 Chapter forty-eight of Cripps the Carrier by Richard Dodridge Blackmore. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter forty-eight, Masculine Error Christopher Firmitidge Sharp, Esquire, strode forth, to have room as well as time for thought. His comely young face was unusually red, and he stroked his almost visible mustache as a stimulant to manhood. So deep and stern were his meditations that he never even thought of his pipe until he came to a bridge on the Botley Road, whereon he was accustomed to lean and smoke, and gazed at the little fish quietly. From the force of habit he pulled out his Mirschum, flint and steel and German tinder, and through blue rings of his own creation watched and envied the little fish, for though it was not yet the manner of his mind to examine itself very deeply, he had a strong conviction that the fish were happy, and that he was miserable. Upon the former point there could not be two opinions, unless the fish themselves held one, when any man observed how the little fellows jumped at the spicy-flavored flies that fluttered on the fluid gold to them, or flashed in and out among one another with a frolicsome spread of silver, or best of all in calm contemplation, softly moved pollucid fins, and gently opened fans of gills with magnifying eyes intent upon the glory of the lustrous world. Kitt considered them with an envious gaze, were they harassed, were they tortured, were they racked with agonized despair, were the proceedings of the female fish? Compelled to turn his grim thoughts inward he knew not that he was jealous. He only knew that if he were to meet the young noblemen with the four bay horses it would be an evil day for one of them. Tush! Why should he not go and forestall that bloated-unprincipled aristocrat whose intentions might even be dishonorable by having four horses himself and persuading that queen of beauty to alope with him? He had given his parents due notice, and if he had done what they wished by thus falling in love it could not be very much against their wishes if he made a hasty match of it, but could this lovely young American be persuaded to come with him? He had far too much respect for her to dream of using violence, but surely if he could convince her of the peril she was in and could promise her safe refuge with a grave old lady, a valued relative of his own, while she should have time to consider his suit, his devotion, his eternal constancy, his everlasting absorption into her higher and purer identity. He pulled out his purse. It contained four and six pence, a shilling and three half pence for each horse, and nothing for the postulants. We must do it less grandly, he said to himself, and after all it will be better, so how could four horses ever get through that wood? It must have been a fool to think of it. A very light chase and a pair will do ten times better, at a quarter of the money. I can get tick for that from old Squeaker himself, and the governor will have to pay. It need not cost me more than half a crown, and about three bob for turnpikes. Fifteen miles to old Aunt Peggy's on the Wycombe Road. Once there I defy them to do what they like. I am always the master of that house, and I know where they keep the blunderbuss. I have the greatest mind not to go home at all, but to complete my arrangements immediately. Squeaker would lend me a guinea with pleasure. He is a large-minded man, I am sure, but a fool I was to give poor sentiment to such a quantity of tin that day, and yet how could I help it? I might have gone on like a lord but for that. Kitt turned round and shook his head in several directions, trying to bring his mind the places where money might be hoped for, and this there is no mental effort more difficult than absorbing. No wonder, therefore, that in this contemplation he did not hear the upmail full gallop, springing the arch from the charlatan side, to make a fine run into Oxford. Oi there, stupid! The coachman shouted for the bridge was narrow, and the coach danced across it, with the vigor of the well-corded team. Oh, Kitt, is it? Climb for your hat, Kitt! Kitt's best friend, so far as he had any friends in the university by a stroke of fine art, sent the lash of his whip round the hat of the hero, and deposited it ere one might cry, where art thou gone? On the oilcloth which sat on the top of the luggage, which sat on the top of the coach which he drove, like the air of all the race of Nimchi, the hireling Jehu sat beside him, and having been at it since nine o'clock last night snored with a flourish not inferior to that which the male guard began upon his horn. Kitt was familiar with the coach at speed, as every young Englishman at that time was, in a twinkle he dashed at the hind boot, laid hold of the handle, and was up at once, the guard with an eye to an honest half-crown moving sideways, but offering no help, because it would have been an insult. Then over the hump of the luggage crawled Kitt, and clapped his own hat on his head, and between the shoulders of two fat passengers threw forth his strong arm, and bonneted the spanking son of Nimchi. The leaders ran askew till they were caught up, and the smart young driver would have thrown down the reins, and committed a personal assault on Kitt, who was perfectly ready to reply to it, being skilled in the art of self-defense, if the two fat passengers having seen the whole had not joined hands and stopped it. "'Tit for tat, tit for tat,' they cried. Squire, you began it, and you have your due. And so, with a hearty laugh, on they galloped. If you should have anything to say to me,' cried Kitt as he swung himself off the early male at the corner of his native cross-duck lane, you will know where to find me, but you must wait a day or two, for I have a particular engagement. Ah, rubbish Kitt, come and whine with me at seven. I shall have tooled home the non-pareil by then!' Christopher, though stern, was placable. He kissed his hand to his reconciled friend, while he shook his head to decline the invitation and strode off vigorously to consult his mother. To consult his dear mother meant to get money out of her, which was a very easy thing to do. And having a good deal of conscience, Kitt seldom abused that opportunity, unless he was really driven to it. Metallic necessity was on him now. His courage had been rising for the last half-hour. Faint heart, never one fair lady, rang to the tune of many horses' feet. His dash through the air had sent his spirits flying. His exploit and the applause thereof had taught him his own value. From this day forth he was a man of the world, and a man of the world was entitled to a wife. It was the last infirmity of noble and too active minds to feel that nothing is done well unless their presence guides it, to doubt the possibility of sage provision and nice conduct through the ins and outs of things, if ever the master spirit trusts the master body to be away, and the countless eyes of the brain to give twinkle instead of the two solid lights of the head. Hence it was that Mr. Sharp, at sight of Kitt, came forth to meet him, although he had arranged to send the mother, and this, as Mrs. Sharp declared, to her dying day was the greatest mistake ever made by a man of most wonderful mind while she was putting away the linen. Come in here, my boy, he said to his son, who was strictly vexed to see him, and yearning to be round the corner. There are one or two things that have never been made quite clear to your understanding. We do not expect you to be too clear-sighted at your time of life, and so on. Come in, then I may have a word with you. Christopher, with a little thrill of fear, once more entered the sacred den, and there stood as usual while his father sat and regarded him with a lightsome smile. One of the many causes which had long been at work to impair the young man's filial affection was that his father behaved as if it were not worthwhile to be in earnest with him, as if Kitt Sharp had a mind no riper than just to afford amusement to mature and busy intellects. Christopher knew his own depth, and was trying to be strong, too, whenever he could think of it, and if he did spend most of his time in sport and congenial pastime, of one thing he was certain, that he never did harm to anyone, could his father say that much for himself? Ah, my boy! Ah! said the elder Sharp, in that very same vein which always so annoyed and vexed his son. What will you give me for a little secret, a sweet little secret about a young lady in whom you take the deepest interest? The ingenious youth, in spite of all efforts, could not help blushing deeply, for he had a purely candid skin, reproduced from piper ancestry, and the sense of hot cheeks made him glow to the vital centers of the nobler stuff, therefore he scraped with his toes, which was a trick of his, and kept silence. Pocker money gone again, continued his father pleasantly, nothing to offer as kind papa for the most valuable information? Courting is an expensive business, I ought to have remembered that, and the younger the parties, the more it costs. Not house, flowers, and a smelling bottle, a trifle of a ring, just to learn the size, that being accepted the bolder brooch, charmed bracelet, and locket for the virgin heart, no wonder you are short of cash, my kid. You don't know one atom about it, cried Christopher boiling with Meritoria's wrath. I never gave her nothing, and she wouldn't have it, the double negative, to be sure. How forcible and how natural it is. Oh, well, my boy, let us try to believe you. Scanner all doubts by exhibiting your wealth. You had five pounds and ten shillings, lately, and you paid nothing for anything that can be placed to your father's credit. Let me see your cash-box kit. This is all that I have at present, so Christopher pulling out his three and six pence, for he had given the guard a shilling. But you must not suppose that this is all to which I am entitled. I have IOUs from junior members of the university for really more than I can reckon up, and every one of them will get the money from his sisters in the long vacation. Oh, kit, kit! The firm ends with me. I must sell the goodwill for the very worst old song. If it once leaks out, what a fool you are! What strange cross of reckless blood can such a boy be the future head of Piper Pepper Sharpe and company? Piper Sharpe covered up his long clear head and hid for this once true emotion. Kit looked at the kerchief with a very queer glance. He was not at all affected by this lamentation, however just, because he had heard it so often before, and he never could make out exactly how much of him his father could manage to describe through that veil palladian. Well, sir, he said, you have always told me, as long as I can remember, that I was to be a gentleman, and gentlemen trust one another. Very well said, Mr. Sharpe replied with a deeply irritating smile, and now I will trust you, young sir, in a matter of importance. Remember that I trust you as a gentleman, for I need not tell you one word unless I choose, and if I depart from my usual practice, it is partly because you are beginning to claim a sort of maturity. Very well, let us see if it can be relied upon. You pledge your word to keep silence, and I tell you what you never could find out. Kit was divided with his mind entwined, whether he should draw the sharp falchion of his wit, or whether he should rather speak honeysome words, and as nearly always happens when Minerva is admitted, he be took himself to the gentler process. Very well, sir, he said, pulling up his collar as if he had whiskers to push it down. Whatever I am told in confidence is allowed to go no further. It is scarcely necessary for me to say that I reserve, of course, the final rite of reference to my honour, to be sure, and to your ripe judgment and almost patriarchal experience, Kit, and it be known to you, aged youth, that you have not shown horus agacity. You do not even know who the lady is whom you have honoured with your wise addresses. And I don't care a darn who she is, cried Kit, so long as I love her and she loves me. My son, you are turbulent and hasty, your wisdom has left you suddenly, your manners also, or you would not swear in the presence of your father. Sir, I was wrong, and I beg your pardon, but I think that I learned the first way of it from you. Kit, Kit, recall that speech. You have gone all together dreaming lately, my discourse is always moderate and to the last degree professional, however in spite of the generous impulse, which scarcely seems natural at your three score years and ten, it does seem needful precaution to learn the name, style, and title of the lady whom you will vow to love, honour, and obey. Her name, cried Kit, without