 Chapter 32 of North and South. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Leanne Howlett. North and South by Elizabeth Clegghorn Gaskell. Chapter 32, Miss Chances. What remain to be denounced, dragged? It may be in chains, Werner. All the next day they sat together, day three. Mr. Hale hardly ever spoke but when his children asked him questions and forced him as it were into the present. Frederick's grief was no more to be seen or heard. The first paroxysm had passed over and now he was ashamed of having been so battered down by emotion and though his sorrow for the loss of his mother was a deep real feeling and would last out his life it was never to be spoken of again. Margaret, not so passionate at first, was more suffering now. At times she cried a good deal and her manner, even when speaking on indifferent things had a mournful tenderness about it which was deepened whenever her looks fell on Frederick and she thought of his rapidly approaching departure. She was glad he was going on her father's account however much she might grieve over it on her own. The anxious terror in which Mr. Hale lived lest his son should be detected and captured far outweighed the pleasure he derived from his presence. The nervousness had increased since Mrs. Hale's death probably because he dwelt upon it more exclusively. He started at every unusual sound and was never comfortable unless Frederick sat out of the immediate view of anyone entering the room. Towards evening he said, You will go with Frederick to the station, Margaret. I shall want to know he is safely off. You will ring me word that he is clear of Milton at any rate. Certainly, said Margaret, I shall like it if you won't be lonely without me, papa. No, no, I should always be fancying someone had known him and that he had been stopped unless you could tell me you had seen him off. And go to the outward station. It is quite as near and not so many people about. Take a cab there. There is less risk of his being seen. What time is your train, Fred? Ten minutes past six, very nearly dark. So what will you do, Margaret? Oh, I can manage. I'm getting very brave and very hard. It is a well-lighted road all the way home if it should be dark, but I was out last week much later. Margaret was thankful when the parting was over. The parting from the dead mother and the living father. She hurried Frederick into the cab in order to shorten a scene which she saw was so bitterly painful to her father who would accompany his son as he took his last look at his mother. Partly in consequence of this and partly owing to one of the very common mistakes in the railway guide as to the times when trains arrive at the smaller stations, they found on reaching Outwood that they had nearly twenty minutes to spare. The booking office was not open, so they could not even take the ticket. They accordingly went down the flight of steps that led to the level of the ground below the railway. There was a broad cinder path diagonally crossing a field which lay alongside of the carriage road, and they went there to walk backwards and forwards for the few minutes they had to spare. Margaret's hand lay in Frederick's arm. He took hold of it affectionately. Margaret, I'm going to consult Mr. Lennox as to the chance of exculpating myself so that I may return to England whenever I choose more for your sake than for the sake of anyone else. I can't bear to think of your lonely position if anything should happen to my father. He looks sadly changed, terribly shaken. I wish you could get him to think of the Cadiz plan for many reasons. What could you do if he were taken away? You have no friend near. We are curiously bare of relations. Margaret could hardly keep from crying at the tender anxiety with which Frederick was bringing before her the event which she herself felt was not very improbable. So severely had the cares of the last few months told upon Mr. Hale. But she tried to rally as she said. There have been such strained unexpected changes in my life during these last two years that I feel more than ever that it is not worthwhile to calculate too closely what I should do if any future event took place. I try to think only upon the present. She paused. They were standing still for a moment, close on the field side of the style leading into the road. The setting sun fell on their faces. Frederick held her hand in his and looked with wistful anxiety into her face reading their more care and trouble than she would betray by words. She went on. We shall write often to one another and I will promise for I see it will set your mind at ease to tell you every worry I have. Papa is, she started a little, a hardly visible start but Frederick felt the sudden motion of the hand he held and turned his full face to the road along which a horseman was slowly riding just passing the very style where they stood. Margaret bowed. Her bow was stiffly returned. Who is that? said Frederick almost before he was out of hearing. Margaret was a little drooping, a little flushed as she replied. Mr. Thornton, you saw him before you know. Only his back. He is an unprepossessing looking fellow. What a scowl he has. Something has happened to vex him, said Margaret apologetically. You would not have thought him unprepossessing if you had seen him with Mama. I fancy it must be time to go and take my ticket. If I had known how dark it would be, we wouldn't have sent back the cab, Margaret. Oh, don't fidget about that. I can take a cab here if I like or go back by the railroad when I should have shops and people and lamps all the way from the Milton Station House. Don't think of me. Take care of yourself. I am sick with the thought that Linnards may be in the same train with you. Look well into the carriage before you get in. They went back to the station. Margaret insisted upon going into the full light of the flaring gas inside to take the ticket. Some idle looking young men were lounging about with the station master. Margaret thought she had seen the face of one of them before and returned him a proud look of offended dignity for his somewhat impertinent stare of undisguised admiration. She went hastily to her brother who was standing outside and took hold of his arm. Have you got your bag? Let us walk about here on the platform, said she, a little flurried at the idea of so soon being left alone and her bravery oozing out rather faster than she liked to acknowledge even to herself. She heard a step following them along the flags. It stopped when they stopped, looking out along the line and hearing the whiz of the coming train. They did not speak. Their hearts were too full. Another moment in the train would be here a minute more and he would be gone. Margaret almost repented the urgency with which she had entreated him to go to London. It was throwing more chances of detection in his way. If he had sailed for Spain by Liverpool, he might have been off in two or three hours. Frederick turned round, right facing the lamp where the gas started up in vivid anticipation of the train. A man in the dress of a railway porter started forward. A bad looking man who seemed to have drunk himself into a state of brutality although his senses were in perfect order. By your leave, Miss, said he, pushing Margaret rudely on one side and seizing Frederick by the collar. Your name is Hale, I believe. In an instant, Howell Margaret did not see for everything danced before her eyes. But by some slight of wrestling, Frederick had tripped him up and he fell from the height of three or four feet which the platform was elevated above the space of soft ground by the side of the railroad. There he lay. Run, run, gas Margaret. The train is here. It was Leonard's was it. Oh run, I will carry your bag. And she took him by the arm to push him along with all her feeble force. A door was opened in a carriage. He jumped in. And as he leant out to say, God bless you, Margaret, the train rushed past her and she was left standing alone. She was so terribly sick and faint that she was thankful to be able to turn into the ladies' waiting room and sit down for an instant. At first she could do nothing but gasp for breath. It was such a hurry, such a sickening alarm, such a near chance. If the train had not been there at the moment, the man would have jumped up again and called for assistance to arrest him. She wondered if the man had got up. She tried to remember if she had seen him move. She wondered if he could have been seriously hurt. She ventured out. The platform was