, +for it was not the first time he had heard Fan talk thus.</p> + +<p>"The little creature! She's dropping off into a doze. So much the +better, poor lamb! I'll draw the blanket over her—there. She's stronger +to-day than I've seen her yet, but I'm afraid it will go hard with her +when they take her away."</p> + +<p>"But they need not take her now, Mrs. Simmonds. Look here, ma'am; +you've been so kind to her that I'm sure you'd take a little trouble +for her sake. I'll tell you fair and true how the matter stands. I +could care for Fan right well, for I'm as good a shoemaker as father, +and a good hand about horses too; and I'd work hard and keep her better +and make her happier than she ever was in her life, if I could only see +my way out of this hobble. They would never take her to the house if +they knew all this, but there, you see, I can't stay and tell them so. +It seems they think I could give evidence against father—and besides, +I've reasons of my own for not wanting to have words with them."</p> + +<p>"And what do you think I could do, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"If you'd tell them that you'll keep Fan, and just take her home with +you until I can venture back here. I'll work hard, ma'am, and pay you +for her keep."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure she's sound asleep, Ben? Ah yes, she is, poor little +thing! But watch that she does not wake up and hear us, for she only +dozes for a minute or so, mostly. And I've kept the truth from hers +because she's such a soft, tender, little thing, that I'm afraid it +would really harm her to know. I don't know that it is to the workhouse +they'll take her, Ben, though I've told her so. You see, they know that +she can prove that those two men have been in the habit of coming here +and bringing game with them, and packing it here. They say she's seen +it often, but if she did, not a word did she ever say about it; unless, +mayhap, she told you," she added inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"She never did. I didn't know anything, whatever I may have suspected. +Fan's a strange child! Little as she owes to father or Mrs. Fairfax in +the way of kindness, she 'd obey them as strict as strict. If they said +'Don't tell,' tell she never would."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid they'll never believe that you didn't know about it, Ben. +And they are to come for Fan to-night."</p> + +<p>"To-night! Well, what am I to do?" cried poor Ben, distractedly.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know. They left her in my care, because the poor +thing fainted when they tried to move her, but they said they'd bring +a stretcher to-night when it is dark, and take her away. They want to +keep her under their own eyes, until she's given evidence against her +father. It is a hard-like thing, too; to make an innocent child like +that help to hang her own father; ain't it, now?"</p> + +<p>Ben was about to explain to Mrs. Simmonds that to the best of his +belief, poaching is not a capital offence, but he had only time to say, +"It won't be so bad—" when a scream from poor Fan made them turn to +look at her.</p> + +<p>There she was, sitting up in the bed, holding out her poor, thin arms +to Ben, and crying wildly—</p> + +<p>"Oh, take me away, Ben! Hide me! Don't let the police get me. Oh, I +didn't think people could be so cruel! I didn't know 'twas wrong to +catch birds and hares. And to think that they'd get me to tell about +it, and then hang father for doing it. And I did see them, Ben. I +couldn't say I didn't. And oh, poor father! What would become of him if +they hanged him?"</p> + +<p>In spite of the poor child's terror and agony, Ben laughed aloud at +this question. It seemed to him very easy to imagine what would become +of his father in that case.</p> + +<p>"They won't hang him, Fan, never you fear. It's not a hanging matter."</p> + +<p>"It is, though," said Mrs. Simmonds, emphatically. "My husband's +mother's grandfather was hung for poaching. There now, that's as true +as that you're standing there. Many a time I've heard her tell the +story, as her father told it to her, and he could remember being taken +to the jail to bid him good-bye."</p> + +<p>This terrible piece of family history somewhat alarmed even Ben; and as +to Fan, she looked quite wild, and cried out again—</p> + +<p>"Oh, what will become of poor father if they hang him?"</p> + +<p>"Why, child, if they hang him, he'll be dead; and that's all about it."</p> + +<p>"And afterwards?" cried Fan, wringing her hands like one distracted. +"Oh, Ben, where would he go? Poor father, you know he is not—Oh, Ben, +you were always good to me. Help me to put on my clothes, and take me +away and hide me; for if they make me tell about father, I don't think +I could live any more. Dear, dear, good Bennie, do hide me from them."</p> + +<p>"I declare, hang or no hang, Fan's about right," said Mrs. Simmonds. +"If you two were safe out of the way, Ben, they would, maybe, never be +able to prove anything against your father. And my advice to you is to +wrap her up well and carry her off as soon as it gets a little darker, +but don't wait too long, or the police may come before you're off. And +I'm not to know a word of it, mind you! My man would be very angry with +me. I'll be struck all of a heap when I miss Fan, and I know nothing +of her since I gave her some tea, and saw her fall asleep after taking +it. I'll go home and begin my mangling; it's little I'll hear of your +doings with the old mangle screeching and groaning in my ears, even if +you rise a howl like the one that brought me in."</p> + +<p>"Right you are, Mrs. Simmonds. Only I don't know where to take her. To +London, I suppose. No one could track us there."</p> + +<p>"Only mind the railway people don't remark you."</p> + +<p>"I won't get in here; I'll carry her to —" (another station, a little +further from London). "But with the child to carry about, I really +don't know where to go. It won't be easy to find a lodging."</p> + +<p>"I can help you in that," Mrs. Simmonds replied. "I'll give you the +address of an old woman who lived over in the part of the country I +come from myself. And when I was a girl looking for a situation, I used +to stay with her. She's honest, but she's very cross. And don't you say +anything about the fever, or she'll be afraid to take you in."</p> + +<p>"All right. You get me the address. I'll never forget your kindness, +Mrs. Simmonds, you see if I do."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Simmonds ran off to her own cottage, and soon returned with a +somewhat dirty scrap of paper in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Here it is, Ben; and if you take my advice, you'd call yourself by +some other name for a time. Take care of the little one—and now I'm +off, and know no more about you."</p> + +<p>She vanished again, and was soon heard next door, turning her heavy old +mangle with tremendous energy.</p> + +<p>Poor Fan had scarcely heard all this talk, which was well for her peace +of mind, as the duplicity would have shocked her greatly. Terror and +weakness, however, had rendered her quite passive.</p> + +<p>Ben dressed her as well as he could, and made up a bundle of clothes +for her, as much as he thought he could carry. Then he waited nervously +until it was tolerably dark, when he wrapped her closely in a big +brown shawl which had belonged to the poor dead woman, lifted her in +his arms, and carried her into the outer room. Here he set her down +on a chair while he peeped out, and looked up and down the street. No +policeman, nor, indeed, any other person, was to be seen, so he took +Fan up again and set off at a trot.</p> + +<p>The shock of the fresh air was too much for poor Fan, who at once +fainted away, but Ben did not find this out until he was nearly a mile +out of the village. Having seen her in that state before, he was not so +much frightened, and soon managed to get some water and bathe her hands +and face, having laid her down on the grass by the road's side.</p> + +<p>He then took her up and went on again. His first object was to reach +a small railway station, where he was not known. It was a fine night, +and he was strong, and Fan very light, so in due time they reached the +station, and took their places in a third-class carriage of the next +train for London.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image009" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image009.jpg" alt="image009"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>HE TOOK FAN UP AGAIN AND SET OFF AT A TROT.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Ben was very tired before he found the street and the house to which +Mrs. Simmonds had directed him, but he did find them at last. The old +woman had one single attic unoccupied, which Ben engaged for a week; +and very glad was he to lay his burthen down on the bed. Fan did not +seem the worse for her journey; and having been fed with some bread and +milk, she fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>Then he went downstairs and had a little conversation with his +landlady—a very cross-looking old lady she was, too. He informed her +that his sister had been "like that" for many months—a kind of decline, +the doctors called it; and he didn't think she 'd trouble him long. +Poor Ben! It was a pity that he should try to make himself appear worse +than he was, for really he was bad enough. But it was not true that Fan +was a burden of which he longed to be rid. On the contrary, her death +would have nearly broken his heart. Besides this tale concerning Fan, +he, having a fine turn for fiction, gave her a flowing account of his +reasons for coming to London, in which there was not one word of truth +from beginning to end.</p> + +<p>Ben was very anxious to find work by which he might provide for himself +and Fan. His small store of money was running out faster than was +pleasant, and something must be done to get more. He could not depend +on what he might "pick up," now that Fan was dependent on him, even if +he had not felt very sure that she would not altogether like his method +of "picking up" things. He made up his mind to remain where he was +until she was stronger, doing odd jobs (his landlady put him in the way +of several), and then, if nothing better had turned up, he would set +forth on another "walking tour," never doubting that in the country he +would always find employment.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image010" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image010.jpg" alt="image010"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image011" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image011.jpg" alt="image011"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>WANDERINGS.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>BEN'S plans for remaining in London were all brought to nothing by half +a dozen words from a policeman. And the best of the thing was, that the +policeman knew nothing of Ben and was by no means thinking of him when +he spoke. He was looking idly down into the area window of a house he +was passing, just as Ben came by on his way home after a good day's +work, unloading a waggon at a shop door. Something the man saw in the +kitchen he was peeping into, made him raise his head and exclaim aloud, +looking apparently at Ben, "I'm blessed if that ain't—"</p> + +<p>What, Ben did not want to hear, for, feeling certain that the next +words would be "Ben Fairfax, the poacher's son," he took to his heels +and ran.</p> + +<p>The policeman looked after him with a curious grin.</p> + +<p>"That fellow thought I knew him!" said he.</p> + +<p>Ben did not venture to go home for some hours, and he made up his mind +that, if possible, Fan and he must get away soon. He was very late, of +course, when he returned to his lodgings, and there a very unpleasant +surprise awaited him. When his usual hour for coming home passed, old +Mrs. Harris, with more good nature than her appearance promised, went +upstairs to see the sick child; and having asked Fan if she wanted +anything, and Fan having said "no thank you, ma'am," she remarked—</p> + +<p>"You're not hungry, eh? Some is, and some ain't. I've know 'd them +as was in a decline that you couldn't keep them in food. They 'd eat +all day, and all night too, if they could get it. And then I've known +others as was like you, child—didn't care if they never saw bit nor sup +at all. It's queer the differences there is in decline."</p> + +<p>"But I'm not in a decline, ma'am," said innocent Fan. "I had a fever +that lots of people had where we lived, and mother and baby died of it. +But I'm getting on nicely now, thank you, ma'am."</p> + +<p>Whereupon the old woman flew into such a passion that she very +nearly frightened Fan into a fit. She used very strong language, and +threatened to "throw her out into the street that moment!"</p> + +<p>Fan clasped her hands and said her prayers half aloud, in the extremity +of her terror. But Mrs. Harris did not touch her, and presently went +downstairs, grumbling and muttering. But she kept a bright look-out for +unlucky Ben. And he, running in, hungry, tired, and frightened, was +surprised and disgusted by a salute from a pail of dirty soap suds, +thrown over him by his hitherto obliging landlady.</p> + +<p>"Hulloh, missus what's this for?" cried he.</p> + +<p>"You young rogue! Coming here telling me a pack of lies. Decline, +indeed! 'I'll' decline you. Nice decline she has!"</p> + +<p>The old woman hissed out her words in a kind of half whisper, half cry; +she did not care to call the attention of her other lodgers to the +dispute, lest they should take fright, and leave her house.</p> + +<p>"If it wasn't that I pity that poor child upstairs, I'd have given you +a tidy warming, young man," she went on. "I'd have got them to help me +as would teach you to tell lies—" (Ben might have assured her that this +was quite unnecessary, but the impudence was washed out of him for the +moment)—"bringing the like of that into my house. But I won't hurt you, +for she has no one else to look to—only out you go. This moment, now. +Go upstairs and fetch the child and march out, or I'll raise the house +on you—I will! And just wait till I catch Nancy Simmonds—sending you +here."</p> + +<p>Ben was tired, hungry and somewhat frightened, not by any means as good +a match for his enemy as he would generally have been. He tried to +deprecate her wrath, but she wouldn't be deprecated. He tried to bully +her, but she had the best of him at that game. Lastly, he tried to coax +her into letting him stay in the house until morning, but she would not +hear of it.</p> + +<p>"But, ma'am, I really don't know where to take poor Fan. So late at +night, too!"</p> + +<p>"Just take her to wherever you brought her from, and don't go spreading +fever where people have enough to bear without it. But wherever you go, +get out of my house this moment, or I declare I'll call a policeman and +tell him the trick you've played me."</p> + +<p>This threat decided the matter; Ben flew upstairs in haste. The old +woman, whose bark was worse than her bite, cooled down a little when +she found that she had routed the enemy; and she even listened for his +step on the stairs, meaning to allow him to remain until morning. But +she never heard him go, and when at last she went up to have a further +parley with him, she found the room empty. In the hurry of departure +Ben had forgotten to pay his rent.</p> + +<p>Ben, flying upstairs with the soapy water dripping from his garments, +rushed into the miserable attic where he had left his sister, and found +the poor child in a terrible state, between terror of the old woman and +fright at his long absence. She had contrived to dress herself, though +still weak, and had her poor little hat ready in her hand as she lay +trembling and quaking on the bed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that you, Bennie, darling? Oh, Ben, what kept you? I've been +so frightened, dear. The woman called me such dreadful wicked names, +and said she 'd put me out of the house. I dressed myself for fear +she would really do it. But you're all wet, Ben. I feel water on your +jacket. Is it raining?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear, no; but that old beast threw a lot of dirty water over me. +How did she find out that it was fever you had, Fan?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I told her. She thought I was in a decline."</p> + +<p>"Well, you are a little donkey," Ben said, half laughing. "I ought to +have warned you to hold your tongue. Never mind, though; we must be +off out of this. But we must have gone soon at all events, for I met a +policeman to-day that seemed to know me—that's what kept me so late. I +would much rather have you in the country, too. See now, I'll wrap the +big shawl round you, and carry you as safe as anything."</p> + +<p>"And where are we going, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"Blessed if I know," answered Ben. "But she won't even let us stay +until morning! I say, Fan, is there any bread left? For I'm awful +hungry."</p> + +<p>Fan gave him a piece of bread, and he quickly devoured it, while she +fumbled about in the dark, getting their few possessions together.</p> + +<p>"There's some milk in the tin cup, Ben. I left some for you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, little one. And the cup's a handy one; I'll put it in the +bundle."</p> + +<p>"But it belongs to the old woman, Ben, dear," objected Fan.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she gave it to me for a keepsake," Ben answered, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Then she was not so very angry? I'm glad of that."</p> + +<p>"She was angry enough. Now, are you ready? Are you well covered up? You +carry the bundle, and I'll carry you: that's the way we'll divide the +work between us."</p> + +<p>Fan's soft little laugh at this joke, and her arms clinging round his +neck, made the big, rough boy feel inclined to cry, he did not in the +least know why.</p> + +<p>"Now, hold your tongue and don't let her hear us, or perhaps she'll +send another pail of water after us. I'll carry my shoes till we are +out of the house."</p> + +<p>So down he crept, silently, and they were soon in the street.</p> + +<p>"Nicely sold Mrs. Harris will feel when she goes up to drive us out," +chuckled Ben, as he pulled on his shoes, having set Fan down for that +purpose.</p> + +<p>"Look, Ben, I can walk quite well now."</p> + +<p>"Well done, Fan. You're a long sight better than when I saw you first. +Why, you couldn't keep your head from wobbling about that evening; and +here you're walking like a grenadier."</p> + +<p>But Fan would have made a poor grenadier, I am afraid; and very soon +Ben took her up again. Tired and anxious, he soon began to feel very +weary. Fan was considerably heavier than when he had carried her off +from F—. Besides, he had no object in view, and was beginning to wonder +what he had better do. In order to think this over more at his ease, +he looked out for a deep doorway, and into this shelter they both +crept, and made themselves as comfortable as they could. Fan was warm +and snug, wrapped in the woolly shawl, but Ben's damp clothes made him +very chilly, and in spite of the piece of bread, he was still hungry. +Perhaps these unpleasant sensations recalled the warmth and plenty of +good Mrs. Heath's house, for he sighed and said—</p> + +<p>"If I could only go back to the Lee farm, what a good thing it would +be."</p> + +<p>"That's where you were working, and where you saw the birds and +rabbits? Oh, Bennie dear, let's go there. I'm sure I could walk most of +the way now; and it must be such a nice place."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't go there, Fan; more's the pity."</p> + +<p>"Why not? They were good to you, weren't they?"</p> + +<p>"They were," said Ben, slowly. "But I made a mistake or two the night I +came away. I can't go back, so say no more about it. I was a fool for +my pains."