any sense of legal phrase and jingle, is Grace Holland. Her style is a great deal better than anybody else's, and as for title such rubbish is unknown in the gigantic young nation to which she belongs. Her name, said Mr. Sharpe setting his face for conquest of this boy and fixing keen hard eyes upon him, is Grace Oglander, the daughter of the old squire of Peckley. Her style, in your sense of the word, is that of a rustic young lady and her title, by courtesy, is miss, a barbarous modern abbreviation. The youth was at first too much amazed to say a word, for he was not quick-witted, as his father was. He gave a little gasp, and his fine brown eyes, which he could not remove from his father's, changed their expression from defiance, to doubt, and from doubt, to fear, and from fear, to sorrow, with a little dawning of contempt. Why, my man, is this beyond your experience of life? asked Luke Sharpe, trying to look his son down, but failing, and beginning to grow uneasy. Kit's face was aflame with excitement, and his lips were trembling, but his eyes grew stern. Father, I hope you do not mean what you have said, that you are only joking with me, at any rate, that you have not known it, that you have not done it, that you have not even left, poor old Mr. Oglander, one hour. Wait, boy, wait! You know nothing about it. Who are you to judge of such matters indeed? Remember to whom you are speaking, if you please. I have done what was right, and for your sake I have done it. For my sake? Why, I never had seen the young lady before I was told that she was dead and buried, murdered, as everybody said, and the tracing of criminals was mainly left to you. I longed to help, but I knew that you despise me, and now do you mean to say that you did it? Luke Sharpe was a quick-tempered man. He had borne a great deal more than usual, and now he spoke with vast disdain. To be sure, Kit, I murder her, as is proved to such a mind as yours by the fact of her being now alive. What can I have done to have a fool for my son? And what have I done to have a rogue for a father? You may knock me down, sir, if you please, for Mr. Sharpe arose, as if that would be his next proceeding. You have always used your authority very much in that manner with me. I don't want to be knocked down, but if it will do you any good, pray proceed to it, and down I go. I declare, after all, you have got some little wit, cried the lawyer with a smile, withdrawing, and recovering self-command. I cannot be angry with a boy like you, because you know no better. Oh, here comes your mother, your excitement is a rouser. Mama, you have not the least idea what a lion you have to answer for. I'll leave him to you, my dear, soothe him, feed him, and try to find his humming-top. CHAPTER 49 I will not die like this. It is unseemly to die like this. The Reverend Thomas Hardenow was exclaiming at this very time but a few miles off. I hope I am not a coward altogether, but the ignominy is unbearable. In this den of Eumaeus, this stye of psychorax entangled in the meshes of a foul hog net, and with hogs grunt grunt for the chorus of my woes, my Prometheus class is just waiting for me at the present moment, so far as I can reckon here the climbing of the day, and I had rendered into English verses that delicious bit of chorus, with thy woes of mighty groaning mortals feel a fellow moaning, and of colchick land in dwellers, maids who never quail in a fight, and so on—how small-minded of me to forget it now—down to and springs of holy watered rivers wail thy pitiable woe, but instead of nymphs of ocean here comes that old pig again, if he could only grout up that board, which he must do sooner or later, what part of me will he begin upon? Probably this little finger, it is so white and helpless, if I could only—only move! To be eaten alive by pigs! Well, well, there is not so very much left for them. Infinitely better men have had a lower end than that. I would bend my knees, if bend them I could, to the giver of all good, that I may be insensible before the pigs begin. His plight was a very unfortunate one, but still, in the blackest veil of woe, there is sure to be some little threadbare place, from so many people having worn that veil, and even poor Hardin now had one good lookout, to wit, although he had been without food for six and twenty hours now, having been caught in the treacherous toil soon after he set his toes towards his dinner, he was not by any means in the same state in which a low church clergyman must have been. His system was so attained to fasting, and all his parts so disciplined, that cupboard was only whispered among them in a submissive manner, and even his stomach concluded sourfully that it must be Friday. On this considerable advantage, which could not last much longer, there was really little to console him, his cowardly captors not content with the rabbit net twined round him, had swathed him also in the stronger meshes of a cordic gig net, and even after that, Black George, having had the handling of his legs, and discovered the vigor of their boniness, was so impressed that he called out, I never did heckle such a watery chap, fetch a pair of they-touch-thongs tickus, same as I'll make us use for the ringing of the pigs, my lad. Whish! Can he whish with my name so pat? Viticus whispered sulkily, but he brought the unyielding thongs, wherewith the fellow and tutor of brazenose very soon had his wrists and ankles strapped, and in spite of all struggles through the live long night, as firmly as a trusset hair was he fixed. Nevertheless he could roll a little, though not very fast, because his elbows stopped him, for being of the sharpest they stuck into the ground, which was of a lomy nature. He fought with this difficulty as with every other, for a braver heart never dwelled in anybody, whether fat or lean, and he plucked up his angles from their bed of earth, whenever the limits of cord would yield. He knew all about the manufacturer of twine, so far as one not in the trade could know it, because he had got up the subject for the sake of a whip-cord of a puzzle and theocritus, but this only served to make his case the worse. For at that time on a string was made, the dressing and the facing and the thousand other rogueries make it quite impossible to tie a good knot now, and even if a strap has any leather in it, its first operation is a compromise. But at that stouter period, bind made bound, Mr. Hardenow could roll a little, but that was as much as he could do, and rolling did him very little good, except by way of exercise, because he was pulled up short so suddenly by feather-edged boarding, with a coat of tar, the place in which he was penned was most unworthy of such an occupant, it was not even the principal meal-house, or the best treasury of wash, it was not the kitchen of the tasteful pigs, or even their back kitchen, but something combining the qualities of their scullery and dustbin, but the floor was clean, and a man lying lowly so far as smell was concerned had certainly the best of the situation, in as much as all odours must ascend to the pure ether of the exalted. Hardenow knew that it was vain to roll, because the door was padlocked, and the lower end, to which he chiefly tended, had a loose board, lifted every now and then by the unringed snout of a very good old sow, pure curiosity was her motive, and no evil appetite, as her eyes might tell, she had never seen a fellow and a tutor of a college rolling, as she herself loved to do, and yet in a comparatively clumsy way, she grunted deep disapproval of his movements, and was vexed that her instructions were entirely thrown away. Oh, Linus, Linus be the cry, and let the good be conqueror! Mr. Hardenow quoted as his legs began to ache, henceforth, if I have any henceforth, how palpably shall I realise the difference between the Alendethra and the circular Conistra. In this limited place I combine the two, but without the advantages of either. I take it that whether of horse, or hand, or human being the essential condition of revolutionary employment is that the limbs be free, in my case, they are not free, the exhilaration which would ensue, and of which, if I remember rightly, Pliny speaks, or is it alien, my memory seems to be rolling too, but the authority what it will, in my case that exhilaration is, at least for the moment, not forthcoming, but I ought to condemn myself far rather than riders who treat of a subject with the gravity of authority, that is to say, if they ever tried it. Experimentum, in corpore villi, is what all riders have preferred, if their own bodies were not too noble, what powerful impress they might have left. After such a cynical delivery as this it served him practically right to hit, in the course of revolution, upon a bit of bone, even harder than his own, a staunch piece of noble old ossification, whether herbivorous, carnivorous, or omnivorous dragon, such as would have brought Professor Bucklin from Christchurch headlong, or even Professor Owen from the British Museum, the Melampus of all good dragons. Hard now knew nothing about it except that it ran into him, and jerked him in such a way over the ground that he got into the highest corner, and gladly would have rubbed himself, if good hemp had yielded room for it, but this sad blow which seemed at first the buffet of the third and crowning billow of his woe, proved to be a blessing in disguise. In as much as the reaction impelled him to a spot where he described some encouragement to work, and a little encouragement was enough for him, by virtue of inborn calmness, long classical training in memories, and pure Anglo-Catholic discipline, the young man was still as fresh as paint, in a trouble which would have exhausted the vigor of a far more powerful and fiery man. Russell Overshoot, for instance, even in his best health, would have worn his wits out long ago by futile wrath and raving hunger. Mr. Hard now could not even guess how there came to be quite a thick cluster of pretty little holes, of about the size of a swan's quill, drilled completely through the board against which his mishap had driven him. The board was a stoutish slab of larch, cut feather-edged, and the saw having struck upon most of these holes obliquely, their form was elliptic instead of round, and their axes not being at right angles to the board they attracted no attention by admitting light, since the light of course entered obliquely, in some parts as close as the holes of a colander, in other places scattered more widely. They jotted the plank for nearly a yard of its length, and afforded a fine specimen of the penetra of powers of a colony of cirrics, gigus, so often mistaken for the hornet. But though as to their efficient cause he could form no opinion, Hard now hoped that their final cause might be to save his life, which he quietly believed be in great peril, for he knew that he lay in the remote obscurity of a sad and savage wood, unvisited by justice, trade, or benefit of clergy, here if no good spirit came or unseen genius to release him, die he must at his own leisure, which would be a long one, and he could discover no moral to be read from his prehistoric skeleton, unless it were that very low one sticked the dion business. A man of ordinary mind would not have troubled his head about this, post-made deluvium, is the strengthening sentiment of this age, no fulcrum whatever, for any good work, and the death of all immortality. Hard now would have none of that. He had no idea of leaving Ash's fit to nourish nothing, collecting his energies for a noble protest against having lived altogether in vain. He brought his feathered heels, like a double-headed hammer, as hard as his probabilistic swing could whirl, against the very thickest crowded sows of bygone domicile. The wooden shed rang, and the upright shook, and the nose of the sow at the lower end was jarred, and her feelings hurt, for truly speaking her motives had been misunderstood, and if Hard now had but kept pigs of his own, he would have gone to work down there, to help her, and so perhaps have got her to release him from his toils. Everybody, however, must be allowed to go at work in his own way, and to find fault with him when he tries to do his best, is, as all critics own, alike ungraceful and ungracious. Mr. Hard now worked right hard, as he always did at everything, and his heels had their spare-balls as good as new, and capable of calcitration, though he wore nothing stronger than Oxford's shoes with a bow of silk ribbon on the instep. The ribbon held fast, and he kicked or rather swung his feet by a process of revolution, as bravely as if he had hestioned boots on. At the very first stroke, he had fetched out a splinter as big as the