all alight, but still quite deserted. She went to the end and looked over, somewhat fearfully. No one was there. And then she was glad she had made herself go and inspect, for otherwise terrible thoughts would have haunted her dreams. And even as it was, she was so trembling and affrighted that she felt she could not walk home along the road, which did indeed seem lonely and dark as she gazed down upon it from the blaze of the station. She would wait till the down train passed and take her seat in it. But what if Linnards recognized her as Frederick's companion? She peered about before venturing into the booking office to take her ticket. There were only some railway officials standing about and talking loud to one another. So Linnards has been drinking again, said one, seemingly in authority. He'll need all his boasted influence to keep his place this time. Where is he, asked another, while Margaret, her back towards them, was counting her change with trembling fingers, not daring to turn around until she heard the answer to this question. I don't know. He came in not five minutes ago with some long story or other about a fall he'd had, swearing awfully, and wanted to borrow some money from me to go to London by the next up train. He made all sorts of tipsy promises, but I had something else to do than listen to him. I told him to go about his business and he went off at the front door. He's at the nearest vault, so I'll be bound, said the first speaker. Your money would have gone there too if you'd been such a fool as to lend it. Catch me. I knew better what his London meant, why he has never paid me off that five shillings. And so they went on. And now all Margaret's anxiety was for the train to come. She hit herself once more in the ladies' waiting room and fancied every noise was Linnards' step. Every loud and boisterous voice was his. But no one came near her until the train drew up when she was civilly helped into a carriage by a porter into whose face she durst not looked till they were in motion. And then she saw that it was not Linnards. End of Chapter 32, recording by Leanne Howlett. Chapter 33, North and South. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burgoyne. North and South by Elizabeth Clegghorn Gaskell. Chapter 33, Peace. Sleep on, my love, in thy cold bed, never to be disquieted. My last good night, thou wilt not wake, till I thy fate shall overtake. Dr. King. Home seemed unnaturally quiet after all this terror and noisy commotion. Her father had seen all due preparation made for her refreshment on her return and then sat down again in his accustomed chair to fall into one of his sad waking dreams. Dixon had got Mary Higgins to scold and direct in the kitchen and her scolding was not the less energetic because it was delivered in an angry whisper. For speaking above her breath she would have thought irreverent, as long as there was any one dead lying in the house. Margaret had resolved not to mention the crowning and closing a fright to her father. There was no use in speaking about it. It had ended well. The only thing to be feared was less lennards should in some way borrow money enough to affect his purpose of following Frederick to London and hunting him out there. But there were immense chances against the success of any such plan and Margaret determined not to torment herself by thinking of what she could do nothing to prevent. Frederick would be as much on his guard as she could put him and in a day or two at most he would be safely out of England. I suppose we shall hear from Mr Bell tomorrow, said Margaret. Yes, replied her father, I suppose so. If he can come he will be here tomorrow evening, I should think. If he cannot come I shall ask Mr Thornton to go with me to the funeral. I cannot go alone, I should break down utterly. Don't ask Mr Thornton, Papa, let me go with you, said Margaret, impetuously. You, my dear, women do not generally go. No, because they can't control themselves. Women of our class don't go because they have no power over their emotions and yet are ashamed of showing them. Poor women go and don't care if they are seen overwhelmed with grief. But I promise you, Papa, that if you will let me go I will be no trouble. Don't have a stranger and leave me out. Dear Papa, if Mr Bell cannot come I shall go. I won't urge my wish against your will, if he does. Mr Bell could not come. He had the gout. It was a most affectionate letter, an express great and true regret from his inability to attend. He hoped to come and pay them a visit soon. If they would have him, his Milton property required some looking after and his agent had written to him to say that his presence was absolutely necessary or else he had avoided coming near Milton as long as he could and now the only thing that would reconcile him to this necessary visit was the idea that he should see and might possibly be able to comfort his old friend. Margaret had all the difficulty in the world to persuade her father not to invite Mr Thornton. She had an indescribable repugnance to this step being taken. The night before the funeral came a stately note from Mrs Thornton to Miss Hale saying that at her son's desire their carriage should attend the funeral if it would not be disagreeable to the family. Margaret tossed the note to her father. Oh, don't let us have these forms. She said, let us go alone. You and me, Papa. They don't care for us or else he would have offered to go himself and not have proposed descending an empty carriage. I thought you were so extremely averse to his going, Margaret, said Mr Hale, in some surprise. And so I am. I don't want him to come at all and I should especially dislike the idea of our asking him. But this seemed such a mockery of mourning that I did not expect it from him. She startled her father by bursting into tears. She had been so subdued in her grief, so thoughtful for others, so gentle and patient in all things that he could not understand her impatient ways tonight. She seemed agitated and restless. And at all the tenderness which her father, in his turn, now lavished upon her, she only cried the more. She passed so bad at night that she was ill-prepared for the additional anxiety caused by a letter received from Frederick. Mr Lennox was out of town. His clerk said that he would return by the following Tuesday at the latest, that he might possibly be at home on Monday. Consequently, after some consideration, Frederick had determined upon remaining in London a day or two longer. He had thought of coming down to Milton again. The temptation had been very strong, but the idea of Mr Bell domesticated in his father's house and the alarm he had received at the last moment at the railway station had made him resolve to stay in London. Margaret might be assured he would take every precaution against being trapped by Lennox. Margaret was thankful that she received this letter while her father was absent in her mother's room. If he had been present, he would have expected her to read it aloud to him, and it would have raised in him a stated nervous alarm which she would have found it impossible to soothe away. There was not merely the fact which disturbed her excessively of Frederick's detention in London, but there were allusions to the recognition at the last moment at Milton and the possibility of a pursuit which made her blood run cold and how then would it have affected her father? Many a time did Margaret repent of having suggested and urged on the plan of consulting Mr Lennox. At the moment it had seemed as if it would occasion so little delay, add so little to the apparently small chances of detection and yet everything that had since occurred had tended to make it so undesirable. Margaret battled hard against this regret of hers for what could not now be helped. This self-reproach for having said what had at the time appeared to be wise but which after events were proving to have been so foolish. But her father was in too depressed a state of mind and body to struggle healthfully. He would succumb to all these causes for morbid regret over what could not be recalled. Margaret summoned up all her forces to her aid. Her father seemed to have forgotten that they had any reason to expect a letter from Frederick that morning. He was absorbed in one idea that the last visible token of the presence of his wife was to be carried away from him and hidden from his sight. He trembled pitifully as the undertaker's man was arranging his craped draperies around him. He looked wistfully at