</p> + +<p>Ben's will was law to his little sister, so she asked no questions.</p> + +<p>"But, Ben," she said after a time, "isn't there other places out in the +country besides F— and the Lee farm? If we went quite a different way, +the police would maybe never find us at all. I think it would be a real +good thing if we went away into quite a strange, new place."</p> + +<p>"I think so, too. But the question is, how to you get there; for as to +your walking, my dear, you wouldn't do many miles in the day just yet. +Once we were in the country, we might get on, because we needn't hurry. +We could rest when we liked."</p> + +<p>"Can't we go in the railway, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; but, you see, it costs a lot of money. Let me think a bit, +Fan."</p> + +<p>Fan was silent, and amused herself by looking up into the tiny patch of +blue-black sky over her head, and at the one bright little star which +seemed to be winking at her.</p> + +<p>Presently Ben said—</p> + +<p>"I have it, Fan! I know how we'll manage. I was helping all day to +unload a big waggon that came in with pears, and apples, and nuts, from +the country, to a shop not very far away from this; and the man told +me he meant to set off for home again to-night. And he came from the +direction we had better take; he seemed a good-natured fellow, and I +daresay he 'd give us a lift out into the country. Should you be afraid +to be left alone while I look for him? He's brother to the man that +owns the shop, so he's sure to be there to the last moment."</p> + +<p>"No," said Fan, "I shan't be alone, you know. He'll mind me, for He's +my Shepherd and I'm His lamb, you know. Miss Alice taught us all that. +Why, Ben, He didn't let the poor cross old woman hurt to-day! I was +'so' frightened for a moment, but then I remembered Him, and I knew +'twas all right."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well; no one will meddle with you if you keep far back—no one +could see you, in fact. You're a queer child, Fan! See now; I'll tuck +the shawl round you—so; and lay your head on the bundle, like that. +There; get a nap if you can. I shan't be very long away."</p> + +<p>Fan lay quite quiet. Once a policeman passed by, but he did not see +her; and she laughed gleefully when he was out of hearing. Many a child +in a pretty, comfortable nursery, tucked up snugly in a warm bed, did +not feel as peaceful and secure that night as did little Fan, lying on +a doorstep, all alone. Yet not alone! Because Fan knew and loved One, +about whom many children never think, because they cannot see Him.</p> + +<p>But Fan, poor ignorant child that she was in many ways, having never +been allowed to attend school regularly, had been happy in one thing: +her parents were rather glad to have her out of their way on Sunday +mornings, and she had, therefore, gone to Sunday school regularly +enough. Her teacher, the "Miss Alice" of whom she sometimes spoke, +had a wonderful gift for telling great truths in simple language: her +Bible stories were always listened to with earnest attention; and the +verses she taught the children in connection with the stories were not +easily forgotten. Thus Fan knew many verses perfectly, though she could +scarcely read, and could not write at all. Fortunately for her, her +small size caused her to be reckoned younger than she really was, and +so she had been left in her dear Miss Alice's class longer than she +would otherwise have been.</p> + +<p>Many a box on the ear had the child got at home, for talking of things +learned from Miss Alice, or for singing a hymn to quiet the baby: and +Mrs. Fairfax often declared that Fan was "only half-witted." A few +weeks before her illness, Miss Alice had given her a present which she +valued highly—a small New Testament. This precious book, which she +could hardly read, unless when, as she said herself, "she happened on +one of Miss Alice's verses," was in the pocket of her frock, safe and +tidy, wrapped up in a piece of paper. It was the only thing in the +world that Fan called her own.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Ben, returning after some time, found his small sister fast asleep, +and, stooping over her, touched her gently on the cheek and said—</p> + +<p>"Wake up, Fan; I've found the man, and he will give us a lift. A great +waggon with two horses! You'll travel like a queen—and he'll take us +fifty miles into the country if we like to go so far."</p> + +<p>"Fifty miles!" cried Fan, with sleepy admiration. "Why, shan't we be at +the end of the land before that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and then we'll swim a bit," said Ben, laughing. "Rouse up, child! +You're just like a young bird in the nest, always nodding its head, and +going off asleep the moment it leaves off being fed. Now, mind, Fan, +not a word of the fever to this man; for he 'd turn us out as fast as +ever Mrs. Harris did."</p> + +<p>"Would he, Ben? But why?"</p> + +<p>"Why? For fear he 'd take it, of course. So, mind now—not a word. +And don't forget this either, Fan. We'll call ourselves some other +name—Robson will do; it's better not to say Fairfax, because of father."</p> + +<p>Fan was silent, considering within herself whether this double +deception were right or not, but surely Ben must know better than +she could. She meant to ask him, but before she had quite shaped +her question to her liking, they had met the great waggon, and Ben +was putting her in. There was a glorious heap of clean straw in the +waggon, and it was so comfortable under the awning, and in spite of the +jolting, Fan was soon fast asleep.</p> + +<p>Before she woke again, the sun had risen and they were out of London, +to her great delight. London was so black, so noisy, and so ugly! The +big good-natured driver laughed kindly to see her so happy, and lifted +the awning in front that she might look about at her ease.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ben dear! It is so 'lovely' green, and pretty, and sweet. And +the bigness of it, after that little room, you know. And oh! I see a +flower, a yellow flower, over there. Don't you see it, Ben—and 'would' +you get it for me? Since I had—since I was sick, I have not seen a +flower. It won't be stealing, will it? For you see it is inside the +hedge."</p> + +<p>At this Ben and John Ellicott, the driver, laughed until their eyes +were full of tears. Ellicott stopped the waggon, and gathered the +flower (a big dandelion). He brought it to Fan, as she sat peeping out +of the waggon, and brought her also a blue flower, and a straggling +spray of late flowering woodbine.</p> + +<p>"That's a dandelion, that is," said he, evidently fancying that she had +never seen one before. "Main good for a pain in the side, my old mother +du say—they're plenty down tu Devonshire, though yew seem to prize her +so. And that's the 'devil in a bush,' child, but though her has a ugly +name, her 's a pretty flower, and in colour somewhat like your own +eyes. And smell to this, little 'un; there's sweetness tu ye."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, sir! It does seem so long since I saw flowers. Miss +Alice used to give me a rose sometimes, but—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly a bird—a linnet, I think it was—began to sing clear and sweet +in the hedge close by. Fan turned quite pale—listened in a kind of dumb +ecstasy, and when the song ceased, she burst into tears. And she was +still so weak, poor child, that having begun to cry, she could by no +means leave off, and Ben had to lay her down again in her cozy bed, and +let her cry herself to sleep.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The next time she awoke, the waggon was standing still, while the +horses ate a feed of oats out of their nosebags; and Ben was at her +side with a plate of bread and butter, and a huge mug of milk—such milk +as Fan had never tasted before, so rich and yellow was it.</p> + +<p>"Here's the stuff for you, Fan! Here's what would soon put a little +flesh on your poor little bones, and set you growing. Milk, Fan—here, +drink some."</p> + +<p>"Milk! And such milk! Well, I never saw milk like that, Ben. Don't you +think there's eggs in it?"</p> + +<p>"You never got any but skim milk, you see, but I told the people here +that you were poorly, and they gave me this fresh from the cow. Taste +it now—you won't be able to leave off once you begin, it's so good."</p> + +<p>"Have you had plenty, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've had my breakfast—bacon and eggs."</p> + +<p>Thus assured that she might safely drink the milk, Fan tasted it, +stared into the mug, and tasted again. It was very nice, but to the +last, she kept a look-out for egg-shells!</p> + +<p>While she was eating her breakfast, her little tongue wagged freely. +The boys about F— would have told you that Ben Fairfax was "a roughish +customer," but he could never have been rough to Fan, for though a +timid child, she had no dread of him, but prattled away happily.</p> + +<p>"And while I was going asleep, Ben, that time you left me, I kept +wondering and wondering why the stars wink and tremble so. But I think +I see why, now. It's blowing up there, very like, and there's no +glasses over the stars, as there is over the gas lamps. One gas lamp +we passed had a broken glass, and it was winking and shaking very much +like the stars. It's a wonderful thing the stars don't get blown out! +They would, I suppose, only God watches them. He knows them all and +calls them by their names, and knows where they ought to be."</p> + +<p>Ben laughed incredulously.</p> + +<p>"That's a likely notion, Fan. Why, there's hundreds and hundreds of +stars, and some of them no bigger than a pin's head; and as to names, +and counting them over, no one could do that, child."</p> + +<p>This was Ben's objection, you see, to a revealed truth; and I don't +know that it was more silly than a good many other objections that I +have heard.</p> + +<p>"He can do it, for the Bible says so. 'He knoweth the number of the +stars, and calleth them all by their names.' That's a verse in the +Bible, Ben. Miss Alice taught us that. Oh, Ben, that little bird—Miss +Alice has a little pet bird, and one day it sang, when I was at the +rectory with a message—and it sang just like that; and I wonder, shall +I ever see Miss Alice again? Wasn't it good of God to make birds and +flowers for us?"</p> + +<p>"We'll see prettier flowers than those by-and-by," said Ben, pointing +to the blue scabious and the dandelion; the woodbine had fallen to +pieces, unfortunately.</p> + +<p>"But these are pretty too. I'm sure I could walk now, Ben. I have not +felt so strong since I was ill."</p> + +<p>"But you are very snug here, in the waggon. Why do you want to leave +it?"</p> + +<p>"It is very nice, but I want to ask you—Bennie darling, you won't be +vexed with me? Don't you think it's very near telling a lie not telling +the man that it was the fever had?"</p> + +<p>"Lie or no lie, it must not be told. He 'd just bundle us out neck +and crop. Mrs. Harris would never have let us in only I told her it +was decline that ailed you, and you went and let out the truth, you +little donkey. There, don't fret, dear; it did not really matter much, +because, as I told you before, I met a policeman that seemed to know +me, and so we must have left London soon. Why, what are you crying for, +child?"</p> + +<p>Poor Fan! She was indeed crying bitterly. Never, in all her short and +somewhat sad life, had her tender heart been so sore as now. Her father +and mother told lies, and did many other things that were not right, +but Ben had been so little at home that he had not been tempted to say +or do anything in her presence which would have betrayed to her his +true character. Loving him as she did, and always finding him kind and +affectionate, the poor child had believed him to be nearly as good as +Miss Alice herself, and this was, therefore, a terrible blow to her.</p> + +<p>"Stop crying, Fan! Don't fret, dear," said Ben, kissing her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ben dear! Don't you know you must not tell lies? Oh, whatever +shall I do, my own darling good Bennie? I'm so sorry for you."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a little fool," he answered, kissing her again. "'You' shan't +need to tell any; I'll say all that's wanted, and you need only hold +your tongue."</p> + +<p>"But—but it hurts me that you should do it, Ben. Wait a moment, and +I'll tell you why."</p> + +<p>She thought for a moment, knitting her brows with the effort to +remember something.</p> + +<p>"It is a hard verse, and I forget part; it's about the New +Jerusalem—that's heaven, you know. Now listen."</p> + +<p>She did not remember the words very correctly, and Ben listened with +a half smile, as she stumbled through them; but the last verse she +knew very well, and it came out clear and distinct, making him start +slightly.</p> + +<p>"'Neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie.' So you see, +Ben dear, we must not tell lies, or the gates of pearl will be shut, +and never let us in at all."</p> + +<p>What Ben might have said, I do not know, for at that moment John +Ellicott lifted the awning close to where Fan sat, and said, gruffly—</p> + +<p>"I'm going to start now so give back those cups and plates."</p> + +<p>Out jumped Ben, returned the articles in question, paid for the +breakfast, and helped to put the horses to. Very soon they were jogging +along the road again, but the pleasure of the drive was over for poor +Fan.</p> + +<p>For about four miles they went at a steady pace, Ellicott keeping by +his horses' heads, and saying never a word. But at last they came to +a cross-road. Here he stopped the waggon, and addressed Ben, who was +sitting in front with Fan on his knee.</p> + +<p>"Now, yu young fellow," he said, quietly, "get ye out o' thot. I was +alongside of ye this morning longer than ye thought for, and I know +that it was fever the child had, and that you're hiding from the +police. P'raps I did ought to give yu up to the police, for it's my +belief you're a bad sort, but I can't do it, 'cause of the innocent +child there. You see yon road? I'm going straight on, and you take that +road, and don't cross my path no more, or I'll make you wish you had +kept out of it, with your tricks and your lies. There's your bundle: +good-bye, child, and I wish yu a better caretaker nor he."</p> + +<p>"There couldn't be a better," Fan exclaimed, with tearful emphasis. +"He's so good to me, sir, you don't know."</p> + +<p>Not a word did poor Ben say. His face was crimson, and he could not +look his accuser in the face, as he jumped out of the waggon, and set +off along the road pointed out to him, with Fan trotting tearfully at +his heels.</p> + +<p>At last, he slackened his pace, remembering her weakness, and Fan stole +up to his side.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ben! Wasn't he angry?" she ventured to say. "I was so frightened. +Were you frightened, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"Frightened! Not I. Hard words break no bones. Never mind, Fan; we'll +do well enough now. We're a good way out of London. Only you see for +yourself, now, that it won't do to tell everything to every one."</p> + +<p>Fan said nothing, but her heart was very heavy. She was soon tired, +too, poor child; and then Ben took her on his back, and carried her +a few miles, but that soon wearied him. Then they came to a little +village, where they bought bread and milk and a lodging for the night. +In the morning, Ben went all over the place seeking for work, but it +was a very small place, and no one wanted a strange lad: there was +no haymaking at that time of the year, and the harvest work was very +light, as it was a grazing district. So the forlorn pair journeyed on, +in hopes of reaching some place where they might find work.</p> + +<p>Now, although Ben put a bold face on the matter, he was beginning +to get frightened, for the few shillings he possessed were melting +rapidly; and though Fan was certainly gaining strength every day, she +could not walk very far yet, and a few days of insufficient food would +probably kill her. The nights, too, were getting cold, so that it was +no longer a good joke to sleep under a hay-rick, or in a dry ditch, and +these were the only beds they could now afford.</p> + +<p>Ben often thought of the peace and plenty of the Lee farm. Oh, if he +could only have taken Fan there, and gone back to his work under good +farmer Heath, how glad he would have been to do it! But the doors of +that friendly shelter were shut against him, and that by his own act. +Ay, and what was that story which Fan told him the other day about +other doors which would be closed, and never let him pass through at +all? "Whatsoever maketh a lie."</p> + +<p>"That's me, for sure," thought Ben; "I do dearly love taking folk in. +It's such fun to spin away your story, and to see 'em swallowing it +whole. It takes a sharp fellow to do it, though. Now, Sam Hadley never +gets people to believe him. But if that city really means heaven, it +might be very awkward for me. Fan," he said, aloud, "I want to hear +that story about the city with the pearl gates and the golden streets +again. While we're resting here, you might give us a spell of it."</p> + +<p>Poor Fan! That verse, and others of like meaning, had never been out +of her head since that conversation in the waggon. That her Ben—kind, +strong, good Ben—should be in danger of being shut out of that lovely +city! With a sigh she fumbled in her pocket, and brought out the parcel +which contained her little book.</p> + +<p>"I can't say the whole of it right, Ben, nor I can't read it well, +I'm afraid. Miss Alice gave me this, and she marked the verses we'd +learned. It's near the end, I know—ah, here it is! I'll read it all."</p> + +<p>And she began stumbling through it. Ben held out his hand for the book.</p> + +<p>"Give that here, little un. I can read faster than you do."</p> + +<p>Ben could read quite well enough to make the meaning of the words +plain. Fan pointed to the verse, and he began at once. The child +listened with delight.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how pretty!" she said. "Ben, it must be very nice to be able to +read like that."</p> + +<p>"I'll teach you, when we get settled somewhere—if we ever do. It's very +easy, once you know the letters. But I'm thinking that if no one that +tells lies goes into that city, there won't be many people to live in +it."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, there will, Ben. There's a great many good people in the +world."</p> + +<p>"Well, but what's to become of the rest?" said Ben, in a defiantly +careless tone. "For more than half the people I know tell lies +like-like winking."</p> + +<p>Fan looked up at him with her whole heart in her loving, sorrowful eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Bennie!" she said. "Don't you know there's another place?"</p> + +<p>Ben jumped up, and walked a few paces away. He stood there for some +time, and then called out, "Come along, Fan! We'd best be getting on a +bit."</p> + +<p>Fan went after him, and they walked in silence for a little way.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could get work," Ben said at last. "It will come to starving +soon, Fan, if I don't."</p> + +<p>"I ask God every night and every morning, Ben, to send us a friend and +work for you."</p> + +<p>"Much good that has done," growled Ben.</p> + +<p>"Ah! But you wait a bit, and see. I'm sure He'll mind me when it's the +right time."</p> + +<p>After this, whenever they stopped to rest, Fan would coax her brother +to give her a reading lesson, and to "read a bit" for her. Ben never +refused the request, but he made no remark upon what he read after that +first day. One evening she asked him a question, wishing to get him to +talk, and he said—</p> + +<p>"It's all very fine, no doubt, but I changed my last shilling this +morning, and I don't see the help you talk of coming yet. If what I +read is any pleasure to you, I'm glad you get it, Fan. But half-a-crown +would be more in my line."