"Look here, farmer," said one of the young men"we're awfully sorry, and we'll settle with you about that cow. We were only having a rag. We're awfully sorry."
ONE:"Oh, mother, I cannot tell you," answered Holgrave, turning away his face from her searching glance; "Oh, no, I cannot tell you!"
TWO:"And if you had never known me," said Holgrave, starting up and grasping Turner's hand, "you need not have changed your name: but you are an honest man, let you be called what you mayand Stephen Holgrave will never forget what you have done for him and his."
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ONE:She sometimes asked herself if she loved him, and in cold blood there was only one answer to that questionNo. What she felt for him was not love, but obsessionif she had never loved she might have mistaken it, but with her memories of Harry she could not. And the awful part of it was that her heart was still Harry's, though everything else was Reuben's. Her desires, her thoughts, her will were all Reuben'sby a slow remorseless process he was making them his ownbut her heart,[Pg 67] the loving, suffering part of her, was still Harry's, and might always be his."Your gift betokens a good feeling, young dame," said Isabella, turning to Margaret. "But why did you choose so costly a present?"
TWO:"'Tis false!" returned Richard, angrily"who are they?confess! confess!"Rose was not sorry to see the last of Benjamin, whom she had always despised as a coarse lumpkinish youth, whose clothes smelt strongly either of pitch or manure. But she dreaded breaking the news to Reuben. She disliked her husband's rages, and now she would have to let one loose. Then suddenly she thought of something, and a little smile dimpled the corners of her mouth.
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ONE:"The baron has pledged himself that, if your intelligence and services are such as you hinted at, you may claim your own reward."
TWO:"Hullo, Ben," she said nervouslyit was one of her nervous days.
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TWO:Yet Mrs. Backfield did not, any more than Naomi, understand Reuben's great ambition.
FORE:"You finish your tea," he said to George, "and bring some more, Maudie, for these gentlemen," nodding kindly to the two young men, who stared at him as if they thought he had taken leave of his senses.It was all rather ugly and ridiculous, and as before at Mockbeggar, the crowd began to straggle. This time there was no public-house to swallow up strays, but the marsh spread far and wide, a Land of Promise for lovers, who began to slink off two by two into the mists. Some who were not lovers formed themselves into noisy groups, and bumped about the laneswaking the farmers' wives from Bosney to Marsh Quarter.
FORE:"I heard of your brother Pete the other daynever knew he'd left home till I saw his name down to preach at Piddinghoe Mission Hall last month. He's called Salvation Pete now, as I daresay you know, and I half thought of going to hear him, only times are so bad I couldn't afford an evening off. When did he leave Odiam?I should like some news of home."
FORE:"You said you were coming at eleven. I'm afraid father's out again."Reuben felt his heart sink, and his beer nearly choked him. Soon a vast struggle was raging round the hustings, as the voters fought their way through fists and sticks, often emergingespecially the Conservativeswith their clothes half torn off their backs and quite ruined by garbage. The special constables were useless, for their own feelings betrayed them, and unluckily even in their ranks the Radicals predominated. The[Pg 183] state of the poll at ten-thirty was twenty-seven for Captain MacKinnon and only eleven for Colonel MacDonald.
FORE:He turned and walked slowly homewards, a smile on his lips. As he passed the orchard, where a crop of plums was ripening, the shrill whir of a bird-rattle made him look up. There in the long grass stood his young Albert, dutifully scaring sparrows from the trees. He had been there all the afternoon, and Reuben[Pg 113] beckoned to him to come in to tea. Further on, in the yard, he encountered Robert feeding the chickens out of an enormous bowl carried by Pete, whose arms with difficulty embraced its girth. He summoned these two in. His family trotted after him at a respectful distance. They did not speak, except to say "Oo" occasionally to each other.
FORE:"Is she buried like a Christian?" passionately interrogated the stranger. "No," he continued, in a quieter tone, "she was buried last night in the high road without kyste or shroud, or prayer, just as one would throw a dead dog overboard: but there is no use talking nowthis is not what I came for. I came to ask if ye will give me a hand to get her out again.""A famous house-warming for John Byles," said he. "By Saint Nicholas! I wish his furniture had been in to have made the fire burn brisker. 'Tis almost over now; there it goes down, and then it comes up again, by fits and starts: 'tis a pity, too, to see the house which stood so snugly to-day, a black and smoky ruin to-morrow; but better a ruin, than a false heart to enjoy it. By Saint Nicholas! 'twill give the old gossips talk for the whole week. Aye, 'tis all over now; there will still be a spark and a puff now and then; but there's nothing to see worth keeping the karles any longer from their beds, and I think it is time that we be in oursso good night. But a word with you, Stephen;you did the business yourself this time without help; but mind you, if ever Wat Turner can lend you a hand, you have only to say soGood night."
FORE:
FORE:Holgrave bent his head in acknowledgment to the knight; and, placing the box under his arm, observed, "I hid these, lest they should be witness against me; and now, if it please ye, noble sirs, to come back to the hall, I will restore them to my lady."
TWO:Robert opened his mouth to refuse. He was offended by the way the Squire looked at Bessie. But on second thoughts he realised that this was no reason for depriving her of a wrap; his own coat was too short to be much good. After all he could see that the acquaintance went no further.
TWO:"Where's master?""Not guilty, my lord," she replied, in a voice so loud and distinct, that the surprised hearers wondered so feeble a creature could possess such a voice.
But Albert's weak mind clung to its first idea with scared tenacity. He was still raving about it when Pete came in from his work that evening.Meantime, so fast bound in the iron of his misery that he scarcely felt the prick of tongues, Reuben lived through the final stages of his nightmarethose final stages of shock and upheaval when the fiery torment of the dream dies down into the ashes of waking. He wandered over his land in his lime-caked boots, scarcely talking to those at work on it, directing with mere mechanical activity the labour which now seemed to him nothing but the writhings of a crushed beetle. Everyone felt a little afraid of him, everyone avoided him as much as possiblehe was alone."Aye, Sir Treasurer, thou hast reason to sink thy head! Thy odious poll-tax has mingled vengeancenay, bloodwith the cry of the bond."