Margaret and when released he tottered towards her, murmuring, Pray for me, Margaret. I have no strength left in me. I cannot pray. I give her up because I must. I try to bear it. Indeed I do. I know it is God's will. But I cannot see why she died. Pray for me, Margaret, that I may have faith to pray. It is a great straight, my child. Margaret sat by him in the coach, almost supporting him in her arms and repeating all the noble verses of Holy Comfort or text expressive of faithful resignation that she could remember. Her voice never faltered and she herself gained strength by doing this. Her father's lips moved after her, repeating the well-known texts as her words suggested them. It was terrible to see the patient's struggling effort to obtain the resignation which he had not strength to take into his heart as a part of himself. Margaret's fortitude nearly gave way as Dixon, with a slight motion of her hand, directed her notice to Nicholas Higgins and his daughter, standing a little aloof, but deeply attentive to the ceremonial. Nicholas wore his usual fustian clothes that had a bit of black stuff sewn round his hat, a mark of mourning which he had never shown to his daughter Bessie's memory. But Mr. Hale saw nothing. He went on repeating to himself, mechanically as it were, all the funeral service as it was read by the officiating clergyman. He sighed twice or thrice when all was ended and then, putting his hand on Margaret's arm, he mutely entreated to be led away as if he were blind and she his faithful guide. Dixon sobbed aloud. She covered her face with a handkerchief and was so absorbed in her own grief that she did not perceive that the crowd attracted on such occasions was dispersing till she was spoken to by someone close at hand. It was Mr. Thornton. He had been present all the time, standing with bent head behind a group of people so that, in fact, no one had recognised him. I beg your pardon, but can you tell me how Mr. Hale is and Miss Hale too? I should like to know how they both are. Of course, Sue, they are much as is to be expected. Master is terribly broke down. Miss Hale bears up better than likely. Mr. Thornton would rather have heard that she was suffering the natural sorrow. In the first place, there was selfishness enough in him to have taken pleasure in the idea that his great love might come in to comfort and console her. Much the same kind of strange, passionate pleasure which comes stinging through a mother's heart when her dripping infant nestles close to her and is dependent upon her for everything. But this delicious vision of what might have been in which, in spite of all Margaret's repulse, he would have indulged only a few days ago, was miserably disturbed by the recollection of what he had seen near the outward station. Miserably disturbed, that is not strong enough, he was haunted by the remembrance of the handsome young man with whom she stood in an attitude of such familiar confidence and the remembrance shot through him like an agony till it made him clench his hands tight in order to subdue the pain. At that late hour so far from home it took a great moral effort to galvanise his trust, erwhile so perfect in Margaret's pure and exquisite maidenliness. Into life, as soon as the effort ceased, his trust dropped down head and powerless and all sorts of wild fancies chased each other like dreams through his mind. He was a little piece of miserable, gnawing confirmation. She bore up better than likely under this grief. She had then some hope to look to, so bright that even in her affectionate nature it could come into light in the dark hours of a daughter newly made motherless. Yes, he knew how she would love. He had not loved her without gaining that instinctive knowledge of what capabilities were in her. Her soul would walk in glorious sunlight if any man was worthy by his power of loving to win back her love. Even in her mourning she would rest with a peaceful faith upon his sympathy. His sympathy, whose? That other man's, and that it was another was enough to make Mr. Thornton's pale, grey face grow doubly wane and stern at Dickson's answer. I suppose I may call, said he coldly, on Mr. Hale, I mean. He will perhaps admit me after tomorrow or so. He spoke as if the answer were a matter of indifference to him, but it was not so, that all his pain he longed to see the author of it. Although he hated Margaret at times when he thought of that gentle, familiar attitude and all the attendant's circumstances he had a restless desire to renew her picture in his mind, a longing for the very atmosphere she breathed. He was in the cherubids of passion and must perforce circle and circle ever nearer round the fatal centre. I dare say, sir, master will see you. He was very sorry to have to deny you the other day that circumstances were not agreeable just then. For some reason or other, Dickson never known this interview that she had had with Mr. Thornton to Margaret. It might have been mere chance, but so it was that Margaret never heard that he had attended her poor mother's funeral. End of Chapter 33 Chapter 34 North and South This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burghorn. North and South by Elizabeth Clegghorn Gaskell. Chapter 34 False and True Truth will fail thee never, never. Thou thy bark be tempest driven. Thou each plank be rent and ribbon. Truth will bear thee on forever and on. The bearing up better than likely was a terrible strain upon Margaret. Sometimes she thought she must give way and cry out with pain, as the sudden sharp thought came across her, even during her apparently cheerful conversations with her father that she had no longer a mother. About Frederick II there was great uneasiness. The Sunday Post intervened and interfered with their London letters, and on Tuesday Margaret was surprised and disheartened to find that there was still no letter. She was quite in the dark as to his plans, and her father was miserable at all this uncertainty. It broke in upon his lately acquired habit of sitting still in one easy chair for half a day together. He kept pacing up and down the room, then out of it, and she heard him upon the landing opening and shutting the bedroom doors, without any apparent object. She tried to tranquilise him by reading aloud, but it was evident he could not listen for long together. How thankful she was then that she had kept to herself the additional cause for anxiety produced by their encounter with Lennards. She was thankful to hear Mr Thornton announced his visit would force her father's thoughts into another channel. He came up straight to her father, whose hands he took and rung without a word, holding them in his for a minute or two, during which time his face, his eyes, his look told of more sympathy than could be put into words. Then he turned to Margaret, not better than likely did she look. Her stately beauty was dimmed with much watching and with many tears. The expression on her countenance was of gentle patent sadness, no of positive present suffering. He had not meant to greet her otherwise than with his late studded coldness of dominion, that he could not help going up to her, as she stood a little aside, rendered timid by the uncertainty of his manner of late, and saying the few necessary commonplace words in so tender a voice that her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away to hide her emotion. She took her work and sat down very quiet and silent. Mr. Thornton's heart beat quick and strong, and for the time he utterly forgot the outward lane. He tried to talk to Mr. Hale, and his presence always a certain kind of pleasure to Mr. Hale, as his power and decision made him, and his opinions, a safe, sure port, was unusually agreeable to her father, as Margaret saw. Presently Dixon came to the door and said, Miss Hale, you are wanted. Dixon's manner was so flurried that Margaret turned sick at heart. Something had happened to Fred. She had no doubt of that. It was well that her father and Mr. Thornton were so much occupied by their conversation. What is it, Dixon, asked Margaret, the moment she had shut the drawing room door. Come this way, Miss, said Dixon, opening the door of what had been Mrs. Hale's bedchamber. Now, Margaret, for her father refused to sleep there again after his wife's death. It's nothing, Miss, said Dixon, choking a little. Only a police inspector, he wants to see you, Miss, but I dare say it's about nothing at all. Did he name, asked Margaret, almost inaudibly. No, Miss, he named nothing. He