</p> + +<p>Still, he read for her. And the silken cord was strong, pulling him in +the right direction.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image012" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image012.jpg" alt="image012"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image013" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image013.jpg" alt="image013"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>PEARL.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE last shilling changed, and yet no work to be had! That was, indeed, +a very serious matter, which made even Fan look grave. And the nights +were very chill now; it rained often and the wind howled. A shilling +does not last long when two hungry young things are eating it up; and +all too soon this shilling was gone, and nothing left but a crust of +bread. They shared the crust next morning and wandered on.</p> + +<p>After some time they came to a place where some men were repairing the +road. A cart, with the horse standing by it munching some hay, was +tilted up under the hedge. The men were at a little distance and a +turn in the road concealed them, although their voices sounded quite +near. In the cart was a half-open basket, containing a great piece +of home-made bread and some cheese. Ben saw it; he looked quickly +round—there was no one to see. Quick as lightning the food was in his +hand, and hidden in his bundle.</p> + +<p>"Come along, child," he said, roughly, to Fan, who had stopped short in +horror; "do you want me to be caught? Come away quickly; here's enough +to keep us from starving to-day, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Fan ran up to him, threw her arms round him, and with agony in the eyes +she raised to the blue sky over her head, she whispered—</p> + +<p>"Oh, do forgive! Do forgive him!" Then catching Ben's hand, she hurried +on. "Put it back. No one sees us, except God—and He saw you take it. +Put it back—quick, quick."</p> + +<p>"You don't mind starving, then?"</p> + +<p>"Put it back," she repeated. "God will take care of us—only don't do +this."</p> + +<p>Ben pitched the bread and cheese back into the basket, and let the +child pull him on. They passed the men safely; no one had observed them.</p> + +<p>In dead silence they went on for some time. Then Ben, who had +been stalking on in front, looked back over his shoulder and said +gruffly—"I've done the like of that often before now, Fan."</p> + +<p>Poor Fan, who was trotting rather than walking to keep pace with his +long strides, looked up at him with such love in her eyes that it was +all he could do not to burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"You didn't know then that it was a sin," she said. "You'll never do +the like again; I know that."</p> + +<p>"I did know," Ben replied.</p> + +<p>"But you didn't think of it," she persisted. "I know you won't do it +any more."</p> + +<p>"Then we may as well lay down and die; that's about it," he said.</p> + +<p>"'Indeed,' no, Bennie darling; we'll beg. There's no sin in begging, +you know. Look, there's such a pretty cottage, with nice flowers all up +the walk. You rest a bit, Ben, while I run up to that house and beg."</p> + +<p>"A big strong chap like me to be driven to begging," cried Ben, +desperately. He would not have felt half so disgraced by taking the +bread and cheese. "No, no, Fan; you rest, and I'll go. There might be a +wicked dog about, and I'd rather go myself."</p> + +<p>"But, Ben, you 'won't' do that, will you?"</p> + +<p>"I won't, there, I promise you."</p> + +<p>Glad to rest her weary limbs, the child sank down on a stone by the +wayside. Ben went up to the cottage, and, after some hesitation, +knocked at the door. It was promptly opened by a tall old woman of a +very severe and wrathful expression of countenance, who said crossly—</p> + +<p>"And, pray, what do you want?"</p> + +<p>"I thought, perhaps, ma'am, you could give me work," Ben answered, +meekly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't, then. I can do all my own work yet, thank Heaven. Is it +only to ask idle questions that you called me away from my dinner?"</p> + +<p>Ben did not stop to point out that to ask for work could hardly with +justice be termed an idle question; there was such a good smell +issuing from the door, as if the dinner he had interrupted were very +appetising, that it made the poor fellow hungrier than ever, and he +said hurriedly—</p> + +<p>"Then maybe, ma'am, you'd give me something—a little food? I've a +sister—"</p> + +<p>"Ill in bed, and no food to give her!" interrupted the old woman. "Are +you sure you haven't a mother dead, and no money to bury her, and a +father with a broken leg? Get you gone, you great idle vagabone. Break +stones on the road, and earn your bread! A big lad like you to beg! Be +off now, or I'll set the dogs at you. Here, Fury! Here, Snap!"</p> + +<p>But poor Ben was gone. In all his wanderings he had never been so +rudely treated, and he flew down the narrow flower-bordered path almost +as if the dogs in question were at his heels.</p> + +<p>"Come away, Fan, dear. She's got dogs, and she says she'll set them on +us; and I haven't so much as a stick to keep them off."</p> + +<p>So they wandered on again, and the old woman went back again to her +plentiful dinner. I trust it is not wrong to hope that it disagreed +with her!</p> + +<p>Park palings bordered one side of the road now, and fine trees shaded +the two forlorn creatures. Fan was faint and sleepy from hunger; her +feet dragged along in the white dust, and her eyes were closing, but +she tried to smile whenever Ben looked at her.</p> + +<p>"Fan," he said, at last, "is this the way God takes care of you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand it at all," the child answered, with a little sob. +"But He was very tired once, and sat down beside a well; and asked a +woman who came there with a pitcher to give Him a drink of water."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't He take the water when the well was so handy? I'd have +stooped down and had some without the woman's help."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why He didn't. Oh, Ben, I am 'so' sleepy; let us get into +the wood here and rest."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you shall rest, and I will go on a bit, and see if I can find +some one that will listen to me, at least. Here's a gate; I'll lift you +over—there. Come along a bit of this path that you may not be seen from +the road."</p> + +<p>A nice smooth path through the wood (they had left the park palings +behind them) presently brought them to what looked like a toy cottage, +of which the door stood open. It was roughly built, but neatly finished +inside, and fitted up with a tiny fireplace, a table, and some chairs, +a cupboard in one corner with glass doors, showing plates and cups +ranged in rows; and in the other corner a tall press. Both cupboard and +press were locked. They had ventured in, seeing no one about, but Ben +thought it would not do to remain there.</p> + +<p>"Come, Fan, and I'll make you a snug hiding-place behind this house; +that will be a good shelter for you, and—Why, bless the child! She's +fast asleep already."</p> + +<p>The poor little weary thing! She had slipped down all in a heap on the +rough floor, and was, indeed, fast asleep. Ben had not the heart to +disturb her.</p> + +<p>"Even if they come in, they can't harm the child," he muttered. "I'll +just let her be."</p> + +<p>He wrapped her up in the brown shawl, and taking off his jacket, rolled +it up to make a pillow for the little weary head. Then he went away, +leaving the door open, as Fan might awake, and not be able to open it. +He ran back to the high road, and hastened on, to try once more to find +work, or help of some kind.</p> + +<p>Now this place—wood, park, cottage, and all—belonged to Mr. Harewood, +a very rich man, and a great man in those parts. A little further on, +Ben would come to a grand gate, with a lodge and a lodge-keeper. And if +he could coax said lodge-keeper to let him in, he would presently reach +a venerable, many gabled house with numerous windows shining in the +sun, bright flowers all about, sweet scents filling the air, peacocks +strutting to and fro, dogs lying before the door, in fact, every token +of wealth and comfort; more than comfort, for there was an air of +happiness about the whole place.</p> + +<p>Mr. Harewood was a kind master, and a most affectionate husband and +father. He was very fond of his five fine boys, but he was more than +fond of his gentle, loving daughter, Pearl. A name which exactly suited +her, for she was white and pure, and fair to look upon, and very +precious to those who had the good fortune to know her. She was her +father's chief treasure, the joy of his life; and there was nothing +that jolly, loud-voiced, hard-riding, hospitable Squire Harewood would +not have done to please his daughter.</p> + +<p>Fortunately for Pearl, her mother was a wise woman, and so she was not +spoiled. It certainly did seem as if so sweet a child could hardly be +spoiled by any amount of indulgence, but still, as no one is perfect, +it was well for Pearl that she had a mother as well as a father.</p> + +<p>Pearl was now the only child at home. The youngest of her five +brothers, hitherto her companion and playfellow, had gone to school +at last, and Pearl had felt the loss very much. Many were the plans +devised by her father for her amusement, lest his darling should fret, +which, to do her justice, Pearl tried hard not to do.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, as summer drew on, the child missed her brother very +much. And Mr. Harewood looked about anxiously for some new interest, +something in which Frank had never borne part, to occupy her mind. So +it happened one day, when they were riding home together from a visit +to a great farm some way off, Pearl said to her father—</p> + +<p>"Did you see Nelly Patterson making the bread, papa? It looked such +delightful work; and Nelly is not much older than I am. Oh, papa, it +would be so nice to make bread, and pies, and things, and have a little +oven, all my own. Turner—" (the housekeeper) "only thinks me in her way +if I go to her to learn, but I'm sure I could cook and bake, and it +would be such fun."</p> + +<p>"Funny stuff your bread would be," remarked Mr. Harewood, and said no +more. But he had got the idea he wanted, and was privately rejoicing +over it.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Next day he told Pearl not to go into the beech drive until he gave her +leave. And when she looked surprised, he told her that he thought the +fairies were at work there, and it was better not to disturb them. And +not another word would he say, though Pearl coaxed him all the evening.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Harewood went to the nearest town on a shopping expedition. +And a cart went next day to bring home her purchases; and she would +neither take Pearl with her, nor tell her what she went to buy. So +Pearl was on tip-toe with curiosity, for she much suspected that some +delightful surprise was preparing for her. She and her pleasant young +governess, Miss Ayrton, had many talks about it, but Miss Ayrton was +not in the secret, whatever it was.</p> + +<p>However, one bright day (it was the very day on which I first +introduced you to Ben, in the lane leading to the Lee farm), Mr. +Harewood walked into the school-room just at the hour when lesson books +were being put away. With him came Mrs. Harewood, ready dressed for +walking.</p> + +<p>"Pearl," said Mr. Harewood, "can you spare time to come and see what +the fairies have been about in the beech drive?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you darling papa! You are the nicest fairy I ever heard of. What +is it, papa? Do tell me. I cannot wait until I get there."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry for that, my dear. For the queen fairy, when I saw her just +now, standing in the door of—"</p> + +<p>"Tom!" cried Mrs. Harewood, warningly.</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind where she stood,—she told me the whole affair, every +stick and—"</p> + +<p>"Tom, dear!" cried his wife again. "You know you wanted to keep it +secret."</p> + +<p>"I shan't say another word except just this, everything would vanish +away in half a second, if I told you what it is before you get there. +So come along, Pearlie! Miss Ayrton, you come too."</p> + +<p>Pearl seized her hat, and set off at a pace which soon obliged her +mother to cry for mercy. The day was hot, and no one over twelve years +old would have thought of running. So they walked—only Pearl had to +dance along, just to ease her impatience. Behold, when they had paced +along two-thirds of the drive, they came upon a little cottage, quite +new to Pearl. It was very small, but it contained two tiny rooms; the +larger fitted up with a kitchen range of minute proportions, tables, +chairs, a cupboard stored with household utensils, and a press to hold +stores—and very well stored was this press, too, by Mrs. Harewood's +care.</p> + +<p>Pearl's delight in her new possession was very great, and all through +that summer she had taken the greatest pleasure in it. Gathering dry +sticks to kindle her fire, compounding wonderful cakes and pies and +baking them in the little oven, boiling potatoes, giving a tea-party to +a few select friends, entertaining Frank at a dinner-party during the +holidays; all these were entrancing amusements, and Miss Ayrton was by +no means too old or too wise to enjoy them too.</p> + +<p>Need I tell you that it was into this little toy house that poor weary +Fan had found her way? Pearl generally locked the door, but having been +in a hurry the evening before, she had forgotten even to shut it.</p> + +<p>Lessons were over for the day, and Pearl was on the way to her cottage, +carrying a basket of supplies. Miss Ayrton had a letter to write, but +was to follow soon; and Pearl meant to have the fire lighted, the +kettle boiling, and a cake in the oven before she came.</p> + +<p>"Now, how careless of me to leave the door open! Papa desired me always +to lock it, for fear any one might get in. And I declare, here is a +little girl asleep on the floor. How very wrong of her, but she looks +so tired. Still I shall just wake her up and tell her to go away, for I +know papa would be vexed if I let her stay."</p> + +<p>It was not easy to rouse poor Fan. And when she was awake, she looked +so feeble and frightened, and stared with such wondering blue eyes at +the dainty little lady before her, that Pearl quite forgot to bid her +go away.</p> + +<p>"Little girl," she said, "you look dreadful! So white and thin. What is +the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"I—I'm hungry. And tired, and—frightened, miss," faltered Fan.</p> + +<p>"Don't be frightened, though. You are quite safe here, indeed. And if +you are hungry you shall have some bread. Is it not well that I brought +some, for fear the cake would go wrong? And some milk. I can run home +for some more for ourselves. Eat this, you poor little dear—wait, +though, until I give you a cup and plate."</p> + +<p>Fan's look when she took the bread, Pearl Harewood never forgot. It +made the tenderly nurtured child feel perfectly faint and sick for a +moment. To her astonishment, however, the child did not eat quite half +the bread, and only drank a very little milk.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would eat more, little girl," said Pearl. "You don't feel +ill, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, miss; I feel quite well now. But may I keep this for Ben? He's +worse than me, because he is big and strong, and wants more food than I +do."</p> + +<p>"Who is Ben?"</p> + +<p>"My brother, miss. He is gone on to see if anybody will help us, or +give him work. He will come back for me very soon; he only left me +because I could not keep awake any longer. I thought I was going to +die."</p> + +<p>"You poor little thing! Where do you live?"</p> + +<p>"We've been going about, miss, Ben trying to get work. He is very +strong, and willing, and clever, and so good to me, miss. But no one +seems to want work done for them; an old woman in a pretty cottage out +that way," pointing in the direction she fancied she had come from, +"was even angry, and said she 'd set dogs upon us."</p> + +<p>"Granny Thirlston, I am sure. I wish she would not be so cross," said +Pearl. "Eat all that bread, little girl, and I will get some more for +your brother. Now I must make my cake and light my fire, or Miss Ayrton +will be here before I have anything ready for her. Sit on that chair by +the window, and eat every bit of the bread."</p> + +<p>A command most easy and pleasant to obey! Fan did not leave a crumb, +and was in the very act of swallowing the last drop of the delicious +milk, when Miss Ayrton made her appearance.</p> + +<p>"Why, Pearl!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Whom have you here?"</p> + +<p>Pearl laughed; such a pleasant, merry laugh, that poor frightened Fan, +who had risen, and was performing a series of nervous curtseys with her +cup in one hand and her hat in the other, smiled too, and looked less +alarmed.</p> + +<p>"It is a little girl whom I found here asleep. She wandered in, poor +little thing! And fell asleep, she was so tired and hungry. If you had +only seen her! She looks quite different now. Her brother will come for +her in a short time; he went to try and get work."</p> + +<p>Fan, though still very thin, had quite lost the look of recent severe +illness, having got sunburned during her wanderings; and her hair had +grown long enough to present a respectable appearance again. She was +not a pretty child, but she was a very gentle, pleasant-looking little +creature, with very frank, honest blue eyes. Moreover, thanks to poor +despoiled Etty Spence's blue frock, she was tolerably clean and tidy, +save for her very battered hat and shoes. Miss Ayrton, therefore, was +not alarmed to see her so near her precious charge, though she said—</p> + +<p>"I almost think your papa would not like your having her here, Pearl, +but yet you could not turn her out until her brother comes. You must +have left the door open. That was careless, dear. Is your brother quite +a big boy, little one? For there was a lad at the hall door when I came +out, and I think he was asking for work."</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am; Ben's fourteen, and very strong and big."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Harewood was speaking to him. He said he had left his sister at a +cottage not far off, but I never thought of this cottage."</p> + +<p>"We thought some one lived here, ma'am, and was out at work; and then I +was so very tired that I think I fell asleep before Ben could tell what +to do."</p> + +<p>A few questions drew from Fan an account of their adventures. She told +how her mother and baby brother had died. "But it was a long time ago," +she said, and honestly thought so, too; for the time since that had +happened seemed longer than all the rest of her ten years. Her father, +she said, was "in trouble." And Ben took her away because, if not she +must have gone to the workhouse. Fan had no intention to deceive her +hearers, or to conceal anything, but neither did she wish to say a word +that could give them a bad idea of Ben. And so she merely answered Miss +Ayrton's questions; and had she been an accomplished deceiver, instead +of a very innocent child, she could not have managed matters better!</p> + +<p>"Father was in trouble" meant a great deal in Fan's diction, but +conveyed very little to Miss Ayrton and Pearl, who were so interested +that they let the fire go out, and forgot the half-made cake.</p> + +<p>"Think of the poor things wandering here and there, and not able to get +work!" said Pearl. "Were you not very frightened, little girl?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am," Fan answered very quietly. "Why should I? 