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"Prisoner," said the judge, "have you any witnesses to call on your behalf?"

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ONE:When Calverley saw his lord after this transaction, the scene, much to the amazement of the former, partook more of comedy than tragedy, for De Boteler, when he saw the head of his esquire minus the ear, could not refrain from laughter.

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THREE:"And what good will that do you?"

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THREE:"Unaccountable cheeryand she drank three bottles of six ale."

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THREE:

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THREE:Of course there was a reconciliation. Such things had begun to loom rather large in Reuben's married life. He had never had reconciliations with Naomithe storms had not been fierce enough to warrant a special celebration of the calms. But he and Rose were always being[Pg 277] reconciled. At first he had looked upon these episodes as sweets of matrimony, more blessed than any amount of honeymoon, but now he had gone a stage further and saw them merely as part of the domestic ritualthat very evening when he held Rose and the baby together in his big embrace he knew that in a day or two he would be staling the ceremony by another repetition."Stephen Holgrave, my lord, has not yet finished his fealty."

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ONE:

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THREE:He had triumphed. He had beaten down the last resistance of the enemy, won the last stronghold of Boarzell. It was all his now, from the clayey pastures at its feet to the fir-clump of its crown. A trivial event which he had been able to seize and turn to his advantage had unexpectedly given him the victory. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.
THREE:"Stolen from the castles and houses they have plundered," added Sudbury. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.
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THREE:"Why?"When the struggle on the lower slopes of Boarzell between the damp earth and the determined man had ended in the earth's sludgy victory and a pile of rotten straw which should have been the glory of the manthen Reuben had time to think of what was going on in the house. He sent for the doctornot Dr. Espinette, but a Cockney successor who boiled his instruments and washed his hands in carbolicand heard from him that Mrs. Backfield's existence was no longer justified. She could not expect to work again. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.
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ONE:As a matter of fact he had never been so secure of Rose as then; the very shamelessness of her flirtations was a proof of ita whoop of joy, so to speak, at finding herself free of what she had feared would be a devastating passion. But who could expect Reuben to guess that? He saw only the freak of a treacherous nature, turning from him to men younger and more compliant than himself. Jealousy, from a fit, became a habit. He grew restless and miserablehe would run in suddenly from his work to see what his wife was doing, he would cross-examine Caro, he would even ask Pete to keep an eye on her. Sometimes he thought of dismissing Handshut, but the lad was an excellent drover, and Reuben had bursts of sanity in which he saw the foolishness of such a sacrifice. Rose flirted nowadays with every man she metshe was, he told himself furiously, a thoroughly[Pg 291] light and good-for-nothing girlshe was not worth the loss of a fellow like Handshut.Should you do me to death with your dark treacherie?

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FORE:
FORE:"I speak but the truth," replied Calverley. "You have been rewarded well for the deed you did; and think not that your braggart speech will win my lord. This maid is no meet wife for such as you. My lord has offered me fair lands and her freedom if I choose to wed her: and though many a free dowered maid would smile upon the suit of Thomas Calverley, yet have I come to offer wedlock to Margaret."
FORE:He was more stoutly resolved than ever that the mob of small farmers and incompetents should not gape at his misfortunes. So he hid under a highly repulsive combination of callousness and swagger his grief for his sons' defection, his rage and shame at Tilly's marriage, and his growing anxiety about Odiam. That summer had been terriblea long drought had been followed too late by thundery rains. His harvest had been[Pg 236] parched and scrappy, most of the roots shedding their seed before reaping; the green-fly had spoiled several acres of hops, which otherwise would have been the one bright patch in the season; his apples and pears had been eaten by wasps; and then a few untimely showers had beaten down two fields of barley yet unreaped and his only decent crop of aftermath hay.
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FORE:
FORE:"Ho! we shall see that."
FORE:
ONE:"No, not of theirs," eagerly interrupted Margaret, drawing a bottle from beneath her cloak, and pouring into a wooden cup, which she took from her pocket, some diluted wine; "but drink this, Stephen: do drink itit will cool your mouth."

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ONE:"By saint Nicholas!" said he, pushing back the sleeves of his jerkin, and extending his long sinewy arms, "the first man of ye that lays a finger on Wat Turner, had better have shrieved himself; for there is that in this hand (clenching his fist in the face of the man who was nearest, and speaking through his set teeth)there is that in this hand will make ye remember!""Oh, ma'am, ma'amif ever you cud help me get[Pg 171] freeif ever ... oh, II'd sarve you all my lifeI'd"

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ONE:"Some can. I was educated with my brother, you know, and when we construed Horace I was always five or six pages ahead. What made you want to learn Latin?"The boys told her; they described their prosperous brother with his white shirt-front, his pince-nez, his ring, and his high-born wife. As they talked they grew more at their ease.

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FORE:"May be so," answered Holgrave; "but if your prayers be not heard, and the child dies"
FORE:Reuben himself believed in the fit, and a real anxiety tortured him as he thrust his lantern into the gaping caverns of bushes. He had by his thoughtless and excessive zeal allowed Boarzell to rob him of another man. Of course, it did not follow that George was dead,[Pg 223] but unless they found him soon it was quite likely that he would not survive exposure on such a night. If so, Reuben had only himself to thank for it. He should have listened to his daughter, and either let George off his work or made him work near home. He did not pretend to himself that he loved this weakling son, or that his death would cause his fatherhood much grief, but he found himself with increasing definiteness brought up against the conviction that Boarzell was beating him, wringing its own out of him by slow, inexorable means, paying him back a hundredfold for every acre he took or furrow he planted.

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