only asked if you lived here and if he could speak to you. Martha went to the door and let him in. She has shown him into master study. I went to him myself to try if that would do, but no, it's you, Miss, he wants. Margaret did not speak again till her hand was on the lock of the study door. Here she turned round and said, take care, Puppet, does not come down. Mr. Thornton is with him now. The inspector was almost haunted by the haughtiness of her manner as she entered. There was something of indignation expressed in her countenance, but so kept down and controlled that it gave her a superb air of disdain. There was no surprise, no curiosity. She stood awaiting the opening of his business there. Not a question did she ask. I beg your pardon, ma'am, but my duty obliges me to ask you a few plain questions. A man has died at the infirmary, in consequence of a fall, received at our wood station between the hours of five and six on Thursday evening, the 26th instant. At the time this fall did not seem of much consequence, but it was rendered fatal, the doctor say by the presence of some internal complaint and the man's own habit of drinking. The large dark eyes gazing straight into the inspector's face dilated a little. Otherwise there was no motion perceptible till his experienced observation. Her lips swelled out into a richer curve than ordinary, owing to the enforced tension of the muscles, but he did not know what was their usual appearance, so as to recognise the unwanted sullen defiance of the firm's sweeping lines. She never blenched or trembled. She fixed him with her eye. Now, as he paused before going on, she said almost as if she would encourage him in telling his tale. Well, go on. It is supposed that an inquest will have to be held. There is some slight evidence to prove that the blow or push or scuffle that caused the fall was provoked by this poor fellow's half tipsy impertentance to a young lady walking with the man who pushed the deceased over the edge of the platform. This much was observed by someone on the platform who, however, thought no more about the matter as the blow seemed of slight consequence. There is also some reason to identify the lady with yourself, in which case. I was not there, said Margaret, still keeping her expressionless eyes fixed on his face with the unconscious look of a sleek walker. The inspector bowed but did not speak. The lady standing before him showed no emotion, no fluttering fear, no anxiety, no desire to end the interview. The information he had received was very vague. One of the porters rushing out to be in readiness for the train had seen a scuffle at the other end of the platform between Leonard's and a gentleman accompanied by a lady that heard no noise and before the train had got to its full speed after starting he had been almost knocked down by the headlong run at the enraged, half-intoxicated Leonard's swearing and cursing awfully. He had not thought any more about it till his evidence was routed out by the inspector who, on making some father inquiry at the railroad station had heard from the station master that a young lady and gentleman had been there about that hour, the lady remarkably handsome and said, by some graces assistant present at the time to be a mishail living at Crampton, whose family dealt at his shop there was no certainty that the one lady and gentleman were identical with the other pair but there was a great probability. Leonard's himself had gone half mad with rage and pain to the nearest gin palace for comfort and his tipsy words had not been attended to by the busy waiters there. They, however, remembered he starting up and cursing himself for not having sooner thought of the electric telegraph on purpose unknown and they believed that he left with the idea of going there. On his way, overcome by pain or drink, he had lain down in the road where the police had found him and taken him to the infirmary. There he had never recovered sufficient consciousness to give any distinct account of his fall. Although once or twice he had had glimmerings of sense sufficient to make the authorities send for the nearest magistrate in hopes that he might be able to take down the dying man's deposition at the cause of his death. But when the magistrate had come he was rambling about being at sea and mixing up names of captains and lieutenants in an indistinct manner with those of his fellow porters at the railway and his last words were a curse on the Cornish trick which had, he said, made him a hundred pounds poorer than he ought to have been. The inspector ran all this over in his mind the vagueness of the evidence to prove that Margaret had been at the station the unflinching, calm denial which she gave to such a supposition. She stood awaiting his next word with the composure that appeared supreme. Then madam, I have your denial that you were the lady accompanying the gentleman who struck the blow or gave the push which caused the death of this poor man. A quick, sharp pain went through Margaret's brain. Oh God, that I knew Frederick was safe. A deep observer of human countenances might have seen the momentary agony shoot out of her great gloomy eyes like the torture of some creature brought to bay. But the inspector, though a very keen, was not a very deep observer. He was a little struck, notwithstanding, by the form of the answer which sounded like a mechanical repetition of her first reply not changed and modified in shape so as to meet his last question. I was not there, said she, slowly and heavily and all this time she never closed her eyes or ceased from that glassy dreamlike stare. His quick suspicions were aroused by this dull echo of her former denial. It was as if she had forced herself to one untruth and had been stunned out of all power of varying it. He put up his book of notes in a very deliberate manner. Then he looked up, she had not moved any more than if she had been some great Egyptian statue. I hope you will not think me impertinent when I say that I may have to call on you again. I may have to summon you to appear on the inquest and prove an alibi. If my witnesses, it was but one who had recognised her, persist in deposing to your presence at the unfortunate event. He looked at her sharply. She was still perfectly quiet, no change of colour or darker shadow of field on her proud face. He thought to have seen her wince. He did not know Margaret Hale. He was a little abashed by her regal composure. It must have been a mistake of identity he went on. It is very unlikely, ma'am, that I shall have to do anything of the kind. I hope you will excuse me for doing what is only my duty, although it may appear impertinent. Margaret bowed her head as he went towards the door. Her lips were stiff and dry. She could not speak even the common words of farewell. But suddenly she walked forwards and opened the study door and proceeded him to the door of the house, which she threw wide open for his exit. She kept her eyes upon him in the same dull, fixed manner until he was fairly out of the house. She shut the door and went halfway into the study, then turned back as if moved by some passionate impulse and locked the door inside. Then she went into the study, paused, tottered forward, paused again, swayed for an instant where she stood and fell prone on the floor in a dead swoon. End of chapter 34 Chapter 35 Expiation There's not so finely spun, but it cometh to the sun. Mr. Thornton sat on and on. He felt that his company gave pleasure to Mr. Hale and was touched by the half-spoken wishful entreaty that he would remain a little longer. The plaintive, don't go yet, which his poor friend put forth from time to time. He wondered Margaret did not return, but it was with no view of seeing her that he lingered. For the hour and in the presence of one who was so thoroughly feeling the nothingness of earth, he was reasonable and self-controlled. He was deeply interested in all her father said. Of death and of the heavy lull and of the brain that has grown dull. It was curious how the presence of Mr. Thornton had power over Mr. Hale to make him unlock the secret thoughts which he kept shut up even from Margaret. Whether it was that her sympathy would be so keen and show itself in so lively a manner that he was afraid of the reaction upon himself or whether it was that to his speculative mind all kinds of doubts presented themselves at such a time, pleading and crying aloud to be resolved into certainties and that he knew she would have shrunk from the