'He' is as near +us in the country as in the street; indeed, I think it feels as if +He was nearer. And He takes care of us. Only this morning I thought +perhaps He had forgotten; and now you see He sent us help. He brought +us here."</p> + +<p>"Who did, child?" said Miss Ayrton.</p> + +<p>"The Lord Jesus, ma'am. He promised, you know. It's in the Bible, 'Ask, +and ye shall receive;' and about the fowls of the air, you know, 'Are +ye not much better than the sparrows?' And I asked every night and +morning. And, oh ma'am, 'could' you please tell me this—When He was +weary and sat by the well, and asked the woman for a drink, why didn't +He just stoop down and take the water? Ben said that to-day, and I did +not know."</p> + +<p>Miss Ayrton looked hard at the child. Was she talking in this way +to make an impression, or was it natural? Poor Fan! She looked very +innocent, it seemed hard to suspect her of such deceit, and Miss Ayrton +answered the question.</p> + +<p>"Water is very scarce in that country, and the wells are very deep. +Probably no water could be got from that well without a rope and a +pitcher which you could let down. You know the woman said to Him 'the +well is deep.'"</p> + +<p>"So she did, ma'am; I'd forgotten that."</p> + +<p>"Here comes some one, Miss Ayrton," said Pearl. "I suppose this is Ben."</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss, this is our Ben. Come here, Ben," Fan cried, as the lad +stopped short at the door, somewhat abashed. "This young lady found me +here asleep, and she gave me milk and bread, Ben, and promised me more +for you. Oh, Ben," she whispered, running up to him, "you see we were +not forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Come in, Ben," said Pearl, kindly.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, miss. But I see we've no right to be here at all. I did not +think it was a summer-house, like, miss, or I would not have made so +free. I thought 'twas a real cottage, and then Fan fell asleep before I +could look round. Come, Fan, I've got plenty of dinner for both of us."</p> + +<p>"I think you were up at the house when I came out," said Miss Ayrton. +"Was it there they gave you some dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss, and the lady bid me come again to-morrow, and she would +give me some weeding to do. So I must look-out for some place for us to +sleep in. Come, Fan. The lady was very kind."</p> + +<p>"That is my mother," said Pearl; "and bring Fan with you when you come +to-morrow, please, for I want to see her again. If you like to rest +here and eat your dinner, you may, for Miss Ayrton and I must go home +for our luncheon to-day. I can run down in the evening and lock the +doors."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, miss, thank you! I couldn't give you the trouble. It's such a +fine day, too, that it's no hardship to be out. Now, Fan. Good morning, +miss, and thank you kindly."</p> + +<p>Fan made her very best curtsey, and a queer little performance it was. +Then she ran after Ben down the path, her face radiant with smiles.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Ayrton, is not this like a story in a book?" exclaimed Pearl. +"And is not Fan a nice child? And is not that a kind boy? Did you +remark how kindly he looked at her when he spoke? And she seemed so +pleased to see him again. Oh, they must not wander about any more—they +must stay here, and Ben can work in the garden, and—"</p> + +<p>She remained silent for a moment or two, and then burst out, with a cry +of delight—</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have thought of a plan, such a lovely, delightful plan; and I +must run at once and get papa to say yes to it."</p> + +<p>"But you must come home first, and have something to eat, Pearl. It +won't do to go without luncheon, even for a nice little girl and a +lovely plan."</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh at me," cried Pearl gaily; "for I assure you this is the +best plan I ever made in my life."</p> + +<p>No sooner had Pearl eaten a very hasty meal, than she inquired where +her father was likely to be found, and set forth in search of him, +full of her new plan, and longing to get his consent to it. And truly +that must have been a very wild plan to which Mr. Harewood would have +refused consent, if Pearl had set her heart upon it.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image014" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image014.jpg" alt="image014"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image015" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image015.jpg" alt="image015"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>HOW BEN'S SIN FOUND HIM OUT.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THIS adventure caused a great change for the better in the fortunes of +Fan and Ben Robson, as they were called, Ben having still kept to that +adopted name. This deception was the only thing which troubled Fan now, +and even she sometimes forgot it, she was so happy. Pearl Harewood had, +as she usually did, persuaded her father to consent to her plan, which +was, to establish the pair in her Fairy Cottage, and there to visit +Fan, and teach her all the arts of cooking baking, cleaning, etc., +which she had herself acquired during that merry summer.</p> + +<p>Ben was at first given work in the garden, but as he said he was more +accustomed to stable work, he was soon put under the orders of the +head groom, and quickly showed that he might be made a very valuable +servant. He was most anxious to establish a good character; the danger +of his idle, dishonest habits, had been made plain to him of late, and +his readings with Fan had also made a deep impression on him. He was +quite determined to "turn over a new leaf," and this was the easier, +because he was very happy.</p> + +<p>Pearl and Miss Ayrton took a great interest in him, and having +discovered his taste for natural history, they lent him books on that +subject and encouraged him to study it. Pearl had an uncle, who was +a great naturalist, and she had very often helped him to arrange his +treasures, and heard him discuss them, so that she could appreciate +Ben's really accurate and intelligent habits of observation. This +uncle, Mr. Francis Sydney, came to Harewood after a time, and paid a +long visit, during which he took quite a fancy to Ben, and gave him a +good deal of instruction.</p> + +<p>What a happy time it was! Ben had never been so happy in his life; and +as to Fan, her bliss was all but perfect. "Miss Pearl" taught her to +read, to write, to sew, to knit and to sing; also to make bread (which +Fan soon did a great deal better than her teacher, whose bread was a +very uncertain matter), and finally to wash and iron. These lessons in +ironing resulted in some terribly scorched garments—in fact, poor Etty +Spence's blue frock came to an untimely end on one occasion. But then, +as Pearl remarked, "everything must have a beginning." It was the end +of the frock, but the beginning of success, for they never met with so +serious a misfortune again.</p> + +<p>As soon as Ben was settled in his new place, he wrote to kindhearted +Mrs. Simmonds, begging her to let him know what she heard of his +father. The answer came in due time. Fairfax had got off for want of +sufficient evidence against him, and had returned to his old cottage; +only, however, to sicken and die of the fever which still lingered +in the place. So there was no danger of his appearing to claim his +children, and Ben felt that a fair prospect lay before him.</p> + +<p>"But, Ben, may we not tell people now that our name is Fairfax, not +Robson?" said Fan. "I do feel so vexed when Miss Pearl says that name. +I hate to think that we are telling a lie."</p> + +<p>"It's not a lie, exactly," said Ben. "One name's as good as another, +and I've a right to call myself what I like."</p> + +<p>"Yet it is 'not' true, Ben. And 'now' it's of no use, that poor father +is dead."</p> + +<p>"But how could we go and tell every one that we gave a false name at +first? And besides, I have another reason," added Ben, nodding his +head, "so say no more about it, Fan."</p> + +<p>Then after a minute's silence, he said—</p> + +<p>"Guess what I found out yesterday about that cross old woman, Mrs. +Thirlston,—she who lives at the pretty cottage where we asked for help, +do you remember? Well, you know she threatened to set dogs at us, and +called as if she had dogs there ready; and Tom Johnson tells me she has +never a dog at all, and always calls like that when any one asks her +for anything! It's well for her that I've made up my mind to go in for +no more nonsense, or she might find that her dogs wouldn't protect her +apple trees, some of these moonlight nights."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you wouldn't, Ben! She does look cross; and the other day she +stopped me, when I was going to the shop, and asked me my name, and +how old I was, and she stared at me so hard all the time. Indeed, she +frightened me so that I very nearly forgot, and said Fairfax, but just +in time I remembered. And she said, 'Have you a stutter, child? Or are +you a fool?'"</p> + +<p>Something in this story tickled Ben's fancy very much. He roared +laughing, and made Fan repeat it several times, each time enjoying it +as much as the first. Fan was quite surprised.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, at last, "I must be off, for my dinner hour is up. +'Twas well you remembered in time, Fan; and mind you're careful, for +the name of Fairfax would do us no good here. And if we are only +careful, we are made up for life here."</p> + +<p>"Be sure your sin will find you out" was a text which Ben had never +met with. It is a very true saying, and one often misunderstood. It is +your sin that finds you. No arbitrary punishment for it, but the very +sin itself. So surely as you will burn your hand if you put it into +the fire; so surely as you will suffer agony if you swallow poison; +so surely will your sin prove its own punishment—so surely, sooner or +later, will it "find you out." And this, though it does not look like +a blessing, will prove a blessing if we will take it humbly and use it +well.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Months passed away. Winter came and went, spring brightened the land, +summer brought warmth and beauty; and still Ben and his little sister +lived in their toy cottage, and were very happy. Fan grew tall and +rosy, and looked very different from the stray, forlorn child, who had +dropped asleep on the floor of Pearl's Fairy Cottage.</p> + +<p>The brother and sister attended church regularly; and one hot Sunday +they were coming out of church among the rest, when a girl exclaimed, +suddenly stopping before Ben and staring at him—</p> + +<p>"Ben Fairfax! Why, how came 'you' here?"</p> + +<p>Ben turned crimson, and then pale. His usual quickness deserted him, +and he stood silent. Fan looked from one face to another but could not +make out what was going on. "Fairfax!" cried the person to whom the +girl seemed to belong. "Why, child, that's Ben Robson; he is one of the +under-grooms at Harewood."</p> + +<p>"Robson! I don't care what he may call himself, Esther, nor where he +may work. That's Ben Fairfax, who was with us last summer, and ran away +after robbing the garden, and stole Tom Digges's wages, and Etty's blue +frock, besides owing money in the village. And father says 'twas just +a providence that he didn't burn the place over our heads, sleeping +in the hayloft without leave, and smoking his pipe in it! And, if you +don't believe me, just look at him."</p> + +<p>Poor Ben! He was a spectacle at that moment, it must be confessed. He +looked ready to sink into the ground with shame, and so plainly had +lost his wits for the moment, that Fan, controlling her great desire to +cry, caught him by the hand and led him to the gate.</p> + +<p>Once away from the girl who had thus recognized him, Ben came to +himself and hurried away, Fan running along at his side with a scared +look.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Ben?" she said.</p> + +<p>"It's ruin! That's what it is," he answered bitterly. And he muttered +words under his breath, which filled the child with horror though she +only half heard them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ben dear! Don't do like that."</p> + +<p>"Why not? What's the use of trying to go right, when a thing like this +turns up and ruins you. Hold your tongue, child, and let me alone. I +give up."</p> + +<p>The girl who had recognized Ben Fairfax was no other than pretty Alice +Heath, who was come to pay a visit to her married sister, Mrs. Spence, +mother of little Etty, whose blue frock Ben had stolen, and Fan had +worn, and Pearl had burned! Several people had stopped to listen to +what was going on, for, in her agitation, Alice had raised her voice +not a little. Among these was a groom from Harewood, and old Mrs. +Thirlston, in her well-preserved black silk, looking as cross as usual. +She could hardly have looked crosser. Mr. Spence was there, too. He was +a very respectable man, and kept a grocer's shop in the village, and he +was not a little annoyed at what had happened, as he knew that Ben was +rather a favourite with the ladies at Harewood.</p> + +<p>"What's the meaning of this about young Robson, Mr. Spence?" said the +groom.</p> + +<p>"Some fancy of my wife's sister, but I dare say she's mistaken. Say no +more, Alice—you'll only make mischief, and you can't be so very sure."</p> + +<p>"But I am sure! I never was surer of anything in my life. That's Ben +Fairfax, and he's a real bad boy, and behaved most ungrateful to father +and mother, as was very good to him, and stole Etty's blue frock the +night he ran away."</p> + +<p>"Well, do you know," said Mrs. Spence, disregarding her husband's +expressive looks, "when the two first came here, the girl had on a +frock that was very like the one I made for Etty when she was going to +grandma's. Do you remember I said so to you, Dick?"</p> + +<p>"I don't remember anything about it," replied Dick.</p> + +<p>Here the old woman of the severe countenance put her hand on Alice +Heath's shoulder and asked in her grating voice, making the girl +start—"Did you say his name is Fairfax?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Ha! Then I was right. Well, if he is a Fairfax—and he is—he couldn't +be honest if he tried. Here's a pretty kettle of fish."</p> + +<p>She looked so savage that poor Alice shrank back, saying nervously—"It +is not my fault, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Who said it was? And if I did say so, I should have told nothing but +the truth. Blabbing a thing out before every one, like a feather-gated +fool as you are."</p> + +<p>"That's just what I say too, Mrs. Thirlston, ma'am," said Spence. +"Where was the use of injuring the lad? And very likely vexing Miss +Harewood, for 'tis well-known she makes quite a pet of this girl, and +the lad has been very correct in his conduct since he came here."</p> + +<p>"Correct in his conduct!" the old woman repeated, eyeing Mr. Spence +with strong disfavour. "My good patience! What fools men are!"</p> + +<p>And she stalked away, leaving Spence rather crushed.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>But the groom very properly told Mr. Harewood all that had passed, next +morning.</p> + +<p>And Mr. Harewood went to Spence's shop and heard Alice Heath's story +for himself. He was a hot-tempered man; and when he was convinced that +he had allowed Pearl to make a favourite of "such a young ruffian as +this Ben," he was extremely angry; all the more angry because he felt +that he ought to have made more searching inquiries before he allowed +his daughter to befriend him. Home he went in gathering wrath, and +rushed into the dining-room, where the ladies sat at luncheon.</p> + +<p>"Why, Tom! I had given you up, my dear. What is the matter?" said Mrs. +Harewood.</p> + +<p>"Matter, my dear! Matter enough, I assure you. Here's a pretty +discovery I've made. That young rascal, Ben Robson—his name is not +Robson, by the way—he's a regular young scamp, a thief and a liar, +and—and everything else that's bad. A pair of young impostors."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Papa, there must be some mistake. Fan is such a good little thing. +Now, is she not, Miss Ayrton? And Ben is so steady and clever. Uncle +Frank says—"</p> + +<p>"Clever, my dear? Not a doubt of that. Too clever by half. But I'll +tell you all about it, and then you'll see that they must be sent about +their business."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Papa!"</p> + +<p>"Pearl, my dear, do not speak just now. Let us hear the story, Tom. The +boy may be able to explain matters, you know. I am sure you won't do +anything in a hurry."</p> + +<p>Which was exactly what Mr. Harewood, left to himself, would have done. +However, he told the story at length, and even quiet Mrs. Harewood +shook her head over it. Pearl's pretty brown eyes grew so round with +horror and dismay that there really seemed to be some danger that she +might never be able to close them again.</p> + +<p>Miss Ayrton said quietly—</p> + +<p>"Is it not possible that the girl may know nothing of all this? I +should be sorry to have to think badly of Fan. She seems to me so +particularly innocent and conscientious."</p> + +<p>"All acting, believe me," said the Squire testily.</p> + +<p>"Well, but, Tom dear, you know you won't condemn either of them +unheard, nor punish the girl if she is really innocent. Don't look so +grievous, Pearlie; Papa never did an unjust thing in his life. Send for +Ben, and for the girl too, and let us hear what they have to say."</p> + +<p>Messengers were sent off, and Mr. Harewood cooled down sufficiently to +eat some luncheon.</p> + +<p>While he was thus engaged, a servant came to tell him that "old Mrs. +Thirlston wanted to speak to him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Harewood groaned.</p> + +<p>"She's in the study, I suppose. All right; I will go to her. Come with +me, Anna. I cannot face granny Thirlston alone: she makes me feel as if +I had eaten a sour apple!"</p> + +<p>"Mamma," whispered Pearl, "may I come too, that I may hear what Ben +says? I will be very quiet."</p> + +<p>"You may come, then. But remember, my dear, you are not to interfere. +Will you come too, Miss Ayrton?"</p> + +<p>So they all three went to the study. As they entered, Mr. Harewood was +saying—</p> + +<p>"It is no trouble, Mrs. Thirlston. I am always—glad to be of use."</p> + +<p>He could not say "glad to see you," as he had intended. Indeed, any one +who was glad to see Mrs. Thirlston must have had a peculiar taste.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, sir, it is but seldom, I may say, that I trouble you. I never +was one for pushing myself forward. I know my place, and I know my +claims, but I never push them. I came just to ask you a question, and +I'm sure you'll excuse it. Do you know anything about that lad Robson, +that you have taken into the stables?"</p> + +<p>"Why, surely, Mrs. Thirlston, he has not robbed you? Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Because, sir, I was told yesterday as how his name is not Robson, +but—Fairfax." She dropped her voice a little as she said the last word. +"And the girl's face has puzzled me from the first. She has a likeness, +sir,—there's no denying it."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" Mr. Harewood uttered a low whistle. "How stupid of me! The name +never struck me. You are right, though; the girl is like your poor +daughter."</p> + +<p>"No daughter of mine, sir."</p> + +<p>"Nay, Mrs. Thirlston, you can't help yourself. Fanny was your daughter, +poor soul! and a good girl, too, though a silly one, in that one act. +Poor Fanny! The lad has a look of her, too. I never could remember who +it was that they reminded me of. Here they come! I had sent for them, +for I heard the story from the girl at Spence's this morning."