scoop of a marrow-spoon, and delivering his coupled heels precisely where the tunnels afforded target. In a quarter of an hour he had worked a good hole, and was able to refresh himself with the largeness of the outer world. Not that he could, however, skilled in rolling roll himself out of his black jail yet, for the peace punched out was only four inches wide, but that he got a very decent width, in proportion at least to the man's average view, for a clear consideration of the world outside, and what he saw now was a pretty little sight, or a peep at country scenery, for the wood just here was not so thick that a man could not see it by reason of the trees, as the Irishman forcibly observed, but a dotted slope of bush and timber widening and opening sunny reaches out of the narrow forest track. There was no house to be seen, nor cottage, nor even barn or stable, nor any moving creature except a pig or two grouting in the tufted grass, and gray-headed daws at leisure, perking and prying for the good of their home-circle. But presently the prisoner aspired a wicket gate, nearly at the bottom of the silven slope, with a little space roughly stoned before it, almost a sure sign in a neighborhood like that, of a human dwelling place inside, and when hard-nosed eyes recovering tone assured him of the existence of some moss-grown steps, for the climbing of a horse upon either side, he fell to sudden, though it may not have been strictly logical, happiness from the warm idea that there must be some of the human race not far from him. He placed his lips close to the hole which he had made, and shouted his very loudest, and then stopped a little while to watch what might come of it, and then sent forth another shout, but nothing came of it, except that the pigs pricked up their ears and looked around and grunted, and the jack-daws gave a little jerk or two, and flapped their wings but did not fly, and a soft woody echo of a fibrous texture, answered as weakly as a boy who does not know. It was pretty much what Hard now expected. He saw that the wicket gate was a long way off, three or four hundred yards, perhaps, but he did not know that his jailer, Ticcus Crips, was the man who lived inside of it. Otherwise, his sagacious mind would have yielded quiet mercy to his lungs, for Leviticus was such a cruel and cowardly blunderer that, in mere terror, he probably would have dashed grand brains out, but luckily he was far away now, and so were all other spies and villains, and only a little child, a boy or girl at the distance nobody could say which, toddled out to the wicket gate, and laid fat arms against it, and labored with impatient grunts to push it open. Having seen no one for a long time now, Hard now took an extraordinary interest in the efforts of this child. The success or failure of this little atom could not, in any way, matter to him, yet he threw its whole power of sight into the strain of the distant conflict. He made up his mind that if the child got out, he should be able to do the like. Then having most accurate introspection, so far as humanity has such gift, he feared that his mind must be a little on the wane, ere ever such weakness entered it. To any other mind the wonder would have been that this should continue to be so tough, but he hated shortcomings, and began to feel them, laying this nice question by until there should be no child left to look at. He gazed with his whole might at this little peg of a body, in the distance, toppling forward and throwing out behind the weight of its great efforts. He wondered at his own interests, as we all ought to wonder if we took the trouble, this little peg, now in battle with the gate, was a solid peg in earnest, a fine little crypts, about five years old. As firm as if just turned out of a churn, she was backward in speech, as all the crypts is are, and she rather stared forth her ideas than spoke them. But still, let her once get a settlement concerning a thing that must be done to carry out her own ideas, and in her face might be seen once for all, that stop she never would till her own self had done it. Hard now could not see any face, but he felt quite assurity of sturdiness, from the solid mold of attitude. At heavy gate, standing stiffly on its heels, groaned obsteparously, and gibbed at the unripe passion of this little maid, it banged her chubby knees and bruised her warded hand, and it even bestowed a low cowardly buffet upon her expressive and determined cheek. And while she lamented this wrong, and allowed want of judgment to kick out at it, unjust it may have been, but true it is, that she received a still worse visitation. The forefoot of the gate, which was quite shaky and rattlesome in its joints, came down like a skittle pin upon her little toes, which were only protected on a Sunday. "'O to toy, o to toy!' cried Mr. Hardenow, with a thrilling gush of woe, as if his own toes were undergoing it, better yet truly just, lamentation awoke all the echoes of the woods and hills, and Hardenow thought that it was all up, now, that this small atom of the wooded world would accept her sad fate and run to tell her mother. But no, this child was a carrier's niece, and a man's niece, under some law of the Lord, untraced by acephalus progeny, takes after him oftentimes in a great deal closer than his own beloved daughter does. Whether or no, here was the little animal, as obstinate as the very carrier, taught by adversity she did thus. Against the gate-post she settled her most substantial availability, and exerted it, and spared it not. Therewith she raised one solid leg and spread the naked foot thereof, while her lips were as firm as any toe of all the lot, against the vile thing that had knocked her about and the power that was contradicting her. Nothing could withstand this fixed resolution of one of the far more resolute moiety of humanity. With a creak of surrender the gate gave back, and out came little Peggy Crips, with a broad face glowing with triumph, which suddenly fell into a length of terror as the vindictive gate closed behind her. To get out had been a great labor, but to get back was an impossibility, and Hardenow, even so far away, could interpret the jester of despair and horror. Poor little thing! How I wished that I could help her, he said to himself, and very soon began to think that mutual aid might, with proper skill, be compassed. With this good idea he renewed his shouts, but offered them in a more insinuating form, and being now assured that the child was female, his capacious mind framed a brief appeal to the very first instinct of all female life, possibly therefore the fairer half of pig and doll creation appropriated with pleasure his address, at any rate, although the child began to look around she had no idea once came the words, Pretty little dear, little beauty, etc., with which the learned prisoner was endeavouring to allure her, but at last by a very great effort and with pain Hardenow managed to extract from the nets his white cravat, or rather his cravat which had been white, when it first hung down his back from the talon clasp of the hollies. By much contrivance and ingenious rollings he brought out a pretty good wisp of white, and hoisted it bravely between scythed feet, and at the little breach displayed it, and the soft breath of May which was wandering about came an uncrinkled, and in little tatters waved the universal symbol of succession, apesolical, as well as dinner parties. Little Peggy happened at this moment to be staring with a loose uncertain glimpse of thought that somebody somewhere was calling her, by the flutter of the white cravat, her wandering eyes were caught at last and fixed for a minute of deliberate growth of wonder, not a step towards that dreadful white ghost which she budged, but a steadfast idea was implanted in her mind, and was likely to come up very slowly. It is a waste of time! I have lost half an hour! The poor little thing! I have only scared her! Now, let me think what I ought to do next! But even while he addressed himself to that very difficult problem, hard now began to feel that he could not grapple with it. His mind was as clear as ever, but his bodily strength was failing. He had often fasted for a longer time, but never with his body invested thus, and all his members straightened. The little girl sank from his weary eyes, though he longed to know what would become of her, and he scarcely had any perception at all of pigs that were going on after their manner, and rabbits quite ready for their early dinner. The moment the sun began to slope, and a fine cock partridge who, in his way, was proud, because his wife had now laid a baker's dozen of eggs, and but for his dissuasion would begin to sit to-morrow, and after that a round-nosed hair, with a feel-o-progentative forehead, but no clear idea yet of leverance. And after that, as the shadows grew long, a cart, drawn by a horse, as cart seemed always to demand that they shall be, the horse of a strong and incisive stamp, to use the two pet words of the day, the cart not so very far behind him there, as it gave word to stop the gate to one another, and in the cart, and above the cart, and driving both it and the horse thereof, as Abraham drove on the plain of Mamre, Zachary Cripps, and, sitting at his side, the far-traveled and accomplished Esther. CHAPTER FIFTY FEMININ ERROR Meanwhile, at Cross-Duck House, ever since that interview of the morning, things were becoming, from hour to hour, more critical and threatening. If Mr. Sharp could only have believed that his son was now a man, or at least, should have been treated as though he were, and if after that the two active lawyer could only have conceived it possible that some things might go on all the better without him, it is likely enough that his righteous and gallant devices would have sped more easily. But Luke Sharp had governed his own little world so long that he scarcely could imagine serious rebellion, and he cared not to hide his large contempt for the intellect of Christopher, or the grievance which he had always felt, at being the father of a donkey, and so, without further probation or pledge, he went forth to make his own arrangements, leaving young Kit to his mother's charge, like a dummy, to be stroked down and dressed. If he had left Kit but an hour before for his mother to tell him everything, and round the corners and smooth the levels and wrap it all up in delicious romance, as women do so easily, with their power of believing whatever they wish, the boy might have jumped at the soft, sweet bait, for he verily loved his sylvan maid. But now, all his virtue, and courage, and even temper, were on the outlook, and only one thing more was needed to drive him to a desperate resolve, and that one thing was supplied in the purest innocence by Mrs. Sharp, though the question would never have arisen if her son had been left to her soul handling. Then mother, I suppose, said Kit as simply as if he smelled no rat whatever, thoroughly as he understood that race, if I should be fortunate enough to marry beautiful Miss O'Glander, we shall have to live on bread and cheese until it shall please the senior people to be reconciled, and help us. No, Kit, what are you talking of, child? The lady has twenty thousand pounds of her own, and one hundred fifty thousand pounds to follow, which nobody can take from her. With a very heavy heart he turned away, nothing more was required to settle him. He saw the whole business of the plotting now, and the young romance was out of it. He went to the bow window, looking on the lane, and felt himself akin to a little ragamuffin who was cheating all the other boys at Marbles. Hard bitterness and keen misery were battling in his mind which should be the first to have its way and speak. This comes of being a lawyer's son, he cried turning around for one bad glance at his mother. She said that she disliked the law. I don't dislike. I abhor it. So you may, my dear boy, and welcome now. This will lift you all together beyond it. Your dear father may consider it his duty to continue the office, and so on, but you will be a country gentleman, Kit, with horses, and dogs, and manton guns, and a pack of hounds, and a long barouche, and hot-house grapes. And I will come and live with you, my darling, or at least make our country house of it, and show you how to manage things, for the whole world will be trying to cheat you, Kit. You are too good-natured and grand in your ways. You must try to be a little sharper, darling, with that mint of money. Must I? But suppose that I won't have it. Sometimes I believe that you think it mainly to provoke your mother. The money ought to have been ours, Kit, mined by heritage and justice. At least a year