expression of any such doubts. From him himself as capable of conceiving them, whatever was the reason, he could unburden himself better to Mr. Thornton than to her of all the thoughts and fancies and fears that had been frostbound in his brain till now. Mr. Thornton said very little, but every sentence he uttered added to Mr. Hale's reliance and regard for him. Was it that he paused in the expression of some remembered agony Mr. Thornton's two or three words would complete the sentence and show how deeply its meaning was entered into? Was it a doubt, a fear, a wandering uncertainty seeking rest, but finding none so tear-blinded were its eyes? Mr. Thornton, instead of being shocked, seemed to have passed through that very stage of thought himself and could suggest where the exact ray of light was to be found, which should make the dark places plain. Man of action as he was, busy in the world's great battle, there was a deeper religion binding him to God in his heart, in spite of his strong willfulness through all his mistakes than Mr. Hale had ever dreamed. They never spoke of such things again as it happened, but this one conversation made them peculiar people to each other, knit them together in a way which no loose and discriminant talking about sacred things can ever accomplish. When all were admitted, how can there be a holy of holies? And all this while, Margaret lay as still and white as death on the study floor, she had sunk under her burden. It had been heavy in weight and long carried, and she had been very meek and patient, till all at once her faith had given way and she had groped in vain for help. There was a pitiful contraction of suffering upon her beautiful brows, although there was no other sign of consciousness remaining. The mouth, a little while ago, so sullenly projected to the defiance, was relaxed and livid. A parque de la sualabia se movó una espíritu suave y pienden mor, quiva descendo a la nema suspira. The first symptom of returning life was a quivering about the lips, a little mute, soundless attempt at speech, but the eyes were still closed and the quivering sank into stillness. Then, feebly leaning on her arms for an instant to study herself, Margaret gathered herself up in rows. Her comb had fallen out of her hair and with an intuitive desire to efface the traces of weakness and bring herself into order again. She sought for it, although from time to time, in the course of the search, she had to sit down and recover strength. Her head drooped forwards, her hands meekly laid one upon the other. She tried to recall the force of her temptation by endeavoring to remember the details which had thrown her into such deadly fright, but she could not. She only understood two facts, that Frederick had been in danger of being pursued and detected in London as not only guilty of manslaughter, but as the more unpardonable leader of the mutiny and that she had lied to save him. There was one comfort. Her lie had saved him, if only by gaining some additional time. If the inspector came again tomorrow after she had received the letter she longed for to assure her of her brother's safety, she would brave shame and stand in her bitter penance. She, the lofty Margaret, acknowledging before a crowded justice room, if need were, that she had been as a dog and done this thing. But if he came before she heard from Frederick, if he returned as he had half threatened in a few hours, why, she would tell that lie again, though how the words would come out after all this terrible pause for reflection and self-reproach without betraying her falsehood she did not know, she could not tell. But her repetition of it would gain time, time for Frederick. She was roused by Dixon's entrance into the room. She had just been letting out Mr. Thornton. He had hardly gone ten steps in the street before a passing omnibus stopped close by him and a man got down and came up to him, touching his hat as he did so. Mr. Thornton had obtained for him his first situation in the police and had heard from time to time of the progress of his protégé, but they had not often met and at first Mr. Thornton did not remember him. My name is Watson, George Watson sir, that you got, ah yes, I recollect, why you were getting on famously I hear. Yes sir, I ought to thank you sir, but it is on a little matter of business I made so bold as to speak to you now. I believe you were the magistrate who attended to take down the deposition of a poor man who died in the infirmary last night. Yes, replied Mr. Thornton, I went and heard some kind of a rambling statement which the clerk said was of no great use. I'm afraid he was but a drunken fellow, though there is no doubt he came to his death by violence at last. One of my mother's servants was engaged to him, I believe, and she is in great distress today. What about him? Why sir, his death is oddly mixed up with somebody in the house I saw you coming out of just now. It was a Mr. Hales, I believe. Yes, said Mr. Thornton, turning sharp round and looking into the inspector's face with sudden interest. What about it? Why sir, it seems to me that I have got a pretty distinct chain of evidence inculpating a gentleman who was walking with Miss Hale that night at the outwood station as the man who struck or pushed Linnards off the platform and so caused his death but the young lady denies that she was there at the time. Miss Hale denies she was there, repeated Mr. Thornton in an altered voice. Tell me, what evening was it? What time? About six o'clock on the evening of Thursday the twenty-sixth. They walked on, side by side, in silence for a minute or two. The inspector was the first to speak. You see sir, there is like to be a coroner's enquest and I've got a young man who is pretty positive, at least he was at first, since he has heard of the young lady's denial he says he should not like to swear but still he's pretty positive that he saw Miss Hale at the station walking about with a gentleman not five minutes before the time when one of the porters saw a scuffle which he set down to some of Linnards impudence in the fall which caused his death and seeing you come out of the very house, sir, I thought I might make bold to ask if you see it's always awkward having to do with cases of disputed identity and one doesn't like to doubt the word of a respectable young woman unless one has strong proof to the contrary. And she denied having been at the station that evening, repeated Mr. Thornton in a low brooding tone. Yes sir, twice over as distinct as could be I told her I should call again but seeing you just as I was on my way back from questioning the young man who said it was her I thought I would ask your advice both as the magistrate who saw Linnards on his deathbed and as the gentleman who got me my birth in the force. You were quite right, said Mr. Thornton. Don't take any steps till you have seen me again. The young lady will expect me to call from what I said. I only want to delay you an hour. It's now three. Come to my warehouse at four. Very well, sir. And they parted company. Mr. Thornton hurried to his warehouse and, certainly forbidding his clerks to allow anyone to interrupt him, he went his way to his own private room and locked the door. Then he indulged himself in the torture of thinking it all over and realizing every detail. How could he have lulled himself into the unsuspicious calm in which the evil image had mirrored itself not two hours before till he had weakly pitied her and yearned towards her and forgotten the savage, distrustful jealousy with which the sight of her and that unknown to him at such an hour in such a place had inspired him? How could one so pure have stooped from her decorous and noble manner of bearing? But was it decorous? Was it? He hated himself for the idea that while it was present thrilled him with its old potency of attraction towards her image. And then this falsehood how terrible must be some dread of shame to be revealed, for after all the provocation given by such a man as Leonard's was, when excited by drinking, might in all probability be more than enough to justify anyone who came forward to state the circumstances openly and without reserve. How creeping and deadly that fear which could bow down until Margaret the falsehood he could almost pity her. What would be the end of it? She could not have considered all she was entering upon if there was an inquest and the young man came forward. Suddenly he started up. There should be no inquest. He would save Margaret. He