</p> + +<p>Before I go any further, I must tell you that, in his agony of shame +and anger, Ben had told his sister the whole story of his misdoings at +the Lee farm. He had wanted to make his escape before Alice Heath had +time to publish the story any further, for he felt as if he could not +bear to meet the altered looks of those who had so kindly befriended +him, and whose good opinion he had begun to value highly.</p> + +<p>But Fan had some hope that Mr. Harewood would be merciful, and with +difficulty she coaxed him to remain quietly where he was.</p> + +<p>I do not know that he would have yielded but for a plan which came +into his head, by which he hoped to save her from another period of +wandering and privation. On the Monday morning he went to his work +as usual, and found that the story was already known in the stables; +and the contempt and avoidance of his companions roused his temper, +bringing back the old reckless, defiant mood once more.</p> + +<p>The brother and sister entered the room together. Ben looked flushed, +sulky, and defiant; Fan, anxious and frightened, her eyes going from +one face to the other as she made her little bob of a curtsey, a +ceremony which reminded Ben of his manners, and made him pull off his +cap with an attempt at a bow. He looked with interest at old Mrs. +Thirlston, who sat bolt upright and stared at him.</p> + +<p>"Do you know why I have sent for you?" said Mr. Harewood, seating +himself in a great easy chair and clearing his voice.</p> + +<p>Ben nodded, but Fan answered softly—</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, I think we do."</p> + +<p>"Bold as brass," ejaculated Mrs. Thirlston.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, boy?" said Mr. Harewood, very desirous to make him +speak for himself.</p> + +<p>Ben cast a defiant glance at Mrs. Thirlston, and answered promptly—</p> + +<p>"Benjamin Thirlston Fairfax, sir. My poor mother named me for her +father, which was steward here years ago."</p> + +<p>"Then why did you call yourself Robson when I engaged you?"</p> + +<p>"I called myself Robson ever since I left where we lived until last +year; and I gave that name here, because I did not think Fairfax would +be forgotten, and it wouldn't have done us any good."</p> + +<p>"It would have done you no harm. It was very foolish of you to give a +false name. Why did you leave F—?"</p> + +<p>"Because," said Ben, in the same reckless way, "my father was in +trouble. It was the old story over again. He was took for poaching, +just as happened here before he was married; and Fan must have given +evidence against him because she 'd seen game in the house (though she +didn't know it was any harm). She 'd been ill, and it would have been +her death, for she had a kind of feeling against it, though father +never was good to her. I came home just at that time, and I stole her +away and took her to London."</p> + +<p>"And where had you been, sir, during that first absence from F—?"</p> + +<p>Ben laughed—such a reckless, unmirthful laugh, that Fan burst into +tears at the sound.</p> + +<p>"You know all about it, sir. I was at farmer Heath's, and I left him +to see after Fan; and I stole the child's frock; and I smoked in the +hayloft; and I robbed the garden; and I took Tom Digges's ten shillin', +and I did everything as ought not to be done. I don't deny nothing, +sir; it's all true. But I've not wronged you, nor any here. You'll not +believe me, though, so I'll say no more, only this—Fan is as innocent +as the babe unborn; as innocent as Miss Pearl yonder, and it's the more +credit to her, for she's never seen much good example, and it's not +easy to be good when you're reared as we was. But Fan went to Sunday +school, and always took to good ways—and she's 'your' grandchild, Mrs. +Thirlston! She's your only daughter's child, and she never had but +the two of us, and died when Fan was a baby. My father married again, +and got one more fit for him. But you look at Fan and you'll see for +yourself whose child she is—for she's the image of my mother, and you +can't deny it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ben!" exclaimed the girl, who had listened to this speech as if +spell-bound. "Was poor Mother not my mother really?"</p> + +<p>"Not she. Your mother was Fanny Thirlston, the daughter of that old +woman yonder, that made believe to set the dogs on us when we first +came here."</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad," Fan said to herself. "I'm sure my own mother loved me."</p> + +<p>"What has become of your father?" asked Mr. Harewood.</p> + +<p>"He's dead, sir. He got off for want of evidence against him, and then +he took ill and died. There's the letter I got, telling me of it," and +he laid on the table a dirty scrap of newspaper, containing the account +of the trial of the poachers, and Fairfax's acquittal, which Mrs. +Simmonds had sent him in the letter, which he also produced.</p> + +<p>"These papers certainly confirm your story," remarked Mr. Harewood, +who, kindhearted man, by this time only wanted an excuse for forgiving +Ben, and giving him another trial.</p> + +<p>"It don't need no confirming, sir. I ain't asking anything for myself, +and it's not likely any one would tell such a story of himself and his +father if it wasn't true; nor 'then,' if he could help himself. I know +you'll never trust me, and I don't deserve it. But if Mrs. Thirlston +will give poor Fan house-room, and keep her till I come for her, I'd go +away at once—and I'd 'never' trouble any one here any more—I swear it," +with a meaning look at the old woman.</p> + +<p>"He means, he 'd never come back!" cried Fan, springing to Ben's side, +and holding fast by his arm. "I won't be left, Ben! Where you go, I'll +go. You wouldn't have the heart. Ben—you couldn't do it! I'd break my +heart. I wouldn't stay without you."</p> + +<p>"There must be some good in the fellow," said Mr. Harewood to his wife, +in rather a husky voice.</p> + +<p>Ben was ready to cry, but he looked at Mrs. Thirlston inquiringly, and +she nodded her head, to intimate that she would befriend Fan. And in +the strength of his very love for the child, he determined to answer +her in such a way as should make her content to let him go. It was a +hard thing to do, but he remembered the weary, hungry, sickly little +creature, who had toiled so patiently after him in his wanderings, and +whatever might become of himself, he would secure comfort and plenty +for little Fan. So he shook her hands off roughly, and said—</p> + +<p>"I can't be bothered with ye, Fan; that's the plain truth of it. I can +do well for myself, if I haven't you to keep too."</p> + +<p>Fan looked up in his face—her eyes had a wild, unbelieving terror in +them that went to his heart, but he hardened his face, and frowned. +Without a word, the child fell at his feet as if he had killed her. +Miss Ayrton and Pearl ran to raise her, but Ben had lifted her in his +arms.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, my poor little darling! 'Twas hard to do—but you'll be +better off without a rascal like me."</p> + +<p>He put his sister into Miss Ayrton's arms as he spoke. For some minutes +all was confusion; it was difficult to bring Fan to life again, and +when she had become conscious, and there was time to look about, Ben +was nowhere to be seen. He was searched for in every direction, for Mr. +Harewood was fully determined to give him another trial. But this poor +Ben could not guess, and he was gone, however he contrived it.</p> + +<p>Fan sat on the ground, and shivered from head to foot, as she listened +to the cries of the searchers. She did not seem to hear what was said +to her, but looked so utterly miserable that at last Pearl, guessing +what was the worst part of the grief, sat down beside her and said—</p> + +<p>"Listen, Fan dear. You know Ben only said that to make you let him go. +And he took you in his arms, and said, 'God bless my little darling, +you'll be better without me;' and he kissed you 'so.' Fan, he loves you +dearly."</p> + +<p>Fan laid her weary head down on the young lady's dainty muslin, and +cried "till her heart was light," as the song says; or if not light, +much lighter, at all events.</p> + +<p>"He will surely come back to me, since I know he loves me," she said. +"And oh! Miss Pearl dear, I do love him so."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Thirlston arose from her seat, and made the following +proclamation, in her least gracious manner:</p> + +<p>"Well, sir and madam, if this child—and she's old enough to know +better—can leave off behaving like a baby and spoiling Miss Harewood's +beautiful blue muslin, which she ought to be ashamed for ever of making +so free, I have just a word to say to her."</p> + +<p>Poor Fan stood up, and tried to smile in a meek and conciliating +manner, but she only succeeded in making a queer little face, and it +was, perhaps, well for her that Mrs. Thirlston was looking at Mr. +Harewood, not at her.</p> + +<p>"It seems, sir, that this child 'is' my grandchild; there's no hope +that it's a lie?"</p> + +<p>"No 'fear' of that," Mrs. Harewood answered. "I think it is certainly +true."</p> + +<p>"Well, if she is, I suppose I must give her a chance of turning out +decent. I haven't a mite of hope that she will. I gave her mother every +advantage, and brought her up strict; and you know how that ended! But +as the boy is gone—I'll have nought to do with he—and as I've been +thinking lately of having a girl to do odd jobs—for I'm not so young as +I was, and the rheumatiz is powerful bad sometimes—I'll take the girl +home with me, and see if she'll go on steady. I don't expect it, but +I'll keep her humble, and I'll give her a chance."</p> + +<p>"Be kind to the child, Mrs. Thirlston," said the Squire, looking +pityingly at Fan.</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly, sir. I never rose my hand to her mother, and I won't to +her."</p> + +<p>"Papa," whispered Pearl, "don't let her go—keep Fan here. Dear Papa, +do! She'll be so wretched."</p> + +<p>Fan heard the whisper, and to Pearl's great surprise, she said +earnestly—</p> + +<p>"You are very good to me, Miss Pearl, but I'll go with her. You see, if +I don't, Ben won't know where to find me when he comes back. And I'll +be always watching for him."</p> + +<p>So Pearl let her go, promising to come often to see her. And Fairy +Cottage was deserted, for it was long before Pearl cared to play there +again.</p> + +<p>And as to Fan, she would walk all the way round through Comerton, +rather than pass the closed door of her dear little home.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image016" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image016.jpg" alt="image016"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>"ARE YOU THERE, BEN?"</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>IT was an easy matter for Ben, knowing the grounds as he did (thanks +to his love of watching the birds and beasts), to conceal himself from +his pursuers. He had jumped out through the open window, and though he +presently became aware that search was being made for him, and heard +his name called loudly, he did not choose to be found. He had no idea +that Mr. Harewood had relented, and the voices which called him did not +sound friendly, or he fancied so.</p> + +<p>When the search was given up, he stole back to the cottage, to secure +his clothes and a few shillings that he had saved. Very sad he felt as +he glanced round the small room where he and Fan had been so happy, and +which, between them, they kept in such beautiful order.</p> + +<p>But the softness passed away, and he told himself that now he was +free—free to go to London and do the best he could for himself. There, +he was sure of picking up odd jobs, and even of making friends who +would have no right to look down upon him. He had met with many such +acquaintances during the few weeks he had remained in London, and, in +his present reckless mood, the remembrance of that time seemed pleasant +to him.</p> + +<p>For Fan's sake he had resisted temptation, had worked hard and tried +to win a good character, but it was of no use. Do what he would, his +own and his father's sins would be remembered against him; and so, as +nothing better remained to him, he might as well give up, and have a +little fun if he could get it. London was the place for such as he, and +Ben set his face towards London, and tramped away sturdily until it was +quite dark.</p> + +<p>He was then entering a small town, so he looked out for a small inn, +or rather public-house, and having had some supper, went to bed in a +room which contained several beds, all of them engaged for that night. +Before he slept, he had quite made up his mind.</p> + +<p>Yes—he would go to London. There was no use in trying to be honest and +good: he had tried, and was beginning to like it, and here was the end +of it. He would buy a wheelbarrow and a load of fruit, and begin life +as a costermonger—forget Fan, make friends, and lead a jolly life. He +had money enough to travel by rail the rest of the way, and to set +himself up in trade afterwards, and he would follow his new calling +until something better turned up.</p> + +<p>But Ben—poor Fan's own dear Bennie—was not left to himself to go to +ruin, as in London he would but too surely have gone! He met with what +he considered a great misfortune that night. He was robbed during +his sleep (probably by one of the other lodgers) of all his money, +and a good many articles of clothing. He made a great outcry, and +the landlord, a big, truculent-looking fellow, either believed, or +pretended to believe, that he had never had any money, and was only +making this fuss to deceive him; and showing him a big stick, he +promised him a sound drubbing if he did not at once depart.</p> + +<p>"Taking away the character of my honest house—coming here without a +copper, and sleeping in a bed fit for a lord—eating and drinking of the +best, and then saying you are robbed! Just turn out, you young gallows +bird."</p> + +<p>"I shall go straight to the police," cried the angry Ben.</p> + +<p>"If you do, I'll give you in charge for your expenses. But you won't, +my boy. You're the kind of lad that isn't fond of the police, though I +dare say the police is fond of you sometimes. Well—you go to 'em—the +station is round the corner there."</p> + +<p>Ben did not go to the police, however. When his wrath subsided, he +thought better of that determination. So his money was gone; and now if +he went to London, he would reach it penniless, and must even beg his +bread along the road. Any way of life was better than that.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Two days later, as he was entering another town, Ben fell in with +a travelling circus. The tent was pitched on a green place by the +road's side, and as he lingered to have a look at it, he heard some +men, who were lounging about, say that one of the grooms had just +met with an accident, and been carried to the hospital in the town. +Ben conjectured, shrewdly enough, that the circus was so small that +the loss of one groom was likely to be a serious inconvenience to +the company, so he boldly entered the tent, and spoke to the first +person he met—a magnificent youth in tight flesh-coloured garments and +spangles, with a gold fillet tied round a shock head of red hair. The +morning performance was but just over, and this gay young gentleman had +not yet changed his attire, as the "Celebrated Boneless Boy."</p> + +<p>"If you please," said Ben, "does not your master want a groom?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask?" inquired the boneless one, with a grin. "You look too +respectable a card for our shop."</p> + +<p>No compliment ever gave Ben such unqualified pleasure as this remark, +which the "Boneless Boy" intended as a disparaging one.</p> + +<p>"I'm down on my luck all the same," Ben remarked; "and I'm well used to +horses."</p> + +<p>"Oh, jolly!" cried the bespangled youth.</p> + +<p>And to Ben's great admiration, he forthwith proceeded to tie his legs +round his neck, and hop on his hands round his new acquaintance, by way +of expressing his feelings.</p> + +<p>"Oh, jolly! If no one turned up, I'd have to turn groom myself, for +I'm the youngest apprentice. And oh, my eye, don't the 'White Horse of +the Boundless Prairies,' watch his opportunity to give you a bite, and +don't the 'Wild Irish Girl' kick like a good one? And when a fellow has +two performances in the day, as 'Boneless Boy,' that's enough for him, +without grooming the horses between times! Come along, and I'll take +you to our governor."</p> + +<p>Ben followed him into a wooden stable behind the tent, where they +found several people more or less bespangled, standing about, while a +stout, middle-aged man, with a good-natured face, was listening to the +surviving groom, who was assuring him that "without 'elp he never could +'ope to send the 'orses into the hairear looking as his 'art could wish +to see them."</p> + +<p>"Jack, my poor boy," said Mr. Algernon Percy Wilbraham (which was +the name of the proprietor of the circus, if the bills were to be +believed), "you must just dress as fast as you can, and help Jem, until +I get some one in Bob's place—stupid lad to let the mare break his leg +when he ought to have been up to her ways by this time. But who's this, +Jack?"</p> + +<p>"Your new groom, I hope, sir," replied Jack with a grin. "He says he's +handy about horses, and wants a job."</p> + +<p>The bargain was soon made, for Mr. Algernon Percy Wilbraham wanted a +groom very much, and Ben was in no condition to haggle for wages. And +in ten minutes, he was hard at work rubbing down the "White Horse of +the Boundless Prairies," a patient and Roman-nosed steed, and even +assisting in making the animal deserve it's name by carefully whitening +over a couple of dark patches on his sides.</p> + +<p>Mr. Algernon Percy Wilbraham soon perceived that he had hired a clever +groom, and the "Boneless Boy" became quite attached to his new friend.</p> + +<p>From town to town they wandered, and the life was one which Ben would +have thought very pleasant, once upon a time. The circus people were +not bad folk in their way; they were tolerably honest, and drinking was +out of the question, as it would have rendered them unfit for their +business. Gambling was in fashion among them, but not to any great +extent. Ben became rather a favourite with his master, as he proved to +have quite a genius for teaching horses and dogs new tricks, and every +one was pleasant to him.</p> + +<p>Altogether, he thought he ought to be happy, but, as a matter of fact, +he was very much the reverse. Once the life would have suited him, but +he was changed now. Mind and heart had been awakened, and he could +not lull them to sleep again. He missed his pleasant studies; there +was no time for reading now, and no books to read. Church-going was +impossible, as they were generally travelling on Sunday, and, to his +own surprise, Ben missed the quiet Sunday and the hours spent in church.</p> + +<p>And then the thought of little Fan! The little white face as he saw it +last; the pitiful cry "you couldn't have the heart to leave me;" the +look she gave him when he shook her hand off so roughly! He could not +rest for thinking of little Fan. Suppose the old woman beat her? She +looked as if she could. Suppose the child pined away and died for want +of kindness? Suppose, too, that Fan could see him now, and know what a +godless, thankless life he was leading; how the oaths and light jests +of his companions, though they had annoyed him when he was fresh from +his happy, quiet home with her, were so familiar now that he found +himself using them frequently; what would she feel if she knew all +this? Ah, little Fan, watching and weeping for your wilful brother, you +little knew how the silken thread of love was drawing him, slowly, but +surely back to you once more.