and a half ago, a moderate provision should have been made for a woman who may have her good points, though everybody has failed to discover them, and who married with a view to jointure. Ten thousand pounds would have been very handsome, far handsomer than she ever was, poor thing. And then, by every law, human and divine, all the rest must have come to you and me, my dear. Now, I hope that you see things in their proper light. Well, I dare say I do, he answered, with a little turn of sulkiness, such as he often got when people could not understand him. Mother, you will allow me to have my own opinion as you have yours? Certainly, Kit, of course, my dear. You know that you always have been allowed extraordinary liberty in that way? No boy in any school could have more, even where all noblemen's sons are allowed to make apple pie beds for the masters. Every night, my dear boy, when your father was away, it was rested with you, and you cannot deny it, to settle to a nicety what there must be for supper. Such trumpery stuff is not worth a thought. I am now like a fellow divided in two. You might guess what I am about a little. It is high time for me to come forward. You cannot see things, perhaps, as I do. How often must I tell you? I give you my word as a gentleman. All this is exceedingly trying. Of course it is, Kit, of course it is. What else could be expected of it? But still we must all of us go through trials. And then we come out, purified. Not if we make them for ourselves, mother, and made them particularly dirty ones. But I cannot talk of it. What do I know? A lot of things come tempting me. Everybody laughs at me for wondering what my mind is. And everybody cheats me, as you said. Let the Governor carry on his own devices. I have made up my mind to consider a good deal, and behave, then, according to circumstances. You will behave, I trust, exactly as your parents wish. They have seen so much more of the world than you have. They are far better judges of right and wrong, and their only desire is your highest interest. You will break your poor mother's heart, dear Kit, if you do anything foolish now. The latter argument had so much more weight with young Sharp than the former, but pledging himself as yet to nothing, he ran away to his own room to think, while his mother with serious misgivings went down to see about the soup and hurry on the dinner. She knew that in vaunting Miss O'Glander's wealth she had done the very thing she was ordered not to do, and she was frightened at the way in which her son had taken it. Mr. Sharp did not come home to their early dinner at half past one o'clock, indeed his wife did not expect him much, and his son was delighted not to see him. Kit sat heavily, but took his food as usual. A condition of his mind might be very sad indeed, but his body was not to be driven thereby to neglect the duties of its own department. He helped his dear mother to some loin of mutton, and when she only played with it, and her knife and fork were trembling, he was angered, and his eyes sought hers, and she tried to look at him and smile, but made a wretched job of it. Christopher reserved his opinion about this, but it did not help in any way to impair his resolution. For dessert they had a little dish of strawberries from pot plants in the greenhouse, and as they were the first of the season the young fellow took to them rather greedily. His mother was charmed with his condescension, and urged him so well that in about three minutes the shining red globes ticked with gold were represented by a small ignoble pile of frilled stalks blurred with pink. At this moment in walked the master of the house. He had been as fully occupied as a certain unobtrusive but never inactive gentleman, proverbially must be in a gale of wind. The day was unusually warm for the May month, and the streets of Oxford dusty, Mr. Sharp had been working a roundabout course and working it very rapidly. He had managed a snatch at a sandwich or two, for he could not go long without nourishment, but throughout all his haste he had given himself with the brightest vision of refreshing joy, just time to catch these strawberries. At least he was sure of it, but now where were they? I see you know how to snap up a good thing! cried the lawyer with a glance of contempt and wrath. Show the same promptitude in what has been unbranged for your benefit this afternoon, my boy, and then you will be and earnest what you put on your dog's collars. This was not the way to treat Kit Sharp, but the lawyer never could resist a sneer, even when his temper was at its best, which it certainly was not just now. Kit looked a little ashamed for a moment, but made no excuse for his greediness. He was sure that his mother would do that best. By this time he had resolved to avoid, for the present, all further dispute with his father. Whatever was arranged for him he would do his best to accept, with one condition, that he should be allowed to see the young lady first, and test her good will towards him, before her removal, as Mr. Sharp mildly called it, was attempted. His sanguine young heart had long been doing its utmost to convince him that his sweet tempered and simple maid could never bring herself to the terrible cruelty of rejecting him. He felt how unworthy he was, but still so was everybody else, especially the villain with the four-bay horses. From that scoundrel he would save her, even if he had to dissemble more than he had ever done before. Luke Sharp, with his eyes fixed on his son in lofty contemplation, beheld, as through a grand microscope, these despicable little reasonings. To argue with Kit was more foolish than filing a declaration against a man of straw, to suppose that Kit would ever really rebel, was more absurd than to imagine that a case would be decided upon its merits. So be it, he said. But of course, even you would never be quite such a fool as to tell her which our father and mother have done for her good. There still was a little to be done, and some nicety of combination to see to. And after a short consultation with his wife, the particular instructions as to management of Kit, Mr. Sharp rode off on his own stout horse, with a heavily loaded whip and abrasive pistols, because there were some rogues about. CHAPTER XVI At seven o'clock all must be ready, said Mr. Sharp towards the clothes of a hurried conversation with Miss Patch, Grace O'Glander being sent out of the way, according to established signal, there is no time to lose, and no lady's tricks of unpunctuality, if you please. We must have daylight for these horrid forest roads, and time it so as to get into the London Road about half past eight. We must be in London by two in the morning. The horses and all that will be forthcoming. Kit rides outside, and I follow an horse back. Anna, why do you hesitate? Because I cannot, I cannot go away without having seen that Jesuit priest in the pig-net wallowing. It is such a grand providential work. The arm of the Lord has descended from heaven and bound him in his own meshes. Luke, I beg you, I implore you, I can pack up everything in an hour. Do not rob me of a sight like that. Hannah, are you mad? You have never been allowed to go near that place, and you never shall. Well, you know best, but it does seem very cruel, after all the lack of Grace I have born with here, to miss the great Protestant work thus accomplished. But suppose that the child should refuse to come with us. We have no letters now, nor any other administration. We have no time now for such trumpery. We must carry things now with a much higher hand. Everything hangs upon the next few hours. And by this time, to-morrow night, all shall be safe. Kit and the girl gone for their honeymoon, and you sitting under the most furious dustman that ever thumped a cushion. Oh, Luke, how can you speak as if you really had no reverence? Because there is no time for such stuff now. We have the strength and we must use it. Just go and get ready. I must ride to meet my people. A girl, I suppose, is with Kit by this time. What a pair of nincompoops they will be. I am sure they will be a very pretty pair, so far as poor sinful exterior goes. And what is of a thousandfold more importance, their worldly means, will be the means of grace to hundreds of our poor fellow-creatures, who, because their skin is of a different tint in their own opinion, a finer one, are debarred. Now, Hannah, no time for that. Get ready. In mind that there must be no feminine weakness of circumstances to compel us to employ a little compulsion. Call to your mind that the Lord is with us, the sword of the Lord and of Gideon. Pleased with his knowledge of holy writ he went to the place where his horse was tied, and there he found a man with a message for him, which he just stopped to hearken. As lovin' as a pair of turtle-doves he hath a got her by the middle, as sweet as my misses were to me a forest went to church together. Black George had been sent to watch Kit and Gracie during their private interview, lest any precaution should be overlooked. Right. Here's a guinea for you, my man. Now, you know what to do till I come back. To stay where you are and keep a sharp lookout, can the fool not do without any water? Very well, after dark give him some food, binge his eyes and walk him to and fro, and let him go and banbury. All right, Governor, a rare bait he shall have of it, with a little swim and a canal to climb on. No hardship, no cruelty, cried Mr. Sharp with his finger to his forehead, as he rode away, only a little wise discipline to lead him into closer attention to his own affairs. Black George looked after his master with a grin of admiration. He sticked at North, said George to himself, as he began to fill a grimy pipe. He sticked at North no more than I would, with all that house the lands to back him. Most folk with money got no pluck left for thinking of others as oneth the same. I'll be danged if he doesn't carry on as bold as if he slept in a rabbit hole, with these words he sat down to watch the house, according to his orders. But this man's description of what he had seen in the wood was not a correct one, much as he meant to speak to truth, for many reasons, and most of all this, that he ran away before the end of it. It was a pretty and moving scene, but the rabbit man cared a great deal more for the pipe, which he could not smoke in his duty, and the guinea which he hoped to get out of it, and it happened as near as one can tell on this wise. Grace O'Glander came down the winding wooded path, with her heart pit-a-patting at every step, because she was ordered to meet somebody, an idea of that kind did not please her, approved or approved. She would never wish to be, and a little bit of flirting had been a great relief, and a pleasant change in her loneliness. But to bring matters to so stern a point, and have to say what she meant to say, in as few words as possible, and then walk off, these strong measures were not to her liking, because she was a most kind-hearted girl, and had much good will towards Christopher. Kit, on the other hand, came along fast, with a resolute brow and firm heavy stride. He had made up his mind to be wretched for life, if the heart upon which he had set his own should refuse to throb responsively, but whatever his fate might be he would tread the highest path of generosity, chivalry, and honor, and this resolution was well set forth in the following nervous pathetic lines, found in his blotting-paper after his untimely but stay, let us not anticipate. These words had been watered with a flood of tears. C. F. S., to Miss G. O., say that happier mortal woes thee, say that nobler night pursues thee, while this blighted being teareth, all the festive robes it weareth, while this dead heart splits to loose thee. Ah, could I so misuse thee? Though this bosom rent by thunder, crash its last hope anchored in thee, they for what I grown thereunder, then by falsehood win thee. And now they met in a gentle place, roofed with leaves and floored with moss, and decorated with bluebells. The chill of the earth was gone by and forgotten, and the power of the sky come back again, stately tree and graceful bush and brown depths of tangled prickliness, everything having green life in it, was spreading its green and proud of it. Under this roof and in these halls of bright young verdure, the youth and maid came face to face befittingly. Grace as bright as a rose and flushing with true tint of wild rose, drew back and bowed, and then, perceiving serious hurt of Christopher, kindly offered a warm, white hand, a delicious touch for any one. It laid hold of this and kept it, though with constant fear of doing more than was established, and trying to look firm and