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"How did the Election go?"

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"Ho, ?un't you?Come on, you puppy-dog, and see fur yourself if you need t?ake pity on my old age."Shouts and gunshots brought those men who slept out in the cottages, and a half-dressed gang, old Reuben at the head, pounded through the misty hay-sweet night to where the flames were spreading in the sky. From the shoulder of Boarzell they could see what was burningRealf's new-made stacks, two already aflame, the others doomed by the sparks which scattered on the wind. Colour Background Image Background
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ONE:"Not much, 'squire.Stephen Holgrave, indeed, has got married, and, I'll warrant me, there will be a fine to do about it; for he has married a nief, and you know my lord is very particular about these matters:he told me, no longer ago than just before he went away this last time, that he would not abate a jot of his due, in the marriages or services of his bond-folk. To be sure the lass is sister of the monk who now shrieves the castle, and, as my lord thinks much of Holgrave, it may all blow over."

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ONE:Margaret ceased to speak, and her tears dropped fast on the little innocent she was so anxiously watching; presently it gave a faint sigh, and the mother's agonizing shriek, told her husband that the breath was its last. Holgrave had beheld in silence the death-pang of his child; and now, when the cry of the mother announced that it had ceased to be, he turned from the bed and rushed to the door without uttering a word.
ONE:He received his father very kindly, giving him a seat close to the table so that he might have a refuge for his cup and saucer, and introducing him to a gentleman who, he said, was writing a book on Sussex commons and anxious for information about Boarzell.
  • THREE: THREE:"I'm going to fetch a parson," said Pete.

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  • THREE:There was naturally a party who championed Manor rightsSir John Bardon was a good landlord, and would have been better had his budget cramped him less. Now he would sell Boarzell in building plots, and his tenants would reap the benefit. He had not inclosed the land for himself. More houses would mean more trade for shops and farms, Peasmarsh might flower into a country town.... THREE:This was what his forty years of struggle had brought him to. He saw himself in the midst of a huge [Pg 328]ambitious ruin. He had failed, his hopes were blightedwhat could he expect to pull out of this wreck. It would be far better and wiser if he gave up the dreary uncertain battle, and took the sure rest at hand. If he sold some of the more fruitful part of his land he would be able to divorce Rose, then he could marry Alice and live with her a quiet, shorn, unambitious life. No one would buy the new ground on Boarzell, but he could easily sell the low fields by the Glotten brook; that would leave him with twenty or thirty acres of fairly good land round the farm, and all his useless encroachments on Boarzell which he would allow to relapse into their former state. He would have enough to live upon, to support his children and his delicate wifehe would be able to take no risks and make no ventures, but he would be comfortable.Holgrave, conceiving that further resistance might awaken suspicion, folding his arms across his breast, suffered the men to ascend, and looked on in silence while they carefully examined the loft. But here, after a minute search, was found nothing to repay their trouble. They descended, and Calverley said, "There is nothing here to confirm suspicion; but the son of Edith Holgrave is likely to be suspected when evil is done. We depart," he said to his followers, "but there shall be a watch kept on this fellow."

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  • THREE: THREE:"Then you must have bin a valiant basher in your day. It's a pity you let yourself go slack."

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  • THREE:It was. He came knee-deep into the water with the horses, and, not seeing the women, plunged his head into the cool reed-sweetened stickle.In spite of his revived spirits he could not sleep, but he went up early to his room, for he wanted to think. During the evening the idea had gained on him that he could still have Alice if he wanted her, and with the idea had grown the sensation that he wanted her with all his heart. THREE:"O! swear, Roland! swear!" said Isabella, starting from her seat, and, forgetful of all save her own intense feelings, she clasped her hands on her husband's shoulder.His hair had been grey for years, and as he grew older it did not whiten, but stayed the colour of polished iron, straight, shining, and thick as a boy's. He had lost two back teeth, and made a tremendous fuss about them, saying it was all the fault of the dentist in Rye, who preferred a shilling extraction to a threepenny lotionbut the rest of his teeth were as good as ever, though at last a trifle discoloured by smoking.

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ONE:Chapter 4 THREE:He sat down beside her and took her hand."Does your son find his farm answer, dame?"
ONE:His ambition flared up like a damped furnace, and he suddenly saw himself a coward ever to have thought of rest. Boarzell was more to him than any woman in the world. For the sake of one weak woman he was not going to sacrifice all his hopes and dreams and enterprises, the great love of his life."And if my eyes do not mislead me," said De Boteler, looking searchingly on Tyler, "I know the graceless kerne."

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ONE:It seemed almost as if his luck had turned, for the harvests that year were exceedingly good. In most of his fields there were two hay-crops, while the oats and wheat yielded generously, even on Boarzell. As for the hops, he reaped a double triumph, for not only did his hop-gardens bring in more than the average to the acre, but almost everyone else in the neighbourhood did badly, so prices rose in a gratifying way.
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FORE:

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FORE:
ONE:"YesI slept for an hour. I think I'm better."
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ONE:"Wot d'you think of Grandturzel, Mus' Backfield?" someone asked waggishly.Their meetings were secret, from her family as well as his. But they were dignifiedthere was no scurrying like rabbits. Richard's work kept him mostly on the Flightshot borders of Odiam, and often the grave Anne would walk down to the hedge, and help him construe Tacitus or parse from Ovid. There was an old tree by the boundary fence, in the hollow of which she put new books for him to find, and into which he would return those he had finished. She was very careful to maintain[Pg 140] the right attitude towards him; he was always her humble servant, he never forgot to call her "ma'am."

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ONE:Then the conversation wandered from Reuben's successes to the price he had paid for them, which proved more interesting and more comforting to those assembled.
FORE:CHAPTER I"Of course it's a dreamf?ather ?un't dead, and I ?un't blind, and Ben's picking nuts over at Puddingcake." FORE:"Martin," he added to his page, "go you to one of the servitors in the court-yard, and tell him to accompany you to this John Byles; you know how to keep your counsel, and remember, that the Baron de Boteler commands John Byles and his wife to come instantly to the castle. Do you not, my lord?" FORE:Is the Colonel so poor or so graspingor what?"Hold, minion! Cease! or you will tempt me to hang the culprit from the battlements of yonder keep, if it were only to afford news to your master. Presumptuous shaveling! know you not that the royal franchise granted to this manor empowers me to sit in judgment on my vassals, and that it is only as an act of grace that she is handed over to a jury of the county." FORE:Chapter 23
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"Tush, tush!" interrupted the galleyman; "if Stephen Holgrave has forgotten Robin Wells, how should Thomas Calverley remember him?"Reuben too was appalled by them, but would not for worlds have shown it. He attacked the knives and forks with such vigour that he did not get really involved in them till the joint, and as he refused no drink the waiter offered he soon had all his glasses harmlessly occupied. Nor was he at a loss for conversation. He was resolved that neither Richard nor Anne should ignore the greatness of his farm; if only he could stir[Pg 392] up a spark of home-sickness in his son's white-shirted breast, his triumph would be complete.But David's death struck home. David and William were the only two children whom he had really loved. They were his hope, his future. Once again he tasted the agonies of bereaved fatherhood, with the added tincture of hopelessness. He would never again see David's brown, strong, merry face, hear his voice, build plans for him. For some days the paternal feeling was so strong that he craved for his boy quite apart from Odiam, just for himself. It had taken eighty years and his son's death to make a father of him.
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