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Fan was miserably unhappy in her grandmother's trim and pretty cottage +at first. Mrs. Thirlston, in her laudable desire to "keep her humble," +seldom allowed a day to pass without telling her that her mother had +been a thankless fool, and her father a worthless rogue; that she was +in a fair way to take after her mother, while Ben had already taken +after his father, and gone to the bad. Fan seldom answered, but she +lost heart, and instead of trying to please her grandmother, she just +did what she was desired to do, and kept away from her as much as she +could, which vexed the old woman and made her crosser than before.</p> + +<p>At first the child was really frightened, remembering how her +stepmother used to knock her about, but she soon found out that Mrs. +Thirlston used no weapon but her tongue. But as time went on, it became +more difficult to bear with the said tongue. It would be hard to say +how the old woman expected the child to grow fond of her, but she did +expect it, and was angry and disappointed because she did not do so. +Much talk about ingratitude was now added to her constant scoldings, +but Fan was getting hardened to it all, and did not care. It was bad +for the child in every way, and Pearl, who came constantly to see her, +did not find her little favourite improved, though she could not have +said what was wrong.</p> + +<p>Time passed very slowly for Fan, but somehow the winter wore away at +last, and summer was nearly over too, when the following conversation +passed between Fan and Miss Pearl, who had come to pay her a visit.</p> + +<p>"Fan, do you know that uncle Frank is here again?"</p> + +<p>Fan sighed. Mr. Sydney had been very kind to Ben.</p> + +<p>"Is he, miss? I didn't know it."</p> + +<p>"And I was telling him about Ben, and he is so sorry. And he has made +such a lovely plan, and he says I may tell you. You know, don't you? +that he is very clever and learned, and that he writes books about +birds, and beasts, and things."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Pearl; you lent Ben a book of his when we were living—"</p> + +<p>"In the cottage," she meant to say, but her voice died away.</p> + +<p>"Speak up, Frances," said Mrs. Thirlston, severely (she always called +her grandchild Frances); "don't be muttering under your breath when +Miss Harewood is so good as to speak to you."</p> + +<p>"I understand her quite well, thank you," answered Pearl, quietly. +"Well, Fan, uncle Frank is going to South America on one of his +exploring, collecting journeys, and he wants some one to go with him +as a servant, and to help. And he says Ben would be a treasure to him +because he likes that kind of thing, you know. And papa says that a +few years with uncle Frank, away from all temptation, and where no one +would know that he had ever—been foolish, would be so very good for +Ben. Uncle Frank will take him, if we can only find him in time. Has he +never written?"</p> + +<p>"No, never. He will not write. I think he'll come—he will want to see +how I am without any one knowing it. He'll come at night. I look-out +and call him every night before I go to bed."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you do, as I can testify; for most wearing it is," remarked +Mrs. Thirlston. "To say nothing of the chance of your letting in some +tramp that will murder us all, and rob the house. But under my roof +that young vagabone don't set 'his' foot. Mind that, Frances."</p> + +<p>"I would not bring him in," said Fan, "you need not fear, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Uncle Frank and Papa mean to put advertisements in the papers, in +hopes that Ben may see one of them; and they mean to try if the police +can find him. Uncle Frank bid me tell you that he likes Ben, and will +be a friend to him if—if—"</p> + +<p>"If what, Miss Pearl?"</p> + +<p>"If 'only' he has done nothing bad since he left us. But the only thing +they have found out yet, is that he went towards London, and they say +that if he went there, they would be very much afraid for him."</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss Pearl!"</p> + +<p>"It seems there are a great many very wicked people in London, who +would be glad to get Ben and teach him bad things."</p> + +<p>"Well, he wouldn't require teaching," remarked Mrs. Thirlston. "His +father's own son; that's what he is."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he would go to London?" asked Pearl, pretending not to +hear this speech.</p> + +<p>"Miss Pearl, I don't know 'where' he 'd go, but I don't think he would +go wrong—and I'm sure he'll come back. Oh, if we could only find him in +time! This would make him so happy."</p> + +<p>"You may be very thankful you can't lay hands on him, Frances. Mr. +Sydney doesn't know him as I do, or he 'd never run such a risk. That +boy 'd cut his throat and rob him as soon as look at him; and you may +tell Mr. Sydney as I say it, that's his grandmother to my sorrow."</p> + +<p>"Grandma!" said Fan, suddenly. "Say what you like to me, for I don't +care about it, but don't say things like that of Ben. He never hurt any +one in his life—and you know nothing about him. Are you going, Miss +Pearl? May I go a little bit of the way with you?"</p> + +<p>They went off together, leaving Mrs. Thirlston quite speechless with +wrath. But Pearl felt quite vexed, and as they walked along she said +gently—</p> + +<p>"Fan, do you think you ought to speak like that to Mrs. Thirlston? +She's very old, you know, and she is your grandmother."</p> + +<p>"Miss Pearl, I know I ought not. But indeed she does drive me so, with +her tongue, that I'm getting quite wicked. I never knew before how bad +I could be; poor mother used to beat me sometimes, but then she 'd let +me alone sometimes too, and I think I would rather be beaten than hear +grandma going on at me all day."</p> + +<p>"I wish you could leave her, Fan. I am sure it is not good for you."</p> + +<p>"No, miss—I am getting quite stupid like, but I can't leave till Ben +comes. I know he'll come, some time or other."</p> + +<p>The advertisements were printed, but Ben did not see them; and the +police searched for Ben both in London and in the towns which lay +between Comerton and London, but they did not find him. And time was +flying, the month fixed by Mr. Sydney for his departure came, and poor +Fan was almost in despair.</p> + +<p>Grandma was ill too, suffering cruelly from rheumatism, which did not +improve her temper, but quite the reverse. And I am sorry to say that +her bitter tongue had so disgusted Fan that at first she was not very +sorry for the old woman's sufferings.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>At last Mr. Sydney came to Harewood again, to say good-bye. He had not +filled up the place meant for Ben, as he had not been able to find any +one who seemed likely to suit him, but he hoped to get a servant in +America.</p> + +<p>Now, it happened that just at this time Ben and the circus arrived +at the little town where he had been robbed of his money. And, being +so near Fan, the longing to know whether she were well cared for and +contented, or pining and unhappy, became so strong that he could resist +no longer. If he found her well and happy, he would not speak to her, +nor do anything to unsettle her, but he must see for himself that it +was so. For if not, she would be better off with him, uncomfortable as +the wandering life would be to so shy and timid a creature.</p> + +<p>So one evening, having thoroughly finished his work, Ben went in search +of the "Boneless Boy," whom he found in the deserted arena, in a more +than commonly boneless condition, as he was practising a new attitude +of marvellous ugliness.</p> + +<p>"Jack," said Ben, after contemplating him for a minute, "if you 'could' +come straight, I'd find it easier to speak to you. This minute, I don't +know where your head is."</p> + +<p>Jack's limbs relaxed, and he tumbled down straight enough, and flat +enough too, on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Wot's up, matey?" said he.</p> + +<p>Ben explained that he wanted to go and see his sister who lived some +miles off. And he promised that if Jack would undertake his morning +work for him, he would return before the morning performance was over.</p> + +<p>The good-natured lad promised willingly.</p> + +<p>"But you never told me that you have a sister, Ben," said he.</p> + +<p>"She's only a child," Ben answered. "Where's the manager, Jack? I must +get his leave."</p> + +<p>Mr. Algernon Percy Wilbraham, whose intimate friends, for some unknown +reason, were wont to address him as Jerry Slaggs, gave his consent +willingly, and Ben set off on his long walk without further delay.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image017" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image017.jpg" alt="image017"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>THERE THE CHILD STOOD, LISTENING.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>By the time he reached the pretty cottage on the edge of the park, it +was very late, and as dark as a summer night ever is. It was so late +that he felt sure that Fan was in bed and asleep, but he thought he +would go up to the house and have a look at it before he sought out a +sheltered corner wherein to pass the night.</p> + +<p>To his surprise, there were lights in every room in the cottage, and he +could see people moving about, though he could not distinguish one from +another, as the blinds and curtains were partially drawn. After a few +moments, however, all the lights save one were extinguished.</p> + +<p>And then the hall door was softly opened, and some one came out and +stood on the little gravelled sweep. It was Fan, taking that "last +look," which her grandmother found so wearing! She did it almost +without hope now; yet she could not have gone to bed without doing +it. She was very late to-night, in consequence of her grandmother's +increased illness, which had obliged her to have a woman from the +village in to help.</p> + +<p>There the child stood, listening. And presently she called aloud—</p> + +<p>"Are you there, Ben? Oh, if you are, answer me."</p> + +<p>Ben, utterly amazed—for how should he know that this was a nightly +ceremony, and that Fan had not discovered that he was near?—moved a +step forward. And in another moment, Fan had her arms round his neck.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my darling! Oh, Ben, is it really you? Safe and well? Oh, Ben, I +was thinking you must be dead, or you'd have come to me."</p> + +<p>"It's me, no doubt, Fan, dear; though how you heard or saw me passes my +wits. Why, child, you've grown so tall! Come in and get a light, that I +may see you."</p> + +<p>"No, no; don't go into the house, Ben. Wait one moment. Oh, my heart is +jumping about so that there's a buzz in my head. Let me sit down on the +doorstep for a minute, Ben dear, I've so much to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Well, but come in; there's a great dew, and you'll get damp. Come in, +and we can have a talk."</p> + +<p>"No; grandma is always saying that I'm not to bring you into the house, +and one wouldn't like to do it now, just because she's in bed and +couldn't prevent it. I'll go and ask her, and if she says no, I'll go +up with you to the House. They want you there, Ben."</p> + +<p>She entered the house, and ran upstairs. Ben could hear the +conversation as he stood in the doorway, for the house was very small.</p> + +<p>"Grandma, Ben has come back at last," began Fan excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Has he? I don't believe you, you minx."</p> + +<p>"He has, indeed. May I bring him into the kitchen, and talk to him?"</p> + +<p>"Frances Fairfax! How often have I told you that that young vagabone +don't cross my threshold? 'Bring him in,' she says as cool as possible; +bring him in to rob and murder me in my bed. Now, Frances, here's my +last word. Go you down, tell Ben to go about his business, and shut the +door in his face, and bolt and lock it and look to the windows, or turn +out this minute and go with him, and go your own way, for I'll have +nothing more to do with you."</p> + +<p>"Very well, grandma; I'll go."</p> + +<p>"You'll go, and leave me to be cared for by that hussy, Sally Tibbs? +And this is your gratitude, when I took you in and fed and clothed you, +and done my best to teach you to be humble and keep you from ruin? +You'll go!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, grandma. You've never been kind to me; you never said a kind word +to me since you brought me here; and if you fed me, I worked for you, +and you must have had a servant if I hadn't been here. And I never +would have stayed, only I knew Ben would come here to look for me. So +now he has come, I'll go with him."</p> + +<p>"I was a fool to expect any better of your mother's daughter. Go, then. +But don't be sneaking back when he leaves you again, as he will. You +may go to the workhouse then, for all I care."</p> + +<p>"And I'd rather go there," said Fan, as she ran downstairs with her hat +and cloak in her hand. "Oh, Ben, did you hear her? Ain't she cross? +That's the way she goes on all day long, and all night too, when she +can't sleep."</p> + +<p>Ben made no answer. He could not have put his feeling into words, but +he was surprised, and—not exactly disappointed, but something like +it, to hear Fan answer the old woman so doggedly. But Fan was her old +loving self again in a moment, and he forgot his half-formed thoughts +very soon.</p> + +<p>"Now I'm ready. Sally Tibbs will see to grandma. Now, Ben, come to the +House, and as we go, I'll tell you why they want you."</p> + +<p>"But look here, Fan. I have no comfortable place to take you to. +Suppose that old cat won't have you back?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't go back to her. Miss Pearl will manage for me—I know she +will. Oh, Ben dear, living with grandma would make me wicked; you don't +know what she is. Why, Sally is the fourth woman we've had since she +got worse; and Sally will only stay till her week is up."</p> + +<p>"But, Fan—I don't want to go up to the House. I—I'm ashamed."</p> + +<p>"But only wait until I tell you why they want you."</p> + +<p>She stopped, and looking up in his face, anxiously trying to read his +history there by the dim starlight, she said less joyously—</p> + +<p>"Only first—tell me, Ben dear, where you've been, and what work you are +at."</p> + +<p>This Ben did, and again the child tripped on beside him with a heart as +light as her dancing feet.</p> + +<p>"How good he is!" she said. "And I was doubting him. I ought never to +doubt him again. Poor grandma! I'm a little sorry for her."</p> + +<p>"Why, child?"</p> + +<p>"Because I'm so happy. Here's the gate, Ben dear. Do you remember +the day you helped me over it, and we crept into the cottage, and I +went off asleep? I have never passed it since you went, but it's our +shortest way, so we'll climb over the gate. And now I'll tell you about +Mr. Sydney, and what he wants of you."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>The party at Harewood House were sitting together talking; and +Pearl was still up, because uncle Frank was going away so soon. The +solemn-looking butler came in with a deprecating air, and said—</p> + +<p>"Sir, that little girl of Mrs. Thirlston's, Fanny Fairfax, is at the +door and she would take no refusal, but I must tell Miss Harewood that +she want to speak to her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" cried Pearl. "I am sure she has found Ben."</p> + +<p>"Or Mrs. Thirlston has turned her out," said the Squire.</p> + +<p>"More likely the poor old woman is worse," said Mrs. Harewood.</p> + +<p>"I am sure it is Ben," Pearl repeated, as she ran out of the room. +And one glance at Fan's radiant face assured her that she had guessed +rightly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Fan, you've got him!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Pearl," Fan replied, speaking without any stops in the joy +of her heart, "and he's all right; he's been at honest work and kept +one place ever since he left me and he's in it still only he's behind +that big tree because he won't face the master until he knows you'll +befriend him."</p> + +<p>"Of course I will. Ben, come here at once!" Pearl cried.</p> + +<p>And if the butler did not have a fit when he saw Miss Harewood, with +tears of joy in her sweet brown eyes, lead the two Fairfaxes into the +drawing-room, I think he will never have one, for it was a trial to him.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, I was right. Uncle Frank, Ben's come back, and here he is. And +he's all right. Oh, Mamma, are you not glad?"</p> + +<p>Ben looked very sheepish, but the two gentlemen spoke so kindly to him +that he plucked up courage, and explained the nature of his present +employment, giving his master's name, and saying that he thought he +would give him a good character. Then Mr. Sydney asked him if Fan had +told him of the place offered him, and if he wished to accept it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, it would be the making of me! It would be the very thing of +all others that I'd like. But I must go back to my master, sir, until +he can get a groom, for it would not be fair to take him short like +this."</p> + +<p>"Quite right, Ben. I'll drive over to — to-morrow, and you can come +with me. We'll see what he says."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir. I know he'll speak well for me, for I've served him +honest. And I hope," Ben went on, getting fiery red, "that you and—and +every one—knows that I feel more than I can say. I'm sure I don't know +why you should be so kind, sir—unless it's for Fan's sake."</p> + +<p>"Fan is a good girl," said Mr. Harewood. "But I should try to befriend +you for your mother's sake, Ben. She was a great favourite with 'my' +mother, and I have always been very sorry for her. Is Fan to go home +to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Fan was turned out, sir, because she wouldn't shut the door in my +face."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well; some people never learn by experience. Fan must stay here +then, and when we see how your affairs are settled, we will arrange for +her. Anna, you had better tell Mrs. Turner to see after them both for +to-night."</p> + +<p>So the housekeeper was sent for, and the brother and sister remained +at the house that night. Fan was wonderfully happy; she thought it +odd that she was not perfectly happy, but she could not get her poor, +lonely, cross, old grandmother out of her head. Since the old woman's +illness had become serious, Fan had felt more kindly towards her until +that evening, when her abuse of Ben hardened her heart. And she knew +that Sally Tibbs would not fill her place well.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Next day, Mr. Sydney took Ben with him, and went off early to see Mr. +Algernon Percy Wilbraham, who gave Ben an excellent character, and was +very sorry to lose him, though he at once declared that he "wouldn't +stand in the lad's light." Mr. Sydney offered to pay a man to take +Ben's place for a time, as he wished to carry him off at once. This +made everything square, Mr. Wilbraham remarked, and Ben's bundle was +soon made ready for departure.</p> + +<p>The morning performance was going on, and the "Boneless Boy" was +summoned from the arena to bid his friend good-bye, a farewell which +cost the soft-hearted youth many tears. And he returned to his +performance with a countenance curiously spotted and streaked, in +consequence of his tears having partially washed away the paint with +which he was adorned. The audience rather liked it, however, as a +decided novelty.</p> + +<p>Fan's good-bye was a much sadder affair. With all her unselfish love, +she could not but feel very desolate when parting with Ben for a long +time—perhaps for years. Still she tried very hard to be cheerful, and +even to smile as she kissed him for the last time, so that he might not +have a melancholy recollection of her.