overpowering, led the fair young woman to a trunk of fallen oak. Here they both sat down, and Grace was not so far as she could wish from yielding to a little kind of trembling which arose in her. She glanced a kit sideways, whenever she felt that he could not be looking at her, and she kept her wise eyes mainly downward, whenever they seemed to be wanted, not that she could not look up and speak, only that she would rather wait until there was no other help for it, and as for that, she felt no fear, being sure that he was afraid of her. Kit, on the other hand, was full of fear, and did all he could in the craftiest matter to make his love look up at him. He could not tell how she might take his tail, but he knew by instinct that his eyes would help him where his tongue might fail. At last he said, Now, will you promise faithfully not to be angry with me? Oh, yes, oh yes, to be sure, said Grace. Why should I be angry? Because I can't help it. I give you my honour. I have tried very hard, but I cannot help it. Then who could be angry with you unless it was something very wicked? It is not very wicked. It is very good. Too good for me. A great deal, I am afraid. There cannot be many things too good for you. You are simple, and brave, and gentle. But this is too good for me ever so much, because it is your own dear self. Grace was afraid that this was coming, and now she lifted her soft blue eyes and looked at him quite tenderly, and yet so directly and clearly that he knew in a moment what she had for him. Pity, and trust, and liking, but of heart's love not one atom. I know what you mean, he whispered sadly with his bright young face cast down. I cannot think what can have made me such a fool, only please to tell me one thing. Has there been any chap in front of me? How can I tell what you mean? asked Grace. But her colour showed that she could guess. I must not ask who it is, of course. Only say it's not the swell that drives the four bay horses. I do not know anyone that drives four bay horses, and now I think that I had better go, only as I cannot ever meet you any more. I must try to tell you that I like you very much, and never shall forget what I owe to you, and I hope you will very soon recover from this little disappointment, and my dear father, as soon as we return to England, for I must go to fetch him. Grace! Oh, let me call you Grace once or twice. It can't matter here in the middle of the wood. Grace, I was so taken up with myself and full of my miserable folly, which, of course, I ought to have known better. I must not stop to hear any more. There is my hand. Yes, of course, you may kiss it, after all that you have done for me. I'm going to do a great deal more for you, cried Kit, quite carried away with the yielding kindness of lovely fingers. For your sake, I'm going to injure and disgrace my own father, though the Lord knows the shame is of his own making. It is my father who has kept you here, and to-night he is going to carry you off. Ms. Patch is only a tool of his. Your own father knows not a word about it. He believes you to be dead and buried. Your tombstone is set up at Beckley, and your father goes and cries over it. But his letters. His letters from Demirara. My head swims round. Let me hold by this tree for a moment. Kit threw his arm around her delicate ways to save her from falling, and away crept George, who had lurked behind a young birch tree too far off to hear their words. You must rouse up your courage, said Kit, with a yearning gaze at his sweet burden, yet taking no advantage of her. Rouse up your courage, and I will do my best to save you from myself. It is very hard. It is cruelly cruel, and nobody will thank me. His letters from Demirara, cried Grace, having scarcely heard a word, he said. How could he have written them? You must be wrong. Of such letters I have never heard. I suppose they must have been forgeries. I give you my word that your father has been the whole time at Beckley, and a great deal too ill to go from home. Too ill? My father? Yes. Of course. Of course. How could he help being ill without me? And he thinks that I'm dead. He thinks that I'm dead. I wonder that he could dare to be alive. But let me try to think a little. She tottered back to the old stump of a tree, and sat down there, and burst forth into an extraordinary gush of weeping. More sad and pitiful tears had never been watered on innocent face before. Let me cry. Let me cry. Was her only answer when the young man clumsily tried to comfort? Kit got up and strode about, his indignation at her deep, low sobs, and her brilliant cheeks like a river's bed, and her rich hair dabbled like drifted corn, and above all the violent pain which made her lay both hands to her heart and squeeze. His wrath made him long to knock down people entitled to his love and reverence. He knew that her heart was quite full of her father and all his long desolation, and was making a row of pictures of him in deepening tribulation, but a girl might go on like that forever. A man must take the lead of her. If you please, Miss O'Glander, he said, going up and lifting both her hands and making her look up at him, you have scarcely five minutes to make up your mind whether you wish to save your father, or to be carried away from him. Grace and confusion and fear looked up, all about herself she had forgotten. She had even forgotten that Kit was near. She was only pondering slowly now, as the mind at most critical moments does, some straw of a trifle that blew across. Do you care to save your father's life? Ask Kit rather sternly not seeing in the least the condition of her mind, but wondering at it. If you do, you must come with me this moment down the hill, down the hill as fast as ever you can. I know a place where they can never find us. We must hide there till dark, and then I will take you to Beckley. But the young lady's nerves would not act at command. The shock and surprise had been too severe. All she could do was to gaze at Kit, with soft, imploring eyes that tried to beg pardon for her helplessness. If we stay here another minute, you are lost, right Kit, as he heard the sound of the carriage-wheels near the cottage, on the rise above them. One question only, will you trust me? She moved her pale lips to say yes, and faintly lifted one hand to him, Kit waited for no other sign but caught her in his sturdy arms and bore her down the hill as fast as he could go, without scratching her snow-white face or tearing the arm which hung on his shoulder. CHAPTER 52 UNPETERNAL Meanwhile Mr. Sharpe had his forces ready, and was waiting for Grace and Christopher, Sinimeta's good-uncle Kershaw, who spent half of his useful time in stealing horses, and the other half in disguising and disposing of them, although he might not have desired to show himself so long before the moonlight, yet, true to honor, here he was, blinking beneath a three-cornered hat, like a grandly respectable coachman. The carriage was drawn up in a shady place, quite out of sight from the windows, and the horses having very rare experience of oats, were embracing a fine opportunity, in picturesque attitudes of tobacco-nising, if the depth of the wood covers barbarism, three fine fellows might now be seen, to wit, Black George, Joe Smith, and that substantial householder, Ticus Cripps. In the chase sat a lady of comfortable aspect, though fidgeting now with fat, well-gloved hands. Mrs. Sharpe had begged not to have to stop at home and wonder what might be doing with her own kit, and the case being now one of neck or nothing, her husband had let her come, for seeing that she might be of use with Grace O'Glander. For the moment, however, she looked more likely to need attendance for herself, for she kept glancing round towards the cottage door, while her plump and still comely cheeks were twitching, and tears of deep thought about the merits of her son held her hard and quick readiness to be up and help them. Once Mr. Sharpe, whose main good point, among several others, was affection for his wife, rode up, and in a playful manner tickled her nose with the buckskin loop of his loaded whip, and laughed at her. She felt how kind it was of him, but her smile was only feeble. Now, mind, dear! said Mr. Sharpe, reigning his horse, as strong as an oak and as bright as a daisy. Feel no anxiety about me. You have plenty of nourishment in your three bags, keep them all alive with it. Everything is mapped out perfectly. Near Wike home, without rousing any landlord, you have a fresh pair of horses, in a desert place called the New Road in London. I meet you and take charge of you. Make it, have his pipe on the box. I am sure it will make him go much sweeter. Fifty, if he likes. You put a seal-skin pouch in. You think of everyone before yourself. But can I get on with that dreadful woman? Don't you think she will preach me to death, Luke? Miranda, my dear, you are talking loosely. You forget the great gift that you possess. The noblest endowment of the nobler sex. You can sleep whenever you like, and do it without even a suspicion of a snore. It is the very finest form of listening. Goodbye. You will be a most happy party. When once I see you packed, I shall spur on in front. Mr. Sharpe kissed his hand and rode back to the cottage. Right well he knew what a time ladies take to put their clothes upon them, and the more grow the years of their practice than the art, the longer grow the hours needful. Still he thought Miss Patch had been quite long enough, but what could he say when he saw her at her window, with the looking glass sternly set back upon the drawers, lifting her hands in short prayer to the Lord? As genuine a prayer as was ever tried, she was praying for a blessing on this new adventure, and that all might lead up to the glory of the kingdom. She besought to be relieved at last from her wearing instrumentality. Mr. Sharpe still had some little faith left, for he was a man of much good feeling, and he did not scoff at his sister's prayer, as a man of low nature might have done. Now, the less he struck up with his whip at the ivy around her bedroom window to impress the need of brevity, and the lady, though shocked at the suggestion of curtailment, did curtail immediately, in less than five minutes she was busy at the doorway, seeing to the exit of everything, and presently, with very pious precision, she gave Mrs. Marjorie Daw half a crown, an attract which some friend should read to her, after rubbing her hands with a rind of bacon, and a worn-out pocket handkerchief, which had belonged to the mighty Roland Hill, whose voice went three miles and a half. Then Miss Patch, with her dress tucked up in her spectacles at their brightest, marched with a copy of the scriptures borne prominently forward, and the tags of her cloak doubled up on her arm, towards the carriage, where grace must be waiting for her. The sloping of the sunset through her shadow, and the ring-dubs in the wood were cooing. The peace and the beauty touched even her heart, and the hushing of the winds of evening in the nestling of the wood appeased the ruffled mind to that simplicity of childhood, where God and good are one. But just as she was shaking hands benevolently with Mrs. Sharp, before getting into the carriage, back rode Mr. Sharp at full gallop, and without any ceremony shouted, Where's the girl? Miss O'Glander? Why, I thought she was here. Hannah Patch answered with a little gasp, And I thought she was coming with you. cried Mrs. Sharp, As well as my dear boy, Christopher, I let her go to meet him as you arranged. Miss Patch exclaimed decisively, I had nothing to do with her after that. Is it possible that the boy has roged me? As Mr. Sharp said these few words, his face took a color never seen before, even by his loving wife. The color was a livid purple, and it made his sparkling eyes look pale. They must be at the cottage, Mrs. Sharp suggested. Let me go look for the naughty young couple. A lawyer had his reasons for preventing this, as well as for keeping himself where he was, and therefore at a sign from him Miss Patch turned back and set off with all haste for the cottage. No sooner had she turned the corner than Joe Smith, the tall gypsy, and merged from the wood with long strides into the road, and beckoned to Mr. Sharp urgently. A lawyer was with him in a moment, and almost struck him in his fury at what he heard. How could you allow it? You great tinkering fool! Run to the corner where the two lanes meet. Take George with you. I'll ride straight down the road. No, stop. Cut the traces of those two horses. You jump on one and black George on the other, and off for the corner full gallop. You ought to be there before the cart. I will ride straight for the rotten old jolter. Sounds