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Chapter 7

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Reuben struggled untiringlyhe tried manure as in his first enterprising days, and a horrible stink of guano told traffic on the road it was passing through Odiam territory. Spades and ploughshares and harrows scored and pulped the earth. Sometimes with breaking back and aching head, the sweat streaming over his skin, he would lift himself stiffly from the plough-handles, and shake his fist at the desert round him. He had never had such a tussle before, and put it down to the fact that he was now for the first time on the high ground, on the hard and sterile scab of the marl, where it seemed as if only gorse would grow. He felt as if now for the first time he was fighting against odds, his earlier struggles were tame compared with this.

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ONE:Of course there was a tremendous outcry in Peasmarsh and the neighbourhood. Everyone knew that the Fair was doomedBackfield would never allow it to be held on his land. His ploughs and his harrows were merely waiting for the negotiations to be finished before leaping, as it were, upon this their last prey. He would even cut down the sentinel firs that for hundreds of years had kept grim and lonely watch over the Sussex fieldshad seen old Peasen Mersch when it was only a group of hovels linked with the outside world by lanes like ditches, and half the country a moor like the Boar's Hyll."True, true, I will see to himhe shall answer for what he has donebut now Calverley, tell me honestly, for you are not wont to be familiar even with your fellowstell me what you saw in this maiden that could make you wish to rival Stephen Holgrave?"

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THREE:Naomi's illness dragged. Sometimes Reuben suspected her of malingering, she so obviously did not want to get well. He guessed her reasons, and took an opportunity to tell her of the doctor's verdict. The struggle was in abeyanceat least her share of it. Naturewhich was really what he was fighting in Boarzellhad gained a temporary advantage, and his outposts had been forced to retire.
THREE:"His abominable farmhe gets every bit of work out of us he can, till we're justabout desperate"

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THREE:sang the sailor sentimentally. His arm crept up from her waist to her shoulder and lay heavy there. They strolled on along the narrow path, and the darkness stole down on them from the Moor, wrapping them softly together. They told each other their nameshis was Joe Dansay, and he was a sailorman of Rye, who had been on many voyages to South America and the Coral Seas. He looked about twenty-five, though he was tanned and weather-beaten all over. His eyes were dark and foreign-looking, so was his hair. His mouth was a trifle too wide, his nose short and stubborn.
FORE:The Squire soon arrived. Reuben had him shown into the parlour, and insisted on seeing him alone.

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FORE:He wanted to smash Tilly even more than he wanted to smash Realf. He had seen her twice since her marriagemeeting her once in Rye, and once on Boarzelland each sight had worked him into a greater rage. Her little figure had strengthened and filled out, her demure self-confidence had increased, her prettiness was even more adorable now that the rose had deepened on her cheeks and her gowns strained over her breast; she was enough to fill any man with wrath at the joke of[Pg 237] things. Tilly ought to be receiving the wages of her treachery in weariness and anxiety, fading colour and withering fleshand here she was all fat and rosy and happy, well-fed and well-beloved. He hated her and called her a harlotbecause she had betrayed Odiam for hire and trafficked in its shame.

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FORE:"Oh, Joe, would you really!"With a little more persuasion and the most solemn assurances that the verdict could not possibly affect Edith, the galleyman at length reluctantly consented to agree with the eleven, and the foreman gave in the verdict of guilty.

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THREE:"You always wur queer about Boarzell. But your f?ather 'ud turn in his grave to think of you sending off Blackman.""What of her?" asked the monk, looking inquiringly on the esquire.
FORE:That was the conclusion he came to after much heavy pondering. He had never been truly in love before. He had wanted women for various reasons, either for their charm and beauty, or because, as in Naomi's case, of their practical use to him. Alice had no beauty, and a charm too subtle for him to realise, though as a matter of fact[Pg 239] the whole man was plastic to itas for practical usefulness, she was poor, delicate, unaccustomed to country life, and hostile to all his most vital ambitions. She would not bring him wealth or credit, she was not likely to bear him healthy childrenand yet he loved her.

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FORE:"To whom do you allude, knave?" asked Sudbury, with some surprise.

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FORE:"Father," resumed Wells, "take up that lamp, and we'll get a flask of the best, to drink a health to the rising; and do you, Holgrave, go up and just take a look at your children, and then we must be gone.""By St. Nicholas!" cried he at last, "something ill has befallen the holy man, or he would have been here before now. We will march on directly, and find him, or the London folks shall look to it."

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FORE:The procession moved on, and the monk followed amidst the mass; but if he looked wistfully at the pageant, it was only in the hope that some opportunity might offer of publicly addressing the young king, or, rather, his uncle, and appealing for justice; but no opportunity did offer. Indeed, at such a moment, when the good citizens were displaying their taste and munificence, it seemed little less than folly to expect it.

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There were several of his friends at Starcliffe that afternoonmen and women rising in the worlds of literature, law, and politics. It was possible that Richard would contend the Rye divisionin the Liberal interest, be it said with shameand he was anxious to surround himself with those who might be useful to him. Besides, he was one of those men who breathe more freely in an atmosphere of Culture. Apart from mere utilitarian questions, he liked to talk over the latest books, the latest cause clbre or diplomatic coup d'tat. Anne, very upright, very desiccated, poured out tea, and Reuben noted with satisfaction that Nature had beaten her at the battle of the [Pg 458]dressing-table. Richard, on the other hand, in spite of an accentuation of the legal profile, looked young for his age and rather buckish, and rumour credited him with an intrigue with a lady novelist.It was to no purpose that the monk requested, and then commanded, that he should be permitted to pursue his journey alone. Stephen insisted upon accompanying him out of Gloucestershire, and father John, to avoid contention, feigned to defer his departure; but when the tables were spread, and the domestics and vassals had sat down to the feast, Margaret, who had been seeking the monk about the castle, looked and looked again among them all, and at length had to weep over the certainty that she should never more behold her brother. Nor did she; for John Ball did not long survive his exile. On the second anniversary of the bondman's freedom, his own spirit was freed, and his body rested in the cemetery of the monastery of Cistercium, in Burgundy.Bessie tinted the world for Robert like a sunrise. All through the day he carried memories of lightless woods, of fields hushed in the swale, of the smudge of her old purple cotton beside himof, perhaps, some dim divine moment when his hand had touched hers hanging at her side."That for ye, coward," said Tyler, striking him with the flat side of his bared weapon. Oakley aimed another thrust which was again turned aside, and the smith, now flinging down his sword, seized upon his right hand and wrenched the dagger from its grasp. After a short struggle, Oakley fell heavily on the pavement with the blood streaming from his mouth and nostrils.
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