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ONE:Oh, Boarzell, Boarzell!... his love, his dream, his promised land, lying there in the cold white hope of morning! No degenerate sons could rob him of his Moor, though they might leave him terribly alone on it. After all, better be alone with his ambition, than share it with their defiling thoughts, their sordid, humdrum, milk-and-water schemes. In future he would try no more to interest his children in Boarzell. He had tried to thrill Robert and Albert and Richard with his glorious enterprise, and they had all forsaken himone for love, one for fame, and one for some still unknown unworthiness. He would not trouble about the others;[Pg 191] they should serve him for no other reason but that he was a hard master. He had been hard with the three boys, but he had been exciting and confiding too. Now he would drop all that. He would cease to look for comradeship in his children, as years ago he had ceased to look for it in his wife. It would be enough if they were just slaves working under his whip. He had been a fool to expect sympathy.... Boarzell, looming blacker and blacker against the glowing pinks and purples of the sky, seemed to mock at sympathy and its cheap colours, seemed to bid him Be Hard, Be Strong, Be RemorselessBe Alone. TWO:Those to whom the command was addressed now encompassed the smith, who, with astonishing dexterity, warded off the blows that were aimed at his hands and arms to compel him to relinquish the stave. His hands were bleeding, and his arms swollen; but his heart was like the roused lion's, and, if unable to conquer his opponents (for the exertion of parrying prevented him from dealing blows), he would undoubtedly have at least tired their mettle, had not a stable boy, who saw the fray from a window above, mischievously flung down a quantity of chaff on his head. In the surprise and annoyance this created, the weapon was wrested from his relaxed grasp, and the retainers fastened on him like wolves. In the manual struggle which now succeeded, Turner was dragged towards the tumbrel; but, as it met his eyes, he seemed suddenly endowed with more than human strength. The retainers fell around him, either from blows or kicks, and blood streamed copiously. At length De Boteler (who would not permit steel to be used against an unarmed man), ashamed that so unequal a conflict should so long continue, ordered that, instead of the tumbrel, Turner should be conveyed to the keep. This, after much resistance, was effected, and a prison-door was, for the first time, locked on the intrepid smith.
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ONE:"Sharp stones are under him...." TWO:"No, but I will fetch you some directly."
Donec sodales eros sed efficitur mattis. Integer tincidunt, felis a placerat maximus, eros nulla dapibus dui, at facilisis enim odio at velit. Aenean dictum eleifend mi sit amet luctus. Maecenas suscipit imperdiet nisi ac hendrerit. congue felis ac massa rutrum pulvinar.
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ONE:"Look up, pretty one," said De Boteler to Margaret!"Now, by my faith Holgrave, I commend your choice. I wonder not that such a prize was contended for. Margaret,I believe that is your name? Look up! and tell me in what secret place you grew into such beauty?" TWO:"Well, it'll be done now, surelye. It'll show the folk here I mean businessand that I'm a chap wud ideas."
Donec sodales eros sed efficitur mattis. Integer tincidunt, felis a placerat maximus, eros nulla dapibus dui, at facilisis enim odio at velit. Aenean dictum eleifend mi sit amet luctus. Maecenas suscipit imperdiet nisi ac hendrerit. congue felis ac massa rutrum pulvinar.
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ONE:Pete's attitude was Reuben's chief perplexity. It is true that in early years Albert seemed to have exercised a kind of fascination over his younger brothers and[Pg 365] sisters; still that was long ago, and Pete did not appear to have given him a thought in the interval. But now he suddenly developed an almost maternal devotion for the sick and broken Albert. He would sit up whole nights with him in spite of the toils of the day, he trod lumberingly about on tiptoe in his presence, he read to him by the sweat of his brow. Something in his brother's weakness and misery seemed to have appealed to his clumsy strength. The root of sentimentality which is always more or less encouraged by a brutal career was quickened in his heart, and sprouted to an extent that would have mystified the many he had bashed. It perplexed and irritated his father. To see Pete hulking about on tiptoe, carrying jugs of water and cups of milk, shutting doors with grotesque precaution, and perpetually telling someone upstairs in a voice hoarse with sympathy that he "wurn't to vrother, as he'd be better soon"was a foolish and maddening spectacle. Also Reuben dreaded that Pete would scamp his farm work, so he fussed round after everything he did, and called him from Albert's bedside times without number to hoe turnips or guide the plough. TWO:"Tell me, monk," asked Isabella, "did you see the multitude who filled the open space when you were led upon the battlements this afternoon?"
Integer suscipit imperdiet nisi ac hendrerit. Nam congue felis ac massa rutrum pulvinar. Donec sodales eros sed efficitur mattis. Maecenas tincidunt, felis a placerat maximus, eros nulla dapibus dui, at facilisis enim odio at velit. Aenean dictum eleifend mi sit amet luctus.
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ONE:Calverley had no sooner assured himself of the flight of the bondman, than he dispatched a messenger to assemble the vassals for the purpose of carrying the hue and cry in different directions; and he then entered the castle to inform De Boteler of the event. TWO: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.
Maecenas suscipit imperdiet nisi ac hendrerit. Nam congue felis ac massa rutrum pulvinar. Donec sodales eros sed efficitur mattis. Integer tincidunt, felis a placerat maximus, eros nulla dapibus dui, at facilisis enim odio at velit. Aenean dictum eleifend mi sit amet luctus.
