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ONE:The next day Naomi left for Rye, where she stayed three weeks. She was mistaken, however, in thinking she had found a place of refuge, the hunt still went on. Reuben knew that his kiss had given him a definite position with regard to her, and Naomi knew that he knew. Twice he came over and visited her at Rye. He never attempted to kiss her again, and carefully avoided all talk of love. Indeed, her father was generally in the room. He was much taken with young Backfield, who was ready to talk shipping and harbour-work with him for hours. TWO:"Could you paint Boarzell?"
ONE:The son sprang to his feet, and helped his mother, whose stoutness and stiffness made it a difficult matter, to rise too. TWO:"Well, is it? I reckon it ?un't the last word on your wife."
ONE:"The work that I strove for has begun, and it will finish; but mine eyes will not live to see that day. From the hour that blood was shed I forsook the cause; but I hid myself from the snares that were laid for me;��for I said, surely the light shall yet rise up in darkness! and it has risen; and it will grow brighter and brighter;��but John Ball's task is done, and he gives himself up to the death that awaits him." TWO:O why when we kissed 'mid the ewes on the hanger,

FORE:Who has not loaded ye with curses sore

THREE:
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THREE:"Why didn't you send to me?"
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THREE:
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THREE:"I'll t?ake you," said Pete cheerily.
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THREE:Pete spent that evening with Ades, and Reuben's fireside slumbers were unrestful because he missed Pete's accustomed snore from the other end of the settle. The next morning his son did not appear, though there was plenty of work to be done in the hop-fields.[Pg 378] The young hops were now well above ground, and exposed to the perils of blight, so Reuben and Beatup were spraying them with insect-killer, badly in need of a third man to do the mixing.
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THREE:The arrival of such a body as the Essex men, so near the city, and the approach of the Kentish men, was, of course, no secret to those who inhabited the Tower, but there was no standing army ready, at a moment's notice, to march out and oppose their progress. They had, indeed, six hundred archers within the Tower, but it was considered the most prudent course not to send them forth, lest, while they were attacking one division, another might come on and make themselves masters of the strong hold. Many of the nobles who resided beyond the city walls fled from their dwellings to seek a refuge in the Tower, and among these Roland de Boteler, at his lady's earnest entreaty, withdrew with her, from his mansion just beyond Bishopgate, and sought a temporary shelter within the fortress.The abbot looked frowningly on father John, as he again took up the pen. "My son, you are not serving the church by such pertinacity. This application will only expose one of its dignitaries to humiliation; however, I shall write to the Baron, since you desire it, and demand that the accused be transferred to the tribunal over which we preside."
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FORE:It indeed seemed evident that some bold measure was contemplated, and Richard's suggestion respecting the monk was about to be acted upon, with only a prudent hint from Sir Robert Hales not to provoke the Commons to desperation, when De Boteler's page approached his master.

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FORE:"True, true, I will see to him��he shall answer for what he has done��but now Calverley, tell me honestly, for you are not wont to be familiar even with your fellows��tell me what you saw in this maiden that could make you wish to rival Stephen Holgrave?"Chapter 17

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FORE:"What!" said the overbearing Leicester, looking fiercely at the ex-foreman��"didn't I tell you that I was to be the King of Norfolk, and Wat Tyler��"

THREE:"My wife's deceived me!" shouted Reuben. "I made sure as she'd come in fur thousands of pounds when old Lardner died, and all she's got out of him is fifty pounds and his lousy furniture.""Four-and-twenty days," said the stranger, in a voice so loud that the eleven started, "if I could live so long, shall never make me a murderer! No, no; you may go tell of the lushburgs, and hang me for a coiner," he said, starting suddenly up, and looking proudly at Black Jack; "but, by the holy well! you shall not make me hang the woman who nursed my mother, and prayed by her when every body else was afraid to go near her. She a witch!" he continued, with a bitter laugh��"by the holy well! if she had been so, she wouldn't have given the poor orphan a groat and a piece of bread, to come back, after ten years, to hang her at last! But this comes of carding and dicing, and sabbath-breaking. The fiend drives one on and on, till at last a man thinks nothing of murder itself."

FORE:During the next ten years the farm went forward by strides. Reuben bought seven more acres of Boarzell in '59, and fourteen in '60. He also bought a horse-rake, and threshed by machinery. He was now a topic in every public-house from Northiam to Rye. His success and the scant trouble he took to conciliate those about him had made him disliked. Unprosperous farmers[Pg 124] spoke windily of "spoiling his liddle game." Ditch and Ginner even suggested to Vennal that they should club together and buy thirty acres or so of the Moor themselves, just to spite him. However, money was too precious to throw away even on such an object, especially as everyone felt sure that Backfield would sooner or later "bust himself" in his dealings with Boarzell."Harry! Harry!" she cried, and came to herself in the little sun-smouldering room, while outside Reuben stormed at his boys to "sack their chaff," and the machine purred and sang��"Urrr-um��Urrr-um."

THREE:

THREE:... And he was gone��walking past the window in a top-hat.

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FORE:Then, when Fair-time came, people began to mutter "no more Fair." It was as hard to imagine Boarzell without the Fair as without its plume of firs. The Squire gave out his intention of tolerating the Fair, as long as it did not straggle from the crest. But this failed to soothe the indignant and sore, for it was humbling to have the Fair as a matter of toleration. Also at that time there was talk of fences. All the Moor had been mapped out, the claims considered, the road repaired, and now nothing more was to be done except to put up the fences which would definitely seal Boarzell as Flightshot's own."Oh, landscapes mostly. That's mine"��and she pointed to a little water-colour sketch of a barn.

FORE:So the fight raged on, the Battle of Boarzell. Unfortunately it did not rage on Boarzell itself, but on its fruitful fringe, where the great ploughfields lapped up to the base of the Moor, taking the sunset on their wet brown ridges. Poor Ginner's winter wheat was all pulped and churned to ruin, and the same doom fell on Ditch's roots. Sometimes it seemed as if the Squire's men would attain their object, for the fence��very tottery and uncertain, it must be confessed��had wound a bit of the way past Totease towards Odiam. Dusk had fallen, but the men still worked, for their blood was up.

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FORE:

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