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image018" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image018.jpg" alt="image018"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image019" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image019.jpg" alt="image019"> +</figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>HOW FAN SPUN A SECOND SILKEN THREAD.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>SO Ben sailed away to foreign lands, and Fan was left at Harewood +House, under the protection of Mrs. Harewood, who promised that she +should be well cared for during her brother's absence. Mrs. Harewood +was well pleased to have Fan under her charge, though she had thought +it rather a risk taking Ben abroad in the position of sole attendant on +Mr. Sydney.</p> + +<p>Miss Ayrton, in the kindest manner, offered to teach the child, giving +her regular daily lessons. But Fan had no particular love of learning, +and asked her if it was not enough for her to learn to read and write +well.</p> + +<p>"Well, Fan, what you say is not unreasonable," said Miss Ayrton.</p> + +<p>"Of course I'd like to read quite well, ma'am, and to be able to write +to Ben."</p> + +<p>"Yes; and for most girls in your rank of life, that and a little +arithmetic would be quite enough."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, miss," cried lazy Fan joyfully. "But not for you, Fan."</p> + +<p>"Not for me, Miss Ayrton! Please tell me why?"</p> + +<p>"Because, when your brother, who has a natural love of study, I think, +has been for three or four years travelling about alone with such a +man as Mr. Sydney, you will find, Fan, that he will come home very +different from the ignorant lad who left you. Merely hearing Mr. Sydney +talk about the various places they visit, and the beasts and plants +which they meet with, will teach him a great deal. But besides that, +I know that Mr. Sydney thinks him clever, and means to teach him many +things, so as to fit him for something better than a mere groom when he +comes home."</p> + +<p>"Ben will like that," said Fan.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but when Ben comes home and finds his sister just where he left +her—fit only for a servant—he will not like 'that,' I fear. He may be +just as fond of you, but he will have to seek other companions."</p> + +<p>"Miss Ayrton, I will learn whatever you will teach me," cried Fan +hurriedly.</p> + +<p>And she set to work diligently, making fair progress; for, though far +from clever, she was not deficient. Mrs. Thompson, the housekeeper, +gave her lessons too, and was very kind to her, in return for which Fan +thought no task too troublesome, and saved the old lady a good deal of +trotting about the house, by being a very handy messenger.</p> + +<p>Thus time passed very pleasantly, and Fan was surprised to find that +she could be so happy, parted from Ben. But then she had Miss Pearl, +which made a great difference. The Fairy Cottage was revisited now, +and many a merry game of play took place there. Once, Fan went up to +the cottage beyond the park to call on her grandmother, prompted by an +uneasy feeling that she had not done quite as she ought when living +there. The door was opened by a stranger.</p> + +<p>Sally Tibbs had found the place unbearable after Fan's departure, and +another woman had taken her place. A very disagreeable-looking woman +too, who looked at Fan with unfriendly eyes and asked what she wanted.</p> + +<p>"I'm Mrs. Thirlston's grandchild, please, and I want to know how she +is, and if she will see me."</p> + +<p>"I'll ask her," was the reply.</p> + +<p>And the woman shut the door leaving Fan outside. She went upstairs, and +Fan heard her grandmother's voice, raised in anger she thought. And +then the woman came down again and said—</p> + +<p>"You may go about your business, Frances Fairfax, there's no use in +coming fawning and pretending here, she'll never see your face again, +and you'll never be a penny the better of her."</p> + +<p>"I don't want anything from her," Fan said indignantly, as she turned +and walked off in great wrath.</p> + +<p>This occurred when Ben had been gone for about a fortnight, and Fan +thought no more of her grandmother for a long time.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>But one day in January—a cold and frosty day—Sally Tibbs came to +Harewood House and asked if the mistress could see her. Mrs. Harewood +came to her in the hall at once.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. Tibbs, I hope there is nothing the matter with you?" said +the lady, who doctored her neighbours occasionally with great success.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, but I'm as much obliged as if there was," said Sally in +an apologetic tone. "It is only that I've took on myself to tell you +summat, ma'am, as I think ought for to be known."</p> + +<p>"And what is that, Sally?"</p> + +<p>"It consarns that cantankerous old Mrs. Thirlston, ma'am. You see, +when I left her, soon after Fanny Fairfax went—and r'ally ma'am, flesh +and blood couldn't stand her tongue—Jane Jeffars, that's a widow like +myself, she got the place. And the remark in Comerton was, if you'll +excuse me, that if Sally Tibbs had to leave, how long would Jane +Jeffars, as is known to have a temper, stay there? But stay she has, +ma'am, ever since! and comes to Spence's (where I'm working) in Mrs. +Thirlston's handsome cloth cloak—and brags, she do, how the old lady +gives her presents and begs her not to leave her. I says to her, says +I, 'Jane, how do you make it out to stand her tongue?' And she makes +answer, 'I has her meek enough, Sally; she don't give me much tongue.'"</p> + +<p>"She must be very much changed then," remarked Mrs. Harewood.</p> + +<p>"My own idear, ma'am, if you'll believe it. And I thought, too, that +Jane would not have said that but for a glass she 'd had, and she +seemed vexed with herself, too. And I wondered could she be bullying +the old woman, and making a prey of her like. And at last I made up my +mind to go up to the cottage as if to pay a visit in a friendly way. +And Jane Jeffars, ma'am, she wouldn't let me inside the door! And don't +say as 'I' said it, but she wasn't sober, not to say quite. And by what +I saw through the windows, the house is in a shockin' state of dirt."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the poor old woman! She was always so neat and particular," said +Mrs. Harewood. "I am very much obliged to you, Sally. Mrs. Thirlston, +you know, was old Mrs. Harewood's maid for years, and her husband was a +servant here, too, so that Mr. Harewood would be terribly vexed if she +were neglected. I will see her myself this afternoon. I was so vexed +with her about Fan that I have not been there lately."</p> + +<p>"I thought you aught to be told, ma'am," remarked Sally, as with many +curtseys she withdrew.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harewood ordered the pony carriage to be ready immediately after +luncheon, and drove to the cottage. Mrs. Jeffars opened the door, and, +seeing who it was, she turned very red, and asked, in a constrained +tone, "What she was pleased to want?"</p> + +<p>"I have come to see Mrs. Thirlston," replied Mrs. Harewood.</p> + +<p>"I don't know that she can see you, ma'am. She's powerful bad, and I'm +making a great cleaning, too, and the place is all in a mess."</p> + +<p>"I think Mrs. Thirlston will be glad to see me; you need not go up to +ask her. Open the door wider, please. Yes, indeed, the place is in +a mess, as you say, but I do not see much token of a cleaning, Mrs. +Jeffars," remarked Mrs. Harewood, as she quietly put the woman aside +and walked upstairs and into the little bedroom.</p> + +<p>The stairs were extremely dirty, and at the top lay on the floor a +large tray in a very sloppy condition, filled with unwashed cups and +plates, mingled with scraps of bread. The once snug bedroom was in +the most untidy state, the bed linen soiled and crumpled, and the bed +all in confusion, while the poor old woman, with wide-open eyes and +frightened face, was watching the door eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Harewood! Oh, I'm so thankful you came in. I was so afraid, +madam, that she 'd send you away, as she did Frances and Sally Tibbs. +Oh, madam, look at the state I'm in! Me that was always so particular! +Me that kept myself as neat and nice as any lady in the land! I don't +mind her half starving me half so much as the dirt and mess."</p> + +<p>"Poor thing!" said Mrs. Harewood. "Yes, indeed, it must be a trial to +you. Sally told me that she feared you were not well treated, and so I +came to see for myself."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, madam, it was very good of you! If you'd be so kind as to turn +that drunken hussy out, madam, and get Sally or any decent body to come +to me. I shall soon be gone if I don't get proper food."</p> + +<p>"But Mrs. Thirlston, Sally left you because she could not stand the way +you scolded her."</p> + +<p>"If she 'd even come for a few days until I get my senses about me! Ah, +madam, it's an 'awsome' thing for an old woman like me to be left to +hired folk. Now, if Frances was here—but there, I suppose she wouldn't +come to me."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, Fan is very happy with us. She learns her lessons +regularly with Miss Ayrton, and housekeeping from Mrs. Turner, and +she's a great favourite with all of us. Everybody is kind to her. Why +should she leave it all to come back to you?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harewood was a woman who thought that a little plain speaking +sometimes did good, and I think she was quite right. But her kind heart +pricked her a little when she saw the pinched old face look so downcast.</p> + +<p>"No, madam, I couldn't expect it," Mrs. Thirlston said, with unexpected +humility. "I have a bad tongue, and it makes every one turn against me. +I used not to care, but somehow lately I feel different about it. I was +not good to Frances, I know."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harewood went downstairs, and said to Jane Jeffars in a quiet, +decided way which completely awed that unpleasant personage—</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Thirlston wishes you to leave the house at once. I will settle +with you when you are ready to go; and please remember that I shall +look into your box."</p> + +<p>Then she went to the door and called her groom.</p> + +<p>"Thomas, drive to the village and find Sally Tibbs if you can, and ask +her to come back with you. Say that I am here, and that I want to speak +to her. I think you will find her at Spence's; she was working there. +If she cannot come, perhaps your wife would, for to-night?"</p> + +<p>"She will surely, ma'am," said Thomas, driving off.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harewood found a chair, and having dusted it, sat down to await +Jane's departure.</p> + +<p>That good woman thought it very hard that she should not only lose +her place, but be forced by Mrs. Harewood's watchfulness to abandon +nearly all her "little pickin's" as she called them, and fill her box +merely with her own limited wardrobe. The comfortable cloth cloak she +particularly liked, but she did not dare to carry it off. She was paid +her week's wages and departed grumbling in a subdued voice. It would +not do to abuse Mrs. Harewood openly.</p> + +<p>On her way to the village she passed Sally, coming in triumph to +replace her. And if wishes could have caused an accident to the pony +carriage, Sally would scarcely have reached the cottage in safety. She +did get there safely, however, and promised to stay "as long as she +could."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harewood went up to tell the old woman what she had done, and to +bid her good-bye. She found her in a very subdued state of mind.</p> + +<p>"Tell Frances, madam, that I can't ask her to come back to me, but that +I'm in a very poor way indeed. And thank you, madam, for coming to see +after me; it was greater kindness than I deserve."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>On her way home Mrs. Harewood met her husband, and told him where +she had been, and all about the old woman. I am sorry to say that +the squire laughed heartily, and declared that "hunger was the only +way to tame anything; and that he did not despair now of curing old +Tearaway!"—a very vicious old farm horse, which was the terror of the +ploughman.</p> + +<p>In the evening Mrs. Harewood sent for Fan to her dressing-room, and +said to her—</p> + +<p>"Fan, I heard this morning from Sally Tibbs that your grandmother was +still very ill, and that Jane Jeffars was not treating her well. So I +went there to-day, to see if this were true; and I found the poor old +woman in a most miserable state. Jane drinks, it seems, and she had +the house in 'such' a condition—you would not know it; and your poor +grandmother half-starved, lying in such an untidy, soiled bed, so very +uncomfortable, for you know how nice she always kept things. I got +Sally to go back to her for a time, but the truth is that no one will +stay with her for money, though she is well off and pays well. As she +gets more helpless, she will be always falling into bad hands, and +being neglected and cheated. It is very sad to think of it."</p> + +<p>"'Indeed,' ma'am, I don't wonder people won't stay."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Harewood. "There is but one thing that could make any +one stay with her and care for her kindly; and that is—love."</p> + +<p>"No one could love grandma," said Fan, quickly.</p> + +<p>"She is not very loveable, indeed; and yet, you know, she is one of +those whom our Saviour loved well enough to die for. We think ourselves +much better than she is, but I think we must seem worse to Him than she +does to us, yet He loves us. But when I said that this was a duty which +could only be done for love, I did not mean for love of her, but for +the love of God."</p> + +<p>Fan looked earnestly at her mistress, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"That is the only right motive, Fan. You love Ben dearly, and would +do or bear anything for him. But do you love God enough to do a hard, +unpleasant duty for His sake, giving up a happy home to do it? I do not +bid you go, Fan. I will say nothing more to you, or to any one, about +it. But I think it is your duty. You are the only relation that poor +lonely suffering old woman has; and, child as you are, you could make +her comfortable, and perhaps win her love. I think Sally would stay if +you were there. Mrs. Thirlston bid me tell you that she cannot expect +you to go, but that she is in a very poor way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ma'am, how could I do it?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, it is a hard thing, Fan. I am very sorry myself—and you must +not decide in a hurry. Only think over what I have said, and try to +decide rightly."</p> + +<p>Fan crept away, feeling very miserable. At first it seemed to her +that she "could" not do this thing. Yet as she lay awake that night, +thinking it over, she knew that she ought to do it; and Fan was a very +conscientious little body. How much God had done for her, she thought; +and now, could she refuse to do this for the love of Him!</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Next morning, as the servants were leaving the room after prayers, Fan +went up to Mrs. Harewood and said—</p> + +<p>"If you please, ma'am, I will go to grandma."</p> + +<p>"And you will yet be very glad, my child, that you have decided to do +your duty rather than please yourself," said Mrs. Harewood, very kindly.</p> + +<p>But Pearl made great lamentation when she understood what was going on. +Still she felt that it was right, and did not try to dissuade Fan.</p> + +<p>"Now, I have only a word or two to say to you," Mrs. Harewood said, +when the child was ready to go. "Don't be content with doing your +duty in a hard, cold way. Try to pity your grandmother, and be gentle +with her, and cheerful. Think of what I said to you last night, and +remember, at any time you can come back to us; we shall always have a +place for you until Ben comes home."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am. I really will try, ma'am. I know that I never was +pleasant with her, when I was there before."</p> + +<p>"I shall come often to see you, Fan," said Pearl, "and so will Miss +Ayrton, and we will bring you books."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and Miss Ayrton has promised me to give me a lesson when she can +manage it, so that I may be getting on a little. Good-bye, Miss Pearl."</p> + +<p>And Fan screwed up her face, to keep herself from crying, in a manner +so comical that it was well that Pearl was rather tearfully inclined +too, or she must have laughed. On the road, Fan had her cry out in +comfort, and had succeeded in drying her poor eyes when she arrived at +the cottage.</p> + +<p>In the kitchen she found Sally, making vigorous search for the kitchen +utensils which used to hang round, so bright and lovely to behold, and +which had all been put to uses that they were not intended for, and +thrust into corners without being cleaned.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sally! What a mess the place is in!"</p> + +<p>"Well, now, if you'll believe 'me,' it's clean and nice to what it +was when I came yesterday. Why, the very floor was an inch thick with +black dirt, I do assure you. Pails and pails of water I've used on them +boards, but it will take several washings to bring 'em to a colour +again."</p> + +<p>"Who are you talking to, Sally Tibbs?" screamed a well-known harsh +voice from upstairs.</p> + +<p>"Hark to that! Ah, there's life left in the old lady yet," remarked +Sally, as Fan ran upstairs.</p> + +<p>"It's me, Grandma. I've come to nurse you if you'll let me."</p> + +<p>"Come to stay? To stay for good?" said Mrs. Thirlston sharply.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Grandma. I'll try to please you; 'indeed' I will."</p> + +<p>"Well, you are a good little thing," said the old woman. "I declare I +wish—"</p> + +<p>But what she wished, she did not say.</p> + +<p>Sally Tibbs consented to remain at the cottage, now that Fan was there, +to "come between her and the old woman's tongue." That tongue wagged +pretty freely still; and many a time Fan thought that she must give up +and go back to Miss Pearl.</p> + +<p>But Miss Pearl proved herself a real friend, and though always kind and +full of sympathy, she was always ready to strengthen Fan to do right, +rather than to give up in despair.</p> + +<p>And one Sunday morning, the rector preached a sermon on a very short +text, "Endure hardness," and Fan thought he must have made that sermon +on purpose for her; at all events, it helped her greatly. She made up +her mind not even to think of giving up, but to settle it with herself +that here was her proper place, and that she would stick to it.</p> + +<p>And to her great surprise, Mrs. Thirlston gradually began to scold +less; nay, she even praised her once or twice. She began to like +to hear the child read, too, and listened to the Bible with great +attention, taking also a keen interest in the stories with which Pearl +kept them supplied. How very glad Fan was that she could now read +fluently, for it passed many an otherwise trying hour.</p> + +<p>"I really think, Miss Pearl, that Granny is getting to like me," she +said one day.</p> + +<p>If she had only known the truth, the poor old woman could not bear her +to be out of her sight, and thought there never had been such a child +before. But if you spend eighty years of your life in making yourself +unpleasant, you will not find it easy to make yourself pleasant for the +years that remain, however much you may wish it. And constant pain and +failing powers are hard to bear, too; a fact which the young and strong +are apt to forget.