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They could not help wondering at his strenuousness, his unlimited capacity for work, though they failed to understand or sympathise with the object that inspired them. Blackman, grumbling and perplexed, had gone off early in March to the milder energies of Raisins Farm; Becky, for want of a place, had married the drover at Kitchenhourand it was no empty boast of[Pg 34] Reuben's that he would take the greater part of their work on his own shoulders. From half-past four in the morning till nine at night he laboured almost without rest. He drove the cows to pasture, milked them, and stalled themhe followed the plough over the spring-sown crops, he groomed and watered the horses, he fed the fowls, watched the clutches, fattened capons for markethe cleaned the pigsty, and even built a new one in a couple of strenuous dayshe bent his back over his spade among the roots, over his barrow, wheeling loads of manurehe was like a man who has been starved and at last finds a square meal before him. He had all the true workman's rewardsthe heart-easing ache of tired muscles, the good bath of sweat in the sun's heat, the delicious sprawl, every sinew limp and throbbing, in his bed at nightsand then sleep, dreamless, healing, making new.

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He stood staring at the grass with its dribbles of[Pg 39] lavant and spines of rushes. The wind brought the sound of someone singing. At first he scarcely noticed, then gradually the song worked in with his daydream, and ended by rousing him out of it. He strolled across his domain, and marked half a dozen sturdy willows which must come out somehow roots and all. He climbed into the bracken zone, and from thence saw Harry sitting by a gorse thicket some hundred yards off with Naomi Gasson."Ben!"
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THREE:There's peace in the Blood of the Slain.""Icool off! My dear, I dudn't ever. I never understoodyou're such a tedious liddle wild thing."

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THREE:There was something in the depths of him that cried for her, something which had never moved or cried in him before. In spite of her lack of beauty and beguilement, in spite of her hostility to all his darling schemes, there was something in him to which Alice actually and utterly belonged. He did not understand it, he could not analyse it, he scarcely indeed realised itall he felt was the huge upheaval, the conflict that it brought, all the shouting and the struggling of the desperate and motiveless craving that he felt for hera hunger in him calling through days and nights, in spite of her insignificance, her aloofness, her silences, her antagonism.

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THREE:But Mary was not to be intimidated, and Sir Robert, perceiving he could gain nothing from her in this way, arose, and approaching the baroness, who had been looking on with much interest, said, softly, "My Lady de Boteler, I wish to put a question or two to this woman, but as what I shall ask must be distressing to you, perhaps you had better retire."

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THREE: "The habits of this loathsome creature are so revolting that all who have beheld them turn from them in horror and disgust. It is afflicted with a dirty disease called Gladstone Fever, and in its delirium barks horribly 'Educate! Educate!'"

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THREE:On the whole, the most unsatisfactory of Reuben's sons was Albert. Richard might be more irritating, but Albert had that knack of public sinning which gives a certain spectacular offensiveness to the most trivial faults. Any trouble between Reuben and his eldest son invariably spread itself into the gossip of ten farms; the covert misdoings of and private reckonings with the other boys gave place to tempestuous scandals, windy stormings, in which Albert contrived to grab the general sympathy, and give a decorative impression of martyrdom.

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THREE:Suddenly he noticed that the wet of her garments was dropping on the lamb. He hastily gathered it up in his arms.
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THREE:"Thou art set over the people, and to the Lord's anointed I come to seek for justice."

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THREE:"I expect I couldnot really well, you know, just something like this."The Manor of Seth in the Sussex countrie,

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THREE:As the year climbed up again into spring, a tender pity for Bessie mingled with Robert's love. It was not the pity which begets love, but the sweeter kind which is begotten of it. Robert forgot all about his own hard life, the monotonous ruthless grind of work, the absence of all softness, homeliness, or sympathy, the denial of all gaiety and sport. He thought only of Bessie's troubles, and would have given the world to lighten[Pg 144] them. He longed to give her some little treat, or a present. But he had no money. For the first time he inwardly rebelled against the system which kept him penniless. None of the boys had any money, except Pete on Fair daysnot even Albert, for the Rye Advertiser did not pay its poets. For the first time Robert saw this as unjust.
Odiam was passing through anxious times. The expected and dreaded had happenedthe Corn Laws had been repealed, and cursing farmers grubbed up their wheatfields, hoping no more from grain. Reuben was bitterly disappointed, the whole future of Odiam was bound up with grain, the most honourable andin the long runmost profitable of a farm's concerns. In his dreams he had seen wind-rippled waves of wheat rolling up to Boarzell's very crest, he had seen the threshed corn filling his barn, or rumbling to Iden Mill. Now the cheap abundant foreign grain would fight his home-sown harvests. He would have to depend for revenue on milk and hops, and grow wheat only as an expensive decoration. Peel was a traitor; he had betrayed the staunch grain-growing Tories who had inconvenienced themselves with muddy rides to vote for his supporters. For a year or so Reuben hated the Conservatives, and would not vote at all at the next election."Mr. Hedges, the Liberal agent, promised that if I'd write fur him, he'd git me work on a London paper, and I could m?ake my fortune and be free of all this."She was surprised at his enthusiasm. His eyes were kindling, and a blush was creeping under his sunburn.Suddenly a weird noise came from the parlour, a strange groaning and wailing. Reuben woke up, and rubbed his eyes. What was that? It was horrible, it was uncannyand for him it also had that terrifying unnaturalness which a sudden waking gives even to the most ordinary sounds.They still sounded when Naomi woke. She sat up in bed, uncertain as to whether she were dreaming or not. Then from Fanny's little bed beside the big one came something terriblea low long wail like an animal's dying into a moan. It seemed as if her heart stopped[Pg 97] beating. She felt the sweat rush out all over her body. The next minute she was out of bed, groping for Fanny in the darkness."I'm out of practice, or I shouldn't have skinned myself like thisah, here's Coalbran's trap. Perhaps he'll give you a lift, ma'am, into Peasmarsh."
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