would take the responsibility of preventing the inquest the issue of which from the uncertainty of the medical testimony which he had vaguely heard the night before in attendance could be but doubtful. The doctors had discovered that internal disease far advanced and sure to prove fatal. They had stated that death might have been accelerated by the fall or by the subsequent drinking and exposure to cold. If he had but known how Margaret would have become involved in the affair if he had but foreseen that she would have stained her whiteness by a falsehood he could have saved her by a word. For the question of inquest or no inquest the young trembling in the balance only the night before Miss Hale might love another was indifferent and contemptuous to him but he would yet do her faithful acts of service of which she should never know. He might despise her but the woman whom he had once loved should be kept from shame and shame it would be to pledge herself to a lie in a public court or otherwise to stand and acknowledge her reason for desiring darkness rather than light. Mr. Thornton looked as he passed out through his wondering clerks. He was away about half an hour and scarcely less stern did he look when he returned although his errand had been successful. He wrote two lines on a slip of paper put it in an envelope and sealed it up. This he gave to one of the clerks saying I appointed Watson he who was a packer in the warehouse and who went into the police to call on me at four o'clock I just met with a gentleman from Liverpool who wishes to see me before he leaves town take care to give this note to Watson he calls. The note contained these words there will be no inquest medical evidence not sufficient to justify it take no further steps I have not seen the coroner but I will take the responsibility well thought Watson it relieves me from an awkward job none of my witnesses seem certain of anything except the young woman she was clear and distinct enough and the porter at the railroad had seen a scuffle or when he found it was likely to bring him in as a witness then it might not have been a scuffle only a little larking and Linnards might have jumped off the platform himself he would not stick firm to anything and Jennings the roasters shopman well he was not quite so bad but I doubt if I could have got him up to an oath after he heard that Miss Hale flatly denied it it was a troublesome job and no satisfaction and now I must go and tell them they won't be wanted he accordingly presented himself again at Mr. Hale's that evening her father and Dixon would feign have persuaded Margaret to go to bed but they, neither of them, knew the reason for her low continued refusals to do so Dixon had learnt part of the truth but only part Margaret would not tell any human being of what she had said and she did not reveal the fatal termination of the fall from the platform so Dixon's curiosity combined with her allegiance to urge Margaret to go to rest, which her appearance as she lay on the sofa showed but too clearly that she required she did not speak except when spoken to she tried to smile back and reply to her father's anxious looks in words of tender inquiry but instead of a smile the wand lips resolved themselves into a sigh he was so miserably uneasy that at last she consented her own room and prepared for going to bed she was indeed inclined to give up the idea that the inspector would call again that night as it was already past nine o'clock she stood by her father holding on to the back of his chair you will go to bed soon papa won't you don't sit up alone what his answer was she did not hear the words were lost in the far smaller point of sound that magnified itself to her fears and filled her brain there was a low ring at the doorbell she kissed her father and glided downstairs with the rapidity of motion which no one would have thought her capable who had seen her the minute before she put aside Dixon don't come I will open the door I know it is him I can I must manage it all myself as you please miss said Dixon testily but in a moment afterwards she added but you're not fit for it you're dead than alive am I said Margaret turning round and showing her eyes all aglow with strange fire her cheeks flushed though her lips were baked and livid still she opened the door to the inspector and proceeded him into the study she placed the candle on the table and snuffed it carefully before she turned round and faced him you were late said she well she held her breath for the answer to have given any unnecessary trouble ma'am for after all they've given up all thoughts of holding an inquest I have had other work to do and other people to see or I should have been here before now then it is ended said Margaret there's to be no further inquiry I believe I've got Mr. Thornton's note about me said the inspector fumbling in his pocketbook Mr. Thornton's said Margaret yes he's a magistrate ah here it is she could not see to read it no not although she was close to the candle the words swam before her but she held it in her hand and looked at it as if she were intently studying it I'm sure ma'am it's a great weight off my mind for the evidence was so uncertain you see that the man had received any blow at all and if any question of identity came in it so complicated the case as I told Mr. Thornton Mr. Thornton said Margaret again I met him this morning just as he was coming out of this house and as he's an old friend of mine besides being the magistrate who saw Leonard's last night I made bold to tell him of my difficulty Margaret sighed deeply she did not want to hear anymore she was afraid of like of what she had heard and of what she might hear she wished that the man would go she forced herself to speak thank you for calling it is very late I dare say it is past ten o'clock oh here is the note she continued suddenly interpreting the meaning of the hand held out to receive it he was putting it up when she said I think it is a cramped dazzling sort of writing I could not read it will you just read it to me he read it aloud to her thank you you told Mr. Thornton that I was not there oh of course ma'am I'm sorry now that I acted upon information which seems to have been so erroneous at first the young man was so positive and now he says that he doubted all along in hopes that his mistake won't have occasioned you such annoyance as to lose their shop your custom good night ma'am good night she rang the bell for Dixon to show him out as Dixon returned up the passage Margaret passed her swiftly it is all right she was so happy without looking at Dixon and before the woman could follow her with further questions she had sped upstairs and entered her bed chamber and bolted her door she threw herself dressed as she was upon her bed she was too much exhausted to think half an hour or more lapsed before the cramped nature of her position and the chilliness supervening upon great fatigue had the power to rouse her numb faculties then she began to recall her wonder the first idea that presented itself to her was that all this sickening alarm on Frederick's behalf was over that the strain was passed the next was a wish to remember every word of the inspectors which related to Mr. Thornton when had he seen him what had he said what had Mr. Thornton done what were the exact words of his note and until she could recollect even to the placing or omitting an article the very expressions that she had used in the note her mind refused to go on with its progress but the next conviction she came to was clear enough Mr. Thornton had seen her close to Outwood station on the fatal Thursday night and had been told of her denial that she was there she stood as a liar in his eyes she was a liar but she had no thought of penitence before God nothing but chaos and night surrounded the one lurid fact that in Mr. Thornton's eyes she cared not to think even to herself of how much of excuse she might plead that had nothing to do with Mr. Thornton she never dreamed that he or anyone else could find cause for suspicion and what was so natural as her accompanying her brother but what was really false and wrong was known to him and he had a right to judge her oh Frederick Frederick she cried what have I not sacrificed for you even when she fell asleep her thoughts were compelled to travel the same circle only with exaggerated and monstrous circumstances of pain when she awoke a new idea flashed upon her with all the brightness of the morning Mr. Thornton had learnt