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A quick knock aroused Mary from her seat at the fire. She approached the door on tiptoe, and hesitated a moment ere she unclosed it; but the rapid breathings of Byles relieved her alarm, and she opened it hastily. A pale, haggard look met her eyes as her husband rushed in. "Fasten the door, Mary," said he"haste, quench the fire. Here, put these wet clothes in the hiding place"stripping himself of his garments"and when you have done, hasten to bed. I am afraid they have overtaken poor Sam."Oakley stepped back from the window, and stood an instant apparently irresolute. "Plague on this Holgrave!" he muttered"I wish I had sent Harvey; he could have managed it as well as I; but one don't like giving these fellows half the profit, besides making them as wise as one's self;but what is the knave to me?" And then, as if his slight scruples were dissipated by the consideration of the little sympathy that ought to exist between one circumstanced like Holgrave and himself, he drew his hat more over his brow, and folding his cloak closer around him, approached, although, it must be admitted, with rather an indecisive step, the door of the cottage, and gave a slight tap. "I will go to the door, Stephen," he heard Margaret say, with a quickness which seemed to imply that the simple circumstance of a summons to the door at a somewhat late hour was sufficient to awaken her fears."F?ather," pleaded Robert, "you loved my mother."
ONE:"He's safe enough nowwe may as well go and have a look round.""Well, say ityou w?an't be far wrong. Wot sort o' chap am I to have pride? My farm's ruined, my wife's run away, my children have left mewot right have I to be proud?"

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TWO:"Become a bondman!" cried the smith, disappointed and mortified at the alternative: "Stephen, I would sooner die."

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  • FORE:"Well, I wouldn't have married you if you hadn't got none.""That's another of my daughters gone fur a whore."

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  • FORE:Robert looked sideways at Bessie. She was colourless in the dark, or rather coloured all over with the same soft grey, which gathered up into itself the purple of her gown and the pale web of her hair. In her eyes was a quiver of starlight."I justabout haven't. It's you"

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  • FORE:"Retire, kerns!" said De Boteler, glancing with anger at Oakley and the galleyman, "and settle your vile feuds as ye may. Disturb not this noble presence longer."

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  • FORE:

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  • FORE:Reuben and Rose were married in the January of '70. It was the earliest date compatible with the stocking of her wardrobe, a business which immediately absorbed her to the exclusion of everything else.

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  • FORE:"How's the cream to-day?"

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THREE:It was strange that during this gay meal the strongest link was forged between Rose and Caro. Two natures more utterly unlike it would be hard to findCaro's starved ignorance of love and aged familiarity with dustier matters made her the antithesis of Rose, a child in all things save those of the affections; but the two women's hearts met in their laughter. It was Rose who invited, Caro who responded, for Rose in spite of her years and inexperience had the one advantage which made her the older of the two. She was drawn to Caro partly from essential kindness, partly because she [Pg 260]appreciated the luxury of pitying herCaro responded with all the shy devotion of a warped nature going out towards one who enjoys that for which it unconsciously pines. Rose's beauty, jollity, and happiness made her a goddess to the less fortunate girl.

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THREE:"That's why I want to hear wot it's about. You read it."

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THREE:Rose gave a faint scream. In the moonlight her husband's face looked distorted, while his voice came thick and unnatural.

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ONE:"What brings me, Calverley!" replied Holgrave, furiously, "who are you, to ask such a question? What brings you here?"
FORE:

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TWO:"Wot?" cried Reuben, sick with the new-born terror.At last he wandered desperately away, treading the furrows of his new ground on Boarzell, reckless that he trod the young seed harrowed into them. In that black moment even his winter crops were nothing to him. He saw, thought of, realised only one thingand that was Rose, the false, the gay, the wanton, and the beautifuloh the beautiful!laughing at him from another man's arms. He could see her laughing, see just how her lips parted, just how her teeth shonethose little teeth, so regular except for the pointed caninesjust how the dimples came at the corners of her mouth, those dear little hollows which he had dug with his kisses....

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TWO:The struggle was terrible; it wore him out. He fought it desperatelyto neither side would he surrender an inch. Sometimes with Rose's arms about him, her soft cheek against his and her perfidy forgotten, he would be on the brink of giving her the pretty costly thing, whatever it was, that she wanted at the expense of Odiam. At others, out in his fields, or on the slope of Boarzellhalf wild, half tamedwith all those unconquered regions swelling above him, he would feel that he could almost gladly lose Rose altogether, if to keep her meant the sacrifice of one jot of his ambition, one tittle of his hope. Then he would go home, and find her ogling Handshut through the window, or giving tea in her most seductive manner to some young idiot with clean handsand round would go the wheel againround and round....
THREE: THREE:"Wot is it then?""Why?" THREE:"Oh Stephen, my son, my first-bornthy mother kneels to thee. Lay aside that lance and hearken to the words of her who bore thee, and nourished thee. Oh, bring not sorrow and ruin on thyself and her! What would be the bitterness of my dying moments if my son lived not to lay me beside his father?if thy Margaret was left to mourn in lowly widowhoodand, perhaps, to fall beneath the base arts of Calverley! Oh, my son, my son, by the soul of thy dead father, and by the blessing of thy mother, resist not!Hark! they comethey come! Haste, StephenGive me the weapon."
Should you turn from me now that they winter in fold?She fell against the wall, and her hair, disordered by embraces, suddenly streamed over her shoulders. The sight of it made Reuben wild."What, my lieges!" he exclaimed, with a smile of confidence, "are ye angry that your leader is slain? Richard of England shall supply his placefollow me to the field and ye shall have what ye desire!""M?aster" continued the man after a pause."My lord abbot," replied Skipwith, bowing to the priest, "the writ you speak of has been recalled; a chancery messenger was here not three days since."
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