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"You needn't go pitying him, nutherhe's a lousy Radical traitor. You do something to m?ake him sensible and out he goes."

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"What's the matter, my darling? Come to mother, little Miss Fanny. Oh, I know something's wrong with her, or she wouldn't cry so. She's got such a sweet temper really.""What a dear little creature!"
ONE:"Oh, I dunno. I just look at him like this with my eyes half shut. Then if that isn't enough I part my lipsso.""My lord, she may not survive the imprisonment." FORE:"Read it." FORE:He looked into her face, then suddenly crimsonedthen paled, to flush again:"You look charming!""how well your hat becomes you!""how small your feet seem in your new shoes!""how sweet you smell!"chorused[Pg 73] the girls, loving her more than ever because they envied her, after the manner of girls.
THREE:
THREE:But Harry's face was blank, no memories seemed to stir for him, he just fiddled on, now and then receiving Naomi's corrections with an outbreak of childish temper. On these occasions Reuben would stamp his foot and speak to him in a loud, angry voice which inevitably made him behave himself.The outcry brought Mrs. Backfield from the next room, Naomi shivering in her wake. Reuben was trying to hold Harry down in bed.

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THREE:"Fatherit's Albert!"

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THREE:Hitherto any verse that had been written in the controversy had been meant for street singing, and turned out in the less serious moments of politicians who certainly were not poets. But "MacDonald's Gate" impressed the multitude as something altogether different. The sounding periods and the number of capitals proclaimed it poetry of the very highest order, and its prominent position throughout the town soon resulted in the collection of excited groups all discussing the Scott's Float toll-gate, which nobody hitherto had thought much about.

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THREE:While Turner was thus declaiming, a singular looking being, who sat directly opposite to him, had risen, and, evidently quite unmoved by the vehemence of the smith's manner, and equally regardless of the matter of his speech, only awaited until a pause should enable him to commence his own. The man was about five feet two in height, with thick lips and a short turned-up nose, black, bushy brows, overhanging a pair of twinkling grey eyes, and a bald head, receding abruptly from the eyebrows, like those of the lower animals. The moment Turner ceased speaking, the man began, in a deep guttural voice
  • 199
    THREE:The transaction was prompt and satisfactory. Reuben[Pg 38] did not haggle over the price, and was careful to let the agent know of his eagerness to buy moreotherwise, he was afraid that the Squire might either give the land back to the people, pushed by his Liberal politics, or else part with it for a song to some speculator. So he paid really a bit more than the land was worth, and made the agent a confidant of his dreams.

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  • 399
    THREE:A few weeks later Richard wrote himself, breaking the silence of years. Success had made him feel more kindly towards his father. He forgave the frustrations and humiliations of his youth, and enquired after his brothers and sisters and the progress of the old farm. Anne Bardon had kept him fairly well posted in Backfield history, but though he knew of Reuben's unlucky marriage and of the foot-and-mouth catastrophe, he had evidently lost count of absconding sons, for he[Pg 336] seemed to think Pete had run away too, which Reuben considered an unjustifiable aspersion on his domestic order. However, the general tone of his letter was conciliatory, and his remarks on the cattle-plague "most pr?aper."

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THREE:"The g?ates up at Leasan and Mockbeggar, and then over the marsh to Thornsdale. It 'ud be a shame fur you to miss it, and m?aster can't t?ake you, since he's going to Cranbrook.""John Kirkby, the father is angry, and this is all one gets for one's pains. Now that the mitre waits for his head, he will not put it on;and did not that traitor Jack Straw often say the father wished for Sudbury's place; and though I hate bishops, I would not mind seeing him one. But, by St. Nicholas! he added fiercely, no more bishops for Wat Tylerand"
FORE:In the individual thus opportunely rescued, the reader will probably recognize Black Jack. He had been detected in a conspiracy, from which, had his character been already taintless, there would have been but little chance of escape. But as matters really stood, the slightest shadow of guilt would have been made to assume a form sufficiently tangible to convict him.Naomi slept too, huddled in a chair, every now and then a sob quivering through her. The winter dawn slowly crept in on her, showing her pitiful figureshowing Mrs. Backfield sick and puffy with tears, Reuben dry-eyed beside the bed, and Harry respited in sleep. Outside the crest of Boarzell was once more visible in the growing lightdark, lumpish, malevolent, against the kindling of the sky. FORE:For some obscure reason Caro did not like to see [Pg 284]herself credited with the harshness of inexperience. She did her best to assume an air of worldly toleration."D?an't talk nonsense. How can I sit here and see my land messed about by a fool, jest because he happens to have married my darter?and ag?unst my wish, too. I'm sorry fur you, Tilly, but you're still young enough to work. I'm eighty-five, and I ?un't stopped working yet, so d?an't go saying you're too old. Your gals can go out to service ... and this liddle chap here ..." FORE:"Why, do you not know that that is Jack Straw, the Essex captain?"The combatants were as yet little hurt, for each was well skilled in the use of his weapon; but the steward, in endeavouring to ward off a blow that might have cleft his head, only succeeded at the sacrifice of his right ear, which was severed by the descending blade; and, ere he could recover this shock, Holgrave sprang within his guard, and wrenched the sword from his hand. A brief but fierce struggle ensued, in which Holgrave, at length, prevailedthe steward was thrown backward to the ground, and the next moment his enemy's hand was on his throat.
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Richard was embarrassed. Her fine words disconcerted him. He had often watched Miss Bardon from a respectful distance, but had never spoken to her before."You are a leader of the rebels?" interrogated Sudbury.During the moments that elapsed between the order and the appearance of the men, De Boteler threw himself back in his chair, and was apparently engaged in counting the number of studs in his glittering sword-hilt; and the smith (who, although he felt himself a freeman, yet, from a natural principle of deference, did not consider he was at liberty to depart until the baron had given him an intimation to that effect,) stood, with something of an embarrassed air, awaiting the permission, and the idea every instant crossing his mind whether this summoning of the retainers could have any reference to him. But his suspense was not of long durationthe retainers entered, and De Boteler, raising himself in his chair, said, pointing to Turner,"His abominable farmhe gets every bit of work out of us he can, till we're justabout desperate"
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