her falsehood before he went to the coroner that suggested the thought that he had possibly been influenced so to do with a view of sparing her the repetition of her denial but she pushed this notion on one side with the slick wolfiness of a child but were so she felt no gratitude to him as it only showed her how keenly he must have seen that she was disgraced already before he took such unwanted pains to spare her any further trial of truthfulness which had already failed so signally she would have gone through the hole she would have perjured herself to save Frederick rather far rather than Mr. Thornton should have had the knowledge that prompted him to interfere to save her what ill fate brought him in contact with the inspector what made him be the very magistrate sent for to receive Leonard's deposition what had Leonard said how much of it was intelligible to Mr. Thornton who might already for ought she knew be aware of the old accusation against Frederick through their mutual friend Mr. Bell if so he had striven to save the son who came into defiance of the law to attend his mother's death bed and under this idea she could feel grateful not yet if ever she should if his interference had been prompted by contempt oh had anyone such just cause to feel contempt for her Mr. Thornton above all people on whom she had looked down from her imaginary heights till now she suddenly found herself at his feet and was strangely distressed at her fall she shrank from following out the premises to their conclusion and so acknowledging to herself how much she valued his respect and good opinion whenever this idea presented itself to her at the end of a long avenue of thoughts she turned away from following that path she would not believe in it it was later than she fancied from the agitation of the previous night she had forgotten to wind up her watch and Mr. Hale had given a special orders that she was not to be disturbed by the usual awakening by and by the door open cautiously and Dixon put her head in perceiving that Margaret was awake she came forwards with a letter here's something to do you good miss a letter from master Frederick thank you Dixon how late it is she spoke very languidly and suffered Dixon to lay it on the counter pain before her without putting out a hand to take it you want your breakfast I'm sure I will bring it you in a minute master has got the tray already I know Margaret did not reply to her go she felt that she must be alone before she could open that letter she opened it at last the first thing that caught her eye was the date two days earlier than she received it he had then written when he had promised and their alarm might have been spared but she would read the letter in C it was hasty enough but perfectly satisfactory he had seen Henry Lennox who knew enough of the case to shake his head over it in the first instance very daring thing in returning to England with such an accusation backed by such powerful influence hanging over him but when they had come to talk it over Mr. Lennox had acknowledged that there might be some chance of his acquittal if he could but prove his statements by credible witnesses then in such case it might be worthwhile to stand his trial otherwise it would be a great risk he would examine he would take every pains it struck me said Frederick that your introduction little sister of mine went a long way is it so? he made many inquiries I can assure you he seemed a sharp intelligent fellow and in good practice too to judge from the signs of business and the number of clerks about him but these may be only lawyer's dodges I have just caught a packet on the point of sailing I am off in five minutes I may have to come back to England again on this business so keep my visit secret I shall send my father some rare old sherry such as you cannot buy in England such stuff as I've got in the bottle before me he needs something of the kind my dear love to him God bless him I'm sure here's my cab PS what an escape that was take care you don't breathe of my having been not even to the shaws Margaret turned to the envelope it was marked too late the letter had probably been trusted to some careless waiter who had forgotten to post it oh, what slight cobwebs of chances stand between us in temptation Frederick had been safe and out of England twenty, nay thirty hours ago and it was only about seventeen hours since she had told a falsehood to baffle pursuit which even then would have been vain how faithless she had been where now was her proud motto face to queda at the end quepoie if she had but dared to bravely tell the truth as regarded herself defying them to find out what she refused to tell concerning another how light of heart she would now have felt not humbled before God as having failed in trust towards him not degraded and abased in Mr. Thornton's sight she caught herself up at this with a miserable tremor here was she classing his low opinion of her alongside with the displeasure of God how was it that he haunted her imagination so persistently what could it be why did she care for what he thought in spite of all her pride in spite of herself she believed that she could have borne the sense of almighty displeasure because he knew all and could read her penitence and hear her cries for help in time to come but Mr. Thornton why did she tremble and hide her face in the pillow what strong feeling had overtaken her at last she sprang out of bed and prayed long and earnestly it soothed and comforted her so to open her heart but as soon as she reviewed her position she found the sting was still there that she was not good enough not pure enough to be indifferent to the lower opinion of a fellow creature that the thought of how he must be looking upon her with contempt stood between her and her sense of wrongdoing she took her lettered into her father as soon as she was dressed there was no slight an illusion to their alarm at the railroad station that Mr. Hale passed over it without paying indeed beyond the mere fact of Frederick having sailed undiscovered and unsuspected he did not gather much from the letter at the time he was so uneasy about Margaret's pallid looks she seemed continually on the point of weeping you were sadly overdone Margaret it is no wonder but you must let me nurse you now he made her lie down on the sofa and went for a shawl to cover her with his tenderness released her tears and cried bitterly poor child poor child said he looking fondly at her as she lay with her face to the wall shaking with her sobs after a while they ceased and she began to wonder whether she durst to give herself the relief of telling her father of all her trouble but there were more reasons against it than for it the only one for it was the relief to herself and against it was the thought that it would add materially to her father's nervousness if it were indeed necessary for Margaret to come to England again that he would dwell on the circumstance of his sons having caused the death of a man however unwittingly and unwillingly that this knowledge would perpetually recur to trouble him in various shapes of exaggeration and distortion from the simple truth and about her own great fault he would be distressed beyond measure at her want of courage and faith yet perpetually troubled to make excuses for her formerly Margaret would have come to him as priest to tell him of her temptation and her sin but laterally they had not spoken much on such subjects and she knew not how in his change of opinions he would reply if the depth of her soul called unto his no, she would keep her secret and bear the burden alone alone she would go before God and cry for his absolution alone she would endure her disgraced position in the opinion of Mr. Thornton she was unspeakably touched by the efforts of her father to think of cheerful subjects on which to talk and so to take her thoughts away from dwelling on all that had happened of late it was some months since he had been so talkative as he was this day he would not let her sit up and offended Dixon desperately by insisting on waiting upon her himself at last she smiled a poor weak little smile but it gave him the truest pleasure it seems strange to think that what gives us most hope for the future should be called Dolores, said Margaret the remark was more in character with her father than with her usual self but today they seem to have changed natures her mother was a Spaniard, I believe that accounts for her religion her father was a stiff Presbyterian when