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>All this time, Mr. Sydney wrote constantly to his sister, always giving +good accounts of Ben, who generally sent a letter for Fan in the same +cover. For a long time Mrs. Thirlston would not mention Ben, nor ask +any questions about his letters, though she was dying with curiosity +sometimes when she saw Fan laughing over them; for Ben told her of all +his strange adventures, and told them so well that Fan thought his +letters as good as any story book.</p> + +<p>But one day, when matters had gone on in this way for a very long time, +Mrs. Thirlston saw Fan crying over a letter which had just been sent up +from the house. She fidgeted about in her chair for some time, and at +last said, snappishly—</p> + +<p>"What are you crying for, Fan?" For it was Fan and Granny now, in these +better days.</p> + +<p>"Because I'm 'so' happy, Granny."</p> + +<p>"It's the act of a fool to cry because you're happy. All the same, +Fan—" (very crossly), "if you'd enjoy reading me what pleases you so +much, you may do it."</p> + +<p>She was longing to hear the letter, though her pride would not let her +say so.</p> + +<p>"It—it's from Ben!" said Fan, opening her eyes very wide.</p> + +<p>"Well? 'Twon't bite me, I suppose. Read it, child, if you like."</p> + +<p>Fan accordingly read a good deal of the letter, which made mention +of an illness which Mr. Sydney had just recovered from, and gave an +account of various strange things that they had seen; more particularly +of the flowers he had met with, which seemed to strike him more than +anything else. But there was nothing at all affecting in what she read, +and the keen old woman drew her own conclusion.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, child. It's a queer country, yon, with flowers that hang in +the air, flourishing their roots in your face like that. But which was +it, the purple one or the yellow, that you cried over?"</p> + +<p>"I did not read the bit that made me cry, Granny, but I will, if +you—will be kind about it."</p> + +<p>"Let's hear it," said Granny, shortly.</p> + +<p>And Fan read—</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "I have been saving my money (for Mr. Sydney pays me some monthly, +though not all my wages, as it would not be safe to carry much money +about with us, and besides, I do not want much, so he just gives me +enough to buy tobacco and such like) and I have been a long time now +without spending a penny, and I am sending my savings to you. Mr. +Sydney is to manage it for me, and Mr. Harewood will pay you the money. +And you must do this for me, Fan, if you can. Get Mrs. Heath's address +from Mrs. Spence, and send her two pounds eight shillings from me, for +Tom Digges, to pay him the ten shillings I stole from him, and the two +I owed him. That is fourfold, you know, like that small man in the +Bible, who climbed into a tree to see the Lord pass by, and I would +write his name only I forget how it is spelt, and I am too tired to +get my Bible to look. Also send her twelve shillings to pay the three +I owed at the shop, and you write her a nice letter and ask her to do +this for you, and say how sorry and ashamed I am of my conduct to her +and to farmer Heath, so bad and ungrateful that I do not like even to +write to her to ask forgiveness, but if you ask her, I think she will +forgive me, for she is so kind and soft-hearted.<br> +<br> + "Then, if you think Mrs. Spence would not take it ill, you buy a frock +for Etty, a real handsome one, blue, of course, and very nice, and +say something to Mrs. Spence for me. And pay old Mrs. Harris, that we +lodged with in London, one pound, because I went off that night without +paying our rent. And send Mrs. Simmonds one pound, just to show that we +remember how good she was to us that time, and put any you have left +in the poor-box, to be given away, for indeed, I wronged many that I +never can find out and pay. Dear Fan, I am so sorry when I think about +it, but Mr. Sydney says that when one really repents, one is surely +forgiven, but still I think I ought to make amends when I have the +power to do it. And it is a good punishment to me to think how I might +be sending you this money to buy some nice present for yourself, as I +should like to do, and will, when I have saved more."<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>Fan ceased reading, and looked nervously at her grandmother. But, to +her surprise, the old lady looked both pleased and softened.</p> + +<p>"You may make your mind easy about Ben," she said. "I'm no great judge, +'tis true, but I think that's the right kind of repentance. That boy +will do well yet, though he 'is' a Fairfax."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Granny, thank you!" cried Fan, melting into tears again.</p> + +<p>"For nothing, as the gallipot said," quoth the old lady tartly. "What +are you crying for, Fan? You'll never be anything but a soft little +fool."</p> + +<p>But it was in vain that she tried to be as cross as usual; her heart +was touched, and Fan knew it.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Later in the day the pony carriage from Harewood drove up to the little +gate, and Mrs. Harewood was seen coming up the walk. Fan rushed to the +door and opened it with a beaming countenance.</p> + +<p>"Well, Fan, I see you have had your letter. I desired Thomas to bring +it up early, as it was some time since we had heard. How do you do, +Mrs. Thirlston? I'm glad to see you looking so much better."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, madam. I'm no great things to boast of, indeed, but you're +always welcome, madam, and I'm proud to see you."</p> + +<p>The good woman was never known to confess herself better, or in any but +a very poor case.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harewood sat down, and Fan stood behind her grandmother's chair, +smiling broadly, she was so happy; for she knew somehow that Mrs. +Harewood was pleased about Ben, and meant to say so. And to hear Ben +praised—could life afford a greater joy than that?</p> + +<p>"Fan, you look so happy, that it is quite pleasant to see you. Yes, +child, I know why. But you don't know yet what cause you have for being +pleased; for I am sure Ben does not tell you what his master tells me. +Mrs. Thirlston, will you allow me to read to Fan a bit of my brother's +letter, or must I take her home with me to hear it? For it is about +Ben, you know."</p> + +<p>"Certingly, you can read what you like, madam," said Mrs. Thirlston +primly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ma'am, Granny let me read her Ben's own letter, and she was +pleased. Now you know you were, Granny, so there's no use in denying +it."</p> + +<p>"I don't deny it, Frances. I 'will' say I like the boy's letter, and I +begin to hope he won't come to the gallows after all."</p> + +<p>"That was about the money, I suppose? Mr. Harewood will give it to you, +Fan, any day you can come to the house, and I will help you to arrange +everything as Ben directs. But now I must read you this, you will not +wonder that 'I' think more of it than of his sending the money.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +<br> + "'MY DEAR SISTER,<br> +<br> + "'I suppose you are wondering where I am, and what I am doing, that I +have been so long without writing. That I am alive and well is mainly +owing to that very Ben Fairfax whom you were hardly willing to let +me bring with me. I have been very ill, a sharp attack of fever, and +we were in an out of the way Indian village, with none but Indians +near. Before I became delirious, I told Ben what to give me and how to +manage, and he nursed me day and night, with a tenderness and devotion +that could not be surpassed. I could not have got through it, I think, +but for his care. Poor Ben! He is as thin as a threadpaper, between +watching and anxiety, but he is quite well, and is a treasure to me in +every way. He is a clever lad, too, and learns all that I can teach +him, but botany is his favourite study, and he says that some day, +when he has laid by a little money, he will set up as a florist and +seedsman, and have Fan to keep house for him.'<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p>"Then he goes on to tell me about the money, and that Ben has denied +himself every little luxury to save it. Well, Fan! What do you say to +this?"</p> + +<p>"She'll cry pints, madam. That's Fan's way of being happy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Granny, I can't help it! Oh, my dear Ben—But I always knew he 'd +come right."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>Fan went to Harewood the next day to get Ben's money, which she +disposed of according to his wish. Mrs. Harewood took that opportunity +to ask her if she still felt so miserable at her grandmother's.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, ma'am! I don't mean that I was not happier here, where every +one was so good to me, but poor Granny couldn't do without me, and she +really is kind, though one wouldn't know it from her manner."</p> + +<p>"You are not sorry, then, that you went to her?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, ma'am. You were quite right when you said I never should +be sorry. Besides, I know now that when I was with her before, it was +partly my own fault that I was so unhappy. I never tried to like her, +though she did so much for me—but just was silent and sulky. She's +quite different to me now."</p> + +<p>"I see a great change in her, too; I think she is much softened, and +she is certainly very fond of you."</p> + +<p>"I think so, ma'am. She speaks sharp and gruff, but I think it is only +habit, like."</p> + +<p>This was quite true. Mrs. Thirlston had become very fond of her +grandchild, and very dependent upon her; but to save her life, she +could not have spoken pleasantly and kindly. Yet kind words are as +cheap as sharp ones; and what a pity it seems that any one should +acquire a habit of speaking crossly! A little self-control when young +would quite prevent it; but once get the habit, and it will stick to +you through life.</p> + +<p>So Fan went home to her poor old Granny, and nursed her tenderly +through the last two years of her life. The poor old woman became quite +helpless, and Fan's life was very laborious, but she was happy in spite +of all drawbacks. Ben sent her many a present which brightened her home +in various ways, but chiefly because they told her that the brother she +loved so dearly had not forgotten her.</p> + +<p>Once, a sailor, whose mother lived in Comerford, brought her a little +cage with a most beautiful bird in it which Ben had caught and tamed +for her, and had sent home by this man. The bird had a blue head, and a +green back, and a flame-coloured breast—no one in those parts had ever +seen the like, and it was greatly admired. It had big eyes (big for +so small a bird, I mean) and a very gentle look, and it soon became a +great darling with Fan.</p> + +<p>The sailor told her that it liked no food so well as flies; and any one +would have laughed to see the struggle between Fan's love for Dick, +and her soft-hearted dislike to catch the poor flies. But at last she +bethought herself of a compromise, which worked very well. When the +sunny window of the kitchen was full of flies, she would close the door +and windows and let Dick come out of his cage, when Dick caught plenty +of flies for himself, and looked so beautiful, fluttering up the panes +of glass in the sun, or darting into the middle of the room after a +retreating fly, that even pity for the victims could not keep Fan from +watching the proceeding closely.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>At last Mrs. Thirlston grew very weak, and it became plain that her +days were numbered. The kind rector came to see her often, and Mrs. +Harewood also; she was quite aware that she was dying, and often spoke +of it.</p> + +<p>One day she sent for the rector, and sent Fan away while he was +with her. Sally Tibbs was called to the room after a time, and soon +afterwards the rector went away, and Fan ran upstairs to see if Granny +were very tired. She found the old woman lying very quiet, with a +folded paper in her poor stiffened hand.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Fan. This here paper is my last will and testament, my +dear. And now I'm going to tell you what I've ordered to be done with +my money. When you first came back to me after Ben went to 'Merica, I +made my last will and testament—leastways, I meant it for such, but +I've lived to change my mind. I've been a saving woman, Fan, and your +grandfather he were a saving man. I've got nigh upon a thousand pounds +to leave behind me, Fan."</p> + +<p>"A thousand pounds, Granny!" exclaimed Fan, who found it hard to +imagine the existence of such a sum.</p> + +<p>"Just so, Fan—don't interrupt me again, unless you've got something to +say. It's the act of a fool to be exclaiming, and repeating of one's +words like a parrot. Well, that will I speak of left all this to you, +on conditions that you never gave nor lent a penny to Ben."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall never have it, Granny!" cried Fan, indignantly. "I would +rather starve."</p> + +<p>"I know that, child. And I've changed my mind, as I mentioned before, +if you would only attend, instead of prating like that. I've made +another will this blessed day; Mr. Manvers wrote it for me, and he and +Sally Tibbs witnessed it."</p> + +<p>"And you've given it all to Ben!" exclaimed Fan, joyously. "Oh, I'm so +glad, Granny. Ben will always take care of me."</p> + +<p>"Fan, you'll never have an ounce of sense, no more than that painted +Dick you make so much of! No, I have 'not' left it all to Ben. I've +done the best thing for the two of ye, and the rector says to me before +he left, 'you've made a most prudent and discreet will, Mrs. Thirlston, +and now I hope you'll put the matter off your mind,' and so I will when +I've told you about it. I've left five hundred pounds to you, Fan, +to be your own, and not to be touched by any one else. And I've left +all the rest to Ben, to be spent for him in buying the goodwill of a +nursery-garden, and all things connected with that trade, and setting +him up in life—for he said in one letter, you know, that such was his +wishes. And you may tell Ben, child, that I would be glad if I could +have seen him—and I wish him well with all my heart."</p> + +<p>"Granny, you are very kind—I do feel quite happy for Ben, for I know +how happy this will make him. Dear Granny, I hope it won't be for a +long time yet," Fan whispered, as she stooped to kiss the withered +cheek.</p> + +<p>"It will be soon now, Fan. But as long as you live, Fan, you'll be glad +to mind how you nursed the poor, cross old Gran—and softened her heart +too, so that the light of God's love could get into it. God bless you, +Fan—you've been a dear good child to me."</p> + +<p>In a few days after this, Mrs. Thirlston died quite suddenly, passing +away in her sleep; and Fan, who had once both feared and disliked her, +mourned for her most sincerely. Fan went back to Harewood, to await +Ben's return, and she worked very hard with Miss Ayrton, that he might +not find her a dunce.</p> + +<p>At last Ben came home, and a fine tall man he had become, and with +such a character from Mr. Sydney, too. He soon bought a flourishing +business in the line he had chosen, and he and Fan live together, +very prosperously and happily. I hope that Fan will live to spin many +another silken thread of love yet; and that those who read her history +may remember that love is the best, if not the only, way of influencing +others for good.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image020" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image020.jpg" alt="image020"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +————————————————————————————<br> +PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED.<br> +LONDON AND BECCLES.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77248 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/77248-h/images/image001.jpg b/77248-h/images/image001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d9c623 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image001.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image002.jpg b/77248-h/images/image002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4b6081 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image002.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image003.jpg b/77248-h/images/image003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b0cb8aa --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image003.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image004.jpg b/77248-h/images/image004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..52eff37 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image004.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image005.jpg b/77248-h/images/image005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3965e91 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image005.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image006.jpg b/77248-h/images/image006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..aec6661 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image006.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image007.jpg b/77248-h/images/image007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a6a366 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image007.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image008.jpg b/77248-h/images/image008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a79acb4 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image008.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image009.jpg b/77248-h/images/image009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..efcbb13 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image009.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image010.jpg b/77248-h/images/image010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..790f577 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image010.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image011.jpg b/77248-h/images/image011.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..617392d --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image011.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image012.jpg b/77248-h/images/image012.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db7e707 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image012.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image013.jpg b/77248-h/images/image013.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..226016d --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image013.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image014.jpg b/77248-h/images/image014.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2d1a7cd --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image014.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image015.jpg b/77248-h/images/image015.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f0c9898 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image015.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image016.jpg b/77248-h/images/image016.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2aba71b --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image016.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image017.jpg b/77248-h/images/image017.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a83384 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image017.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image018.jpg b/77248-h/images/image018.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd8dd07 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image018.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image019.jpg b/77248-h/images/image019.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2bbe4d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image019.jpg diff --git a/77248-h/images/image020.jpg b/77248-h/images/image020.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb2bee7 --- /dev/null +++ b/77248-h/images/image020.jpg |