as one man to beat five of us. Waiting for no answer he struck spurs into his horse, and stooping over the withers, dashed into a tangled alley which seemed to lead towards the timber track. No wonder Mr. Sharp was in such a rage. For what had happened was exactly this. Only much of it happened with more speed than words. Crips, the carrier, had been put up by several friends and relations, especially Numbers the Butcher, who missed the pork trade of Leviticus, to bring things directly to a point instead of letting them go on, in a way which was neither one thing nor the other. Confessing all the claims of duty poor Zachary only asked how he could discharge them. He had done his very best, and he had found out nothing. If anyone could tell him what more to do, he would wear out his Sunday shoes to thank them. Brother Zach! said Mrs. Numbers with a feeling which, in a less loyal family, would have been contempt. Have you set a woman to work now, have you? Every Crips present was struck with this, and the most of all the carrier. Mrs. Numbers herself was quite ready to go, but a feud had arisen betwixt her and Susanna as to whether three-hold or four-hold buttons cut the cotton faster, and therefore the carrier resolved to take his own sister, Eddie, who never quarreled. It was found out that she required change of air, and indeed she had been rather delicate ever since her long, sad task it shot over. Now, Leviticus Durst not refused to receive her, much as he disliked the plan. The girl went without any idea of playing spy. All she knew was that her brother was suspected of falling into low company, and she was to put him on his metal, if she could. Hence it was that hard now, gazing betwixt the two feather-edged boards, beheld, just before he lost his wits, the honored vehicle of Crips, with empty washing-basket standing, on its welcome homeward road, to discharge the fair Eddie at her brother's gate. Ticcus was away upon Mr. Sharp's business in Zachary, through a grand sense of honor, would not take advantage of the chance by going in. Craft and wickedness might be in full play with them, but a wife should on no account be taken on a wares, and tempted to speak outside her duty. Therefore the carrier kissed his sister in the soft gleam of the sunset clouds, and, refusing so much as a glass avail, touched up Dobbin with a tickle of the whip, and that excellent nag, after looking round for oats and a dream, which his common sense, premise, to be too sanguine, brushed all his latter elegances with his tail, and fetching round his blinkers a most sad adieu to Esther, gave a little grunt at fortune and resignedly set off, when he grunted at a light day's work, how little did he guess what unparalleled exertions parted him yet from his stable for the night. For while Master Crips, with an equable mind, was jogging it gently on the silent way, and thinking how lonely his cottage would be without Esther, was balancing in his mind the respective charms of his three admirers, Mary Hookam, Mealy Hiss, and Sally Brown, of the Golden Cross, and sadly concluding that he must make up his mind to one of the three ere long. Suddenly he beheld a thing which frightened him more than a dozen wives. Crips was come to a turn of the track, for it scarcely could be called a road, and was sadly singing to Dobbin and himself that exquisite elegiac. Needles and pins, needles and pins, when a man marries his trouble begins. Dobbin also, though he had never married, was trying to keep time to this tune, as he always did to sound sentiments, when the two of them saw a sight that came like a stroke for profanity over them, directly in front of them from a thick bush, sprang a beautiful girl into the middle of the lane, and spread out her hand to stop them, if the evening light had been a little paler, or even the moon had been behind her, a ghost she must have been then, and for ever. Crips stared as if he would have no eyes any more. But Dobbin had received a great many comforts from the little hand spread out to him, and he stopped and sniffed, and lifted up his nose, now growing more decidedly aquiline, that it might be stroked and even possibly regaled with a bunch of white blossom clover. Crips! Good Crips! You dear old Crips! Grace O'Glander cried with great tears in her eyes. You never have forgotten me, Zachary Crips. They say that I am dead and buried. It isn't true, not a word of it. Dear Crips, I am as sound alive as you are. Only I have been shamefully treated. Do let me get up in your car to good Crips, and my father will thank you for ever. But Missy! Poor Missy! Crips stammered out, drawing on his heart for every word. You was buried on the seventh of January, and a year of our Lord, 1838, three pickaxes was broken over-digging of your grave by reason of the frosty weather, and all of us come to your funeral. Do you go back, Miss? That's dear. The churchyard to Beckley is a comfortable place, and this here would is no place for a Christian. But Crips, dear Crips, do try and let me speak. They might have broken 30 pickaxes, but I had nothing at all to do with it. May I get up? May I get up? It is the only chance of saving me. I hear a horse tearing through the wood. Oh, dear clever Crips, you have repented for the rest of all your life. Even Dobbin is sharper than you are. You blessed old ass! cried a stern young voice as kitsharp who had meant not to show. Rush forward. There is no time for your heavy brain to work. You shall have the young lady dead or alive. Pardon me, Grace. No help for it. Now, the cat had bumpkin. Put one arm around and off at full gallop with your old screw. If you give her up, I will hang you by the neck to the tail of your broken rattle-trap. Oh, Crips, dear Crips, I assure you are my honor. Said Grace, as tossed up by her lover, she sat on the seat of Esther. I have never been dead any more than you have. I can't tell you now. Drive on, drive. If you have a spark of manhood in you. A horse and horseman came out of the wood about fifty yards behind them, and Grace would have fallen headlong but for the half-reluctant arm of Crips. As Dobbin with a jump, quite unknown in his very first assay of harness, set off full gallop over rut and rock with a blow on his back from the fist of kit, like the tumble of a chimney-pot. Then, Christopher Sharpe, after one sad look at Grace O'Glander's flying figure, turned round to confront his father. What means all this? cried the lawyer fiercely, being obliged to rain up his horse unless he would trample kit under foot. It means this, answered his son, with a firm gaze and strong grasp of his bridle, that you have made a great mistake, sir, that you must give up your plan altogether, that the poor young lady who has been so deceived, let go my bridle will you, am I to stop here to be baffled by you? Idiot, but go my bridle. Father, you shall not, for your own sake you shall not. I may be an idiot, but I will not be a black-guard. If by the time I have counted three your hand is on my bridle I will knock you down and ride over you. Their eyes met in furious conflict of will, the elder man's glaring with the blaze of an opal, and the younger one's steady with a deep, brown glow. Strike me dead, if you choose, said Kit, as his father raised his arm with the loaded whip swinging and counted one, two, three. Then the crashing blow fell on the naked temple, and it was not needed twice. Dashing the rowls into his horse, whose knees struck the boy in the chest as he fell, and hurled him among the bushes. The lawyer, without even looking round, rode madly after Zachary. Dobbin had won a good start by this time, and was round the corner doing great wonders for his time of life, tossing the tubs in the baskets in grace and even the sturdy carrier like fritters in a pan, while the cart leapt and plunged, and the spokes of the wheels went round too fast to be counted. Cripps tugged at Dobbin with all his might, but for the first time in his life the old horse rebelled and flung on at full speed. He knoweth best, miss. He knoweth best, cried Zachary while Grace clung to him. He hath a divination of his own. If he doth not kick your cart to tatters, but never would I turn tail on a single man who is John Chap riding after us. Oh, Cripps, it is a dreadful man, whispered Grace with her teeth jerking into her tongue, who has kept me in prison, and perhaps killed my father. Oh, Dobbin, sweet Dobbin, try one more gallop, and you shall have clover for ever. Poor Dobbin responded with his best endeavor, but alas his old feet and his legs and his breath were not as in the palmy days, and a long, shambling trot with a canter for a change where the utmost he could compass. He wagged his gray tail in brief expostulation, conveying that he could go no faster. Now for it, said Cripps as the foe overhauled him, I never was a fear of one man yet, and I don't mean to begin at this time of life. Missy, go down into the body of the cart, her ride easily enough by now, and cover thee up with the bucking baskets. Cripps will take thee to thy father, little one. Never fear, my dairy. She obeyed him by jumping back into the cart, but as for hiding in a basket, Grace had a little too much of her father's spirit, and the weather was so fine that no tilt was on. She sat on the rail there and faced her bitter foe. That child is my ward! shouted Mr. Sharp, riding up to the side of Cripps while his eyes passed on from Grace's. Give her up to me this moment, fellow. I can take her by the law of the land, and I will. Liar, sharp! answered Master Cripps, desiring to address him professionally. This ear young lady belongedeth to her father, and no man else shall have her. Any reasoning thou hast to come down with? Us will harken as we goes along, but if so be that, thou keepest to a civil tongue. But I, words, never bait me down one penny, and never shall do so, while the Lord is with me. Hark, you Cripps! replied Master Sharp, putting his lips to the carrier's ear, and whispering so that Grace could only guess at enormous sums of money, which sums began doubling at every breath. Down on the nail, and no man the wiser, but the devil a great deal the wiser, said the carrier grinning gently as if he saw the power of evil fleeing away in discomforture. Now, Liar, sharp! hath thou outwitted his self? What Liar would offer such a sight of money for what were his own by the lay of the land? You cursed fool! You will die! cried Sharp, drawing and cocking a great horse pistol. Your blood be on your head, then yield! Cripps, with great presence of mind, made believe for a moment to surrender, till Mr. Sharp lowered his weapon, and came up to stop the cart, and to take out Grace. In a moment, the carrier with a wonderful stroke, learned from long whip-wielding, fetched down his new lash on the eyeball of the young and ticklish horse of the lawyer, mad with pain and rage the horse stood up as straight as a soldier drilling, and balanced on the turn to fall back, break his spine, and crush his rider, Luke Sharp and his peril slipped off, and the cartwheel comfortably crunched over his left foot. His pistol bullet whizzed through the tall old tree. He stood on one foot, and swore horribly, "'Gee-woog, Dobbin!' said Cripps in a cheerful, but not by any means excited vain. "'Us needn't gallop any more now, I reckon.' A Liar hath put his foot in it. "'Plays now, Miss Grace, come and sit to the front again. "'We shall have you yet, you darned old Claude!' Mr. Sharp and his rage yelled after him. "'Oh, I'll pay you out for this devil's own trick. You weren't come to the corner yet!' "'Oh!' shouted Cripps. "'Liar Sharp, my duty to you. You don't catch me a going to the corner, sir, if some of the firm be a-waiting for me there.' With these words he gaily struck off to the right through a by-lane unknown, but just passable, where the sound of his wheels was no longer heard, and the mossy bows closed over him. Grace clung to his arm, and glory and gladness filled the simple heart of Cripps. Meanwhile Mr. Sharp, who had stuck to his bridle, limped to his horse, but could not mount, then he drew forth the other pistol from the near holster, and cocked it and leveled it at Cripps, but thanks to brave Dobbin now the distance was too great, and he kept the charge for a nobler use. CHAPTER 53 Mr. Sharp's young horse, being highly fed and viddled for the long ride to London, and having been struck in the eye unjustly, and jarred in the brain by the roar of a pistol and the whiz of a bullet between his prick-dears, was now in a state of mind which offered no fair field for pure reasoning process. A better disposed horse was never fold, and possibly none setting Dobbin aside, as the premier and quite unapproachable type, who took a clearer view of his duties to the provider of corn, hay, and straw, and was more ready to face and undergo all proper responsibilities. Therefore he cannot be fairly blamed, and not a pound should be deducted from his warrantable value, simply because he now did what any other young horse in the world would have felt to be right. He stared all around to ask what was coming next, and he tugged on the bridle, with his four feet out, as a leverage against injustice, and his hind legs spread quite apart, like a merry thought ready to hop anywhere. At the same time he stared with great terrified eyes, now that the man who had involved him in these perils, and now at the darkening forest which might hold even worse in the background. Mr. Sharp was not in the mood for coaxing, or any conciliation. His left foot was crushed so that he could only hop, and to put it on the ground was agony. His own son had turned against him, and a contemptible clod had outwitted him, disgrace, and ruin, and death, stared at him, and here was his favorite horse a rubble. He fixed his fierce eyes and the eyes of the horse, and fairly quelled him with fury. The eyes of the horse shrank back, and turned, and trembled, and blinked, and pleaded softly, and then absolutely fawned. Being a very intelligent nag he was as sure as any sound Christian of the personality of the devil, and far worse than that of his presence now before him. He came round winning to his master's side, as gentle as a lamb, and as abject as a hangdog. He allowed the lame lawyer to pick up his whip, and to lash him on his poor back, without a wince, and to lead him, when weary of that, to a stump, from which he was able to mount again. Thank you, you devil! cried Mr. Sharp, giving his good horse another swinging lash. It is hopeless altogether to ride after the cart. That part of the play is played out and done with. The pious papa and the milk and water missy rush into each other's arms, as for me, well, well, I have learned to make a horse so bamey. Now, sir, if you please, we will join the ladies, gently because of your master's foot. He rode back quietly along the track, over which he had chased the carrier's cart, and his foot was now in such anguish that the whole of his wonderful self-command was needed to keep him silent. He set his hard lips and his rigid nose was drawn as pale as parchment, and the fire of his eyes died into the dullness of universal ranker. No hard-hearted man can find his joy in the sweet, soft works of nature, any more than the naked flint nurses flowers. The beauty of the young May twilight flowing through the woven wood, and harboring like a blue bloom, here and there in bays of vert ear, while upward all the gray trees reared their domes, once more in summer roofage, and stopped out the heavens, while in among them finding refuge, birds, before the dark fell on them, filled the world with melody, and the hushing rustle of the well-earned night was settling down, through all these road, Mr. Sharp, and hated every one of them. Presently his horse gave a little turn of head, but was too cowed down to shy again, and a tall woman, darkly clad, was standing by the timber-track, with one hand up to catch his eyes. You here, sentimental! cried the lawyer with surprise. I have no time now. What do you want with me? I want you to see the work of your hand, your only child, dead by your own blow. Struck with cold horror he could not speak, but he reeled in the saddle with his hand on his heart, and stared at Sinementa. It is true, she said softly, come here and see it. Even for you, Luke Sharp, I never could have wished a sight like this. You have ruined my life. You have made my people thieves. The loss of my children lies on you. But to see your only son murdered by yourself is too bad, even for such as you. I never meant it. I never dreamed it. God is my witness that I never did. I thought his head was a great deal thicker. Sneerer as he was. He meant no jest now. He simply spoke the earnest truth. In his passion he had struck men before, and knocked them down with no great harm. He forgot his own fury in this one blow, and the weight of his heavily loaded whip. If you cannot believe, she answered sternly, supposing him to be jeering still, you had better come here. He was a kind, good lad, good to me. And to my last child, I have made him look very nice. Will you come, or will you go and tell his mother? Luke Sharp looked at her in the same sort of way in which many of his victims had looked at him. Then he touched his horse gently, having had too much of rage, and allowed him to take his own choice of way. The poor horse, having had a very bad time of it, made the most of this privilege, setting an example to mankind, whose first thought is not sure to be of home. The poor fellow pointed the white star in his forehead towards his distant stable. Oxford was many a bad mile away, but his heart was sad upon being there. Sleeply, therefore, he jogged along, having never known such a day of it. While he thought of his oats-sivs sweetly, and nice little nibbles at his clover hay, and a comfortable soothing of his creased places by a man who would sing a tune to him, his rider was in a very different case, without one hope to turn to. The rising of the moon to assuage the earth of all the long sun fever, the spread of dewy light, and the quivering of the nerves of shadow, and then the soft, unfeatured beauty of the dim tranquility, coming over Luke Sharp's road, or flitting on his face, what difference could they make to his white despair? He hated light, he loathed the shade, he scorned the meekness of the dapple, and he cursed the darkness. Out of sight of the road, and yet within a level course of it, there lay to his knowledge a deep and quiet and seldom troubled forest pool. This had long been in his mind, and coming to the footpath now, he drew his bridle towards it. The moon was here fenced out by trees and thickets of blackthorn, an ivy hanging like a funeral paw, except that here at the lip of darkness one broad beam of light stole in, and shivered on gray bowls of willow, and quivered on black lustrous smoothness of contemptuous water. To the verge of this water Luke Sharp rode, with his horse prepared for anything. He swept with his keen eyes all the length of liquid darkness, ebbing in the blackness in the distance, and he spoke his last words. This will do. Then he drove his horse into the margin of the pool till the water was up to the girths, and the broad beams of the moon shone over them. Here he drew both feet from the stirrup irons and sat on his saddle sideways, sluicing his crushed and burning foot, and watching the water drip from it. And then he carefully pulled from the holster the pistol that still was loaded, took care that the flint and the priming were right, and turning his horse that he might escape, while the man fell into deep water, steadfastly gazed at the moon, and laid the muzzle to his temple, justly careful that it should be the temple, and the vein which tallied with that upon which he had struck his son. A blaze lit up the forest pool, and a roar shook the pall of ivy. A heavy plash added to the treasures of the deep, and a little flotilla of white stuff began to sail about on the black water, in the commotion made by man and horse. When Mr. Sharp was an office-boy, his name had been Little Big Brains. The first thing he did when all danger was past, and Dobbin was peddling his old tune, three happens and tuppence, three happens and tuppence, a good horse knows what his shoes are worth, was to tie up Gracie in a pair of sacks. He thumped them well on the footboard first, to shake all the mealiness out of them, and then, with permission, he spread one over the delicate shoulders, and the other in front, across the trembling heart and throat. Then, by some hereditary art, he fastened them together so that the night air could not creep between. Crips, you are too good, said Grace, if I could only tell you half the times that I have thought of you, and once when I saw a sack of yours. Lord, miss, the very one as I have missed, hadn't got a red cross, thick the one side. The Lord only knows what a fool I be, to carry on with such rum-tums now. However, I'll have hold of he, and some it more ere I be done with it. Here the carrier rubbed his mouth on his sleeve, as he always did, to stop himself. He was not going to publish the family disgrace till he had avenged it. But now, miss, not another word you say. Inside of them sacks you go to sleep. The Lord knows you want it dearly. And fall away you can't know how. Scratched you be to that extreme, and getting out of Satan's den, that tallow candles dropped in water is what I must see to. None of them knows it. No, not one of them. Man or horse, it cometh all the same. It takeeth a man to do it, though. I should like to see a horse do it! said Grace, and her sleepy smile passed into sleep. Eager as she was to be in her father's arms, the excitement and the exertion, and the unwanted shaking, and passage through the air began to tell the usual tale. This was the very thing the crafty carrier longed to bring about. It left him time to consider how to meet two difficulties. The first was to get her through Beckley without any uproar of the natives. The second, to place her in her father's arms without dangerous emotion. The former point he compassed well, by taking advantage of the many ins and outs of the leisurely lanes of Beckley, so that he drew up at the back door of the Barton, without a single sapient villager being one bit the wiser. Now, if he only had his sister with him, the second point might have been better managed, because he would have sent her on in front, to treat with Mrs. Hookam, and employ all the feminine skills supplied by quickness, sympathy, and invention. As it was, he must do the best he could, and his greatest difficulty was with Grace herself. The young lady by this time was wide awake and stirred with such violent throbbing of heart, at the view of divine and desirable Beckley, sleeping in the moonlight, and at the breath of her own home door, and haunt of her darling father's steps, that Cripps had to hold her down by her sacks, and wished that he could strap her so. Do he's it still, Miss? Do he's it still? He kept on saying till he was afraid of being rude. You are a tyrant, Cripps, a perfect tyrant, because you have picked me up and been so good. Have you any right to keep me from my father? Them raisinings, said Cripps in the decided tone, is good, but comes to nothing. Either you do as I beg you, Missy, or I turn Dobbin's head and back you go. It is for the squires' sake that I spake so harsh, do ye? Supposing you was to kill him, Missy, what would you say utter words? Oh, is he so dreadfully ill as that? I will do everything exactly as you tell me. Then get down very softly, Miss, and run and hide in that old doorway, quite out of the moonshine, and stay there till I come to Fetchy, still covered with the sacks the maiden did as she was told, while a carrier with ungainly skill and needless cautions to his horse, who stood like a rock, descended. Then he walked into the squire's kitchen, with whip in hand as usual, as if he were come to deliver goods. The fat cook was now sitting calmly by the fire meditating. To her the time of year made no difference, except for the time that meat must hang, and a recollection of what was in its prime, and the consideration of the draught required, and the shutting of the sun out when he spoiled the fire. In the fire of young days, when herself quite raw, this admirable cook had been done brown by a handsome young Methodist preacher. Before she understood what a basting ladle is, her head was set spinning by his tongue and eyes. He had three wives already, but he put her on the list, took all her money out of her, and went another circuit. The poor girl spent about a year in crying, and then she returned to the Church of England, buried her baby, and became a cook. Without being soured by any evil she now had long experience, and a ripe style of twirling her thumbs upon her apron. Why, Miss Cook, began Zachary entering under official privilege, and trying to look full of business. Do we know where to lay hand on Mother Hookham? A valuable piece of goods I has to deliver, and must have good receipt, foreign. But, Lord Master Cripps, now, whatever be about? It ain't one of your Hoxford days, and thus never sends out no washing. You've annowed me a long time now, ain't you, Mrs. Cook? Did you ever know me for to play trick'em truly? Never have you done that to my knowledge?" Good woman answered steadfastly, though pained in her heart by the thought of one who had. Master Cripps is known to be the breadth of his own word. Then, my good soul, will ye fetch down Mother Hookham? It bane for the flourish as the Lord Almighty knows. I haven't got the governing of them, little scrawls myself, nor the seasoning amongst them, as that pertains to you. Beautifully you could have done it, Mrs. Cook, but the directions here is so particular. For a job of this sort, you are twenty years too young." Oh, Master Cripps! cried the cook who made a star like that upon a pie, for her manual sign. Well, you know that the ruin of my days has been trust and education. Standing aside of it, I was a took in, and afore there come any pen or pencil. Three hundred twenty pounds was gone. Not for a moment do I blame the word of God. Only them is blasphemeth it. But the whole of my inert parts is turned against a pepper, even on a pie crust. Don't ye give way now, dear heart alive? Many a time have ye told me, and every time I feels the more for ye. Quite a young woman you still be, in a way, and a treasure for a young man with a wame in his throat, and have a guinea every week you might aim for roast and dinner parties. But do ye now go, when fetch your mother, hook'em down? The old woman isn't in the house, Master Cripps. She hath so many things to mind that the wonder is how she can ever go through of them. A heavy weight she hath taken off my shoulders ever since here she come, in virtue of her tongue, but her daughter can be had to put a flower to almost anything if my signs isn't grand enough to go into your hat, Master Cripps. Now, my dear good soul, reply the carrier standing back and looking at her, you be taken of everything in a crooked way, you be. I have a little thing to see to, nor to say of a kitchen in it, and some sort of style, peculiar, requireeth peculiar management I do assure you, and no harm would ye please to hearken to me now, such as I have to say not much. The brave cook answered this appeal by running to fetch Mary Hook'em, in everything that now she did, even with such a man as Cripps, the remembrance of vile deceit made her look out for a witness. Mary came down with a bounce, as if she had never been near her looking-glass, but was born with her ribbons in color to match, and her eyes shown fresh at the sight of Master Cripps. How well you be looking, my dear, for sure! said the carrier, having, as a soldier has, his admiration of a pretty girl quickened by the sound of firearms, and I become to make ye look still better. Mary cast a glance at the cook, as if she thought her won too many. Cripps must be going to declare his mind at last, and Mary had such faith in him that she required no witness. Who do ye think that I have brought ye back? Assacree, meaning to be very quiet but speaking so loud in his pride that Mary, with a pale face, ran and shut the door upon the steps leading to her master's quarters, then she came back more at leisure, and put her elbows to her sides, and looked at Master Cripps, as if she had never meant to think of him for herself. And this made Cripps, who had been exalting at her first proceedings, put down his whip and wonder, not Miss Grace, cried Mary, surely never are Miss Grace. What an interlocked that young woman hath, said Cripps, aloud reflecting. Almost too much. I be verily afeared. Oh, no, Master Cripps, not at all too much for any one as entereth into it, with a household feeling. But were I right? Oh, Master Cripps, were I right? Mary, hook'em! said Cripps, coming over and laying his hand on her shoulder, as he used to do when she was a little wench, and made him a curtsy with a glass of ale, even then admiring him. Mary, you were right, as I never could believe any would have the quickness. Cripps hath abroad home to this old ancient mansion, the very most valuable case of goods as ever were inside it. Better than the crown as the young queen hath for ten months now preparing. Alive? asked Mary, shrinking back towards the fire, for as metaphor might mean coffins. Now there you go down again, there you go down, answered Cripps, who enjoyed the situation, and desired to make the most of it. Well, I thought you was all intellect, but better perhaps without too much. Put it to yourself. Now, Mary, whether I should look like this, if I had only brought the remainses. Oh, where is her? Where is her? Wherever can her be? cried Mary, forgetting all her fine education and strong vernacular excitement. Herbie, where I knows to find her again, answered Zachary with a steadfast face. It was not for anyone to run and strike a light betwixt him and his own work. Her might be to Abington or to Banbury. Proper time come, I can vet her afford. Oh, I thought you had got her in the house, Master Cripps. How disappointing you do grow, to be sure. I suppose it is the way of all men. Mary shed a tear in Master Cripps, having been tried by sundry women, went closer, to be sure of it. He was pleased at the sign, but he went on with his business. You deserved to know everything. Now, can you shut the doors without a chance of anybody breaking in? Mary and the cook, with a glance at one another, fastened all the doors of a large, low kitchen, except for the one leading to the lane itself. You buy just as you be, said Cripps, and I'll show you something worth looking at. He ran to the place where Grace was hiding, in the chill and the heat of impatience, and he took the coarse sacks from her shoulders, as if her sack-loth time was done at last, and he led her to the warmth and light, and she hung behind, afraid of them, that strange but not uncommon shyness of one's own familiar home, when long unseen, came over her, and she felt for the moment almost afraid of her own beloved father. But Cripps made her come, and both Mary Hookam and the Fat Cook cried, Oh my, my good! and ran up and kissed her, and held her hands while she stood pale and mute, with large blue eyes, brimful of tears, and lips that wavered between smile and sob. Does he—does he know about me? She managed to say to Cripps while she glanced at the door leading up to her father's room. Not he, Lord bless you, my dear, said Cripps. It'd take them all half hour apiece to believe as you ever be alive, Miss. It would never take my father two minutes, answered Grace. He would be a great deal too glad of it to doubt. You promised to buy by my directions, the carrier cried reproachfully. If he don't, I won't answer for nort of it. Now you sit down, Miss, by back-kitchen door, to come or go either way, according as is ordered. Now Mary plays to go, and say that Cripps hath come to see his worship about a little mistake he hath made. Mr. Oglander never refused to see any who came to visit him. His simple, straightforward mind compelled him to go through with everything as it turned up, whether it were of his own business or any other persons. Therefore, he said, Show Cripps in here! Cripps was in no hurry to be shown in. He felt that he had a ticklish job to carry through, and he might drop the handles if himself were touched to Miss, and he thought that he could get on much better with a clever woman there to help him. Place your worship. He began coming in with his finger to his forelock, and his stiff knee sticking out. Don't you run away now, Mary. That's a dear. You know all the way, bills, and his worship will allow of you. Why, Cripps! Mr. Oglander exclaimed, You are making a very great fuss tonight, and you look as if you had been run over. Even if it is half a crown, Cripps, you are come to prove against me. Put it down. I will not dispute it. I know that you would rather wrong yourself than me. The old gentleman was tired, and he did not want to talk. In course, in course, said Zachary, as if every man preferred to wrong himself. But the point is a differing thing, and Mary, speak up if you say you know it is. Yes, sir, I do assure you now, said Mary. The point is altogether quite a different sort of thing. Then why can't you come to it? cried the squire. Is it that you want to marry one another? Mary's face blushed to a fine young color, and Cripps made a nod at her, as if he meant to think of it, but he must leave that for another evening. I never could abide such stuff, muttered Mary, as if all the world was a maid of wives and husbands. The squire sat calmly with his head upon his hand and his white hair glistening in the lamp-light, as he gazed from one to the other, with a smile of melancholy amusement it would be a great discomfort to him to lose Mary Hookam's service, and he thought that a little unkind of her to leave him in this sad loneliness, but he had not lived three score years and ten without knowing what the way of the world is. Therefore, if Cripps had made up his mind, as the woman had long been declaring that he as a man was bound to do, Mr. Oglander would be the last to complain, or say a word to damp them. A carrier himself had some idea that such was the working of the squire's mind. Now, your worship, he said, putting Mary away to a place where she could use her handkerchief, will you please to harken without your own opinion, before last heard what there be to say? Neither of us dreameth of doing you the wrong to take away Mary while you be wanting of her. You ought to have known us better, squire. And as for poor Mary, I ain't said a word to back up her hopes of a having me yet. Now, Miss Mary, have I? No, that you never haven't, Master Cripps. And it may come too late, if it ever do come. Well, well, continued Master Cripps, without much terror in the way as she turned her back. Raleigh, your worship, it was you who throwed us out, reckoning of my times as a hard thing for me. And a hundred and four times a year is too much for the discretion of a horse, almost. Very well, Cripps, said the squire in despair. Everyone knows that you must have your time. Not a word will I speak again until I have your leave. I calls it unhandsome of your worship to say that, being so contrary of my best characteristics. Your worship mayneth all things for the best. I am persuaded, but speaking thus you drives me into such a perspiration. The same as used to be a sweat when I was young and forced to it. Now, doth your worship know that all things comethin' around, like a sound cartwheel, to all such folks as trust the Lord? I know that you have such a theory, Cripps. You beat the whole village in theology. And a learned scholar in Oxford, your worship, you were quite doubled up about the tribe of Levi. But for all of our stuff the Lord still goeth on making his rounds to his own right time. And now his time hath come for you, squire. Do try to speak out, Cripps, and tell me what excites you so. Mary, his worship is beginning to look white. Fetch in the pepper-caster and the gallon of vinegar as I deliver last Wednesday. No, Mary, no, I want nothing of the kind. Tell him. Beg him just to speak out what he means. Cripps, master Cripps, now! cried Mary in a tremble. You be going too far, and then stopping of a heap like. His worship ought to be led into the whole of a gradual, gradual, gradual. Can he trust in the word of the Lord, your worship? asked Cripps, advancing bravely. Can he do that now without no disrespect to ye? In two minutes more you'll drive me mad between you. The old squire shouted as he rose and spread his arms. In the name of God what is it? Is it of my daughter? Yes, yes, Father dearest. Who else could it be in the whole of the world? A clear voice cried as a timid form grew clearer. They would go on all night, but I could not wait a moment, daddy. I am sure that you won't be frightened. You can't have too much of your own grace, can you? Don't let it go to your heart, my darling. Grace will rub it for you. There, let me put my head just as I used, and then you will be certain, won't you? She later had upon her father's breast, while Mary caught hold of the carrier's sleeve, and led him away to the passage, and the old man's weak and trembling fingers strayed among his daughter's hair, and he could not speak, or smile, or weep. There, you will be better directly, darling? She whispered, looking up with streaming eyes, as she felt him tremble exceedingly, and her quick hands eased him of the little brooch, containing her mother's hair and her own, which fastened his quavering shirt-frill. You wanted me to come back, didn't you? But not in such a hurry, darling, not in such a hurry. Father dear, why ever don't you kiss me? If you did not run away, dear, say you did not run away. Daddy, you cannot be so ill-minded, so very wicked to your only child. The old man took his child's hand in his own, and soothed her down, and drew her down, until they were kneeling at the table side by side. Then they put up their hands to thank God for one another, and did it not with lips, but with heart and soul.