I knew him but it is a very soft and pretty name how young she is younger by fourteen months than I am just the age that Edith was when she was engaged to Captain Lennox Papa, we will go and see them in Spain he shook his head but he said, if you wish it Margaret only let us come back here it would seem unfair unkind to your mother who always I'm afraid disliked Milton so much if we left it now she is lying here and cannot go with us no dear, you shall go and see them and bring me back a report of my Spanish daughter no Papa I won't go without you who is to take care of you when I am gone I should like to know which of us is taking care of the other but if you went I should persuade Mr. Thornton to let me give him double lessons we would work up the classics famously that would be perpetual interest you might go on and see Edith at Corfu if you liked Margaret did not speak all at once then she said rather gravely thank you Papa but I don't want to go we will hope that Mr. Lennox will manage so well that Frederick may bring Dolores to see us when they are married and as for Edith the regiment won't remain much longer in Corfu perhaps we shall see both of them here before another year is out Mr. Hale's cheerful subjects had come to an end some painful recollection had stolen across his mind and driven him into silence by and by Margaret said Papa did you see Nicholas Higgins at the funeral he was there and married to poor fellow it was his way of showing sympathy he has a good warm heart under his bluff abrupt ways I am sure of it replied Mr. Hale I saw it all along even while you tried to persuade me that he was all sorts of bad things we will go and see them tomorrow if you were strong enough to walk so far oh yes I want to see them we did not pay Mary or rather she refused to take it Dixon says so so was to catch him just after his dinner and before he goes to his work towards evening Mr. Hale said I half expected Mr. Thornton would have called he spoke of a book yesterday which he had and which I wanted to see he said he would try and bring it today Margaret sighed she knew he would not come he would be too delicate to run the chance of meeting her while her shame must be so fresh in his memory the very mention of his name renewed her trouble and produced her relapse into the feeling of depressed preoccupied exhaustion she gave way to listless languor suddenly it struck her that this was a strange manner to show her patience or to reward her father for his watchful care of her all through the day she sat up and offered to read aloud his eyes were failing and he gladly accepted her proposal she read well she gave the due emphasis but had anyone asked her when she had ended reading of what she had been reading she could not have told she was smitten with a feeling of ingratitude to Mr. Thornton and as much as in the morning she had refused to accept the kindness he had shown her in making further inquiry from the medical men so as to obviate any inquest being held oh, she was grateful she had been cowardly and false and had shown her cowardliness and falsehood in action that could not be recalled but she was not ungrateful to her heart to know how she could feel towards one who had reason to despise her his cause for contempt was so just that she should have respected him less if she had thought he did not feel contempt it was a pleasure to feel how thoroughly she respected him he could not prevent her doing that it was the one comfort in all this misery late in the evening the expected book arrived with Mr. Thornton's kind regards and wishes to know how Mr. Hale is say that I am much better Dixon but that Miss Hale no papa, said Margaret eagerly don't say anything about me he does not ask my dear child how you were shivering said her father a few minutes afterwards you must go to bed directly you have turned quite pale Margaret did not refuse to go though she was loath to leave her father alone she needed the relief of solitude after a day of busy thinking and busier repenting but she seemed much as usual the next day the lingering gravity and sadness in the occasional absence of mind were not unnatural symptoms in the early days of grief and almost in proportion to her re-establishment and help was her father's relapse into as abstracted musing upon the wife he had lost and the past era in his life that was closed to him forever End of Chapter 35 Recording by Leanne Howlett Chapter 36 of North and South This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Leanne Howlett North and South by Elizabeth Clegghorn Gaskell Chapter 36 Union Not Always Strength The Steps of the Bearers Heavy and Slow The Sobs of the Morners Deep and Low Shelley At the time arranged the previous day they sat out on their walk to see Nicholas Higgins and his daughter They both were reminded of their recent loss by a strange kind of shyness in their new habiliments and in the fact that it was the first time for many weeks that they had deliberately on out together very close to each other in unspoken sympathy. Nicholas was sitting by the fireside in his accustomed corner but he had not his accustomed pipe He was leaning his head upon his hand his arm resting on his knee He did not get up when he saw them though Margaret could read the welcome in his eye Sit ye down, sit ye down fires welly out said he giving a vigorous poke as if to turn attention away from himself He was rather disorderly to be sure with a black unshaven beard of several days growth making his pale face look yet paler and a jacket which would have been all the better for patching We thought we should have a good chance of finding you just after dinner time said Margaret We have had our sorrow too since we saw you said Mr. Hale Eye, eye Sorrows is more plentiful than dinners just now stretches all over the day you're pretty sure of finding me Are you out of work? asked Margaret Eye, he replied shortly Then after a moment's silence he added looking up for the first time I'm not wanting brass Don't you think it Best poor lass had a little stock under her pillow ready to slip into my hand last moment and Mary is fustion cutting but I'm out of work all the same We owe Mary some money said Mr. Hale before Margaret's sharp pressure on his arm could arrest the words If who takes it I'll turn her out of doors I'll bite inside these four walls and she'll bite out that's all But we owe her many thanks for her kind service began Mr. Hale again I never thanked your daughter there for her deeds of love to my poor wench I never could find the words I'd have to begin and try now I'm making an adieu about what little Mary could serve you Is it because of the strike you're out of work asked Margaret gently Strikes ended It's oar for this time I'm out of work because I never ask for it and I never ask for it because good words it's scarce and bad words is plentiful He was in a mood to take a surly pleasure in giving answers that were like riddles but Margaret saw that he would like to be asked for the explanation of our asking for work I reckon them's almost the best words that men can say give me work means and I'll do it like a man them's good words and bad words are refusing you work when you ask for it I bad words is saying aha my fine chap you've been true to your order and I'll be true to mine you did the best you could for them as wanted help that's your way of being true to your kind I'll be true to mine you've been a poor fool as know no better nor be a true faithful fool so go and be damned to you there's no work for you here them's bad words I'm not a fool and if I was folk ought to have taught me how to be wise after their fashion I could map and alert if anyone had tried to teach me would it not be worthwhile said Mr. Hale to ask your old master if he would take you back again there's no chance but it would be a chance he looked up again with a sharp glance at the questioner and then tittered a low and bitter laugh master if it's no offence I'll ask you a questioner too in my turn you're quite welcome said Mr. Hale I reckon you own some way of earning your bread folk seldom lives in Milton lust for pleasure if they can live anywhere else you are quite right I have some independent property but my intention in settling in Milton was to become a private tutor to teach folk well I reckon they pay you for teaching them do not they yes replied Mr. Hale smiling I teach in order to get paid and then they pay you then they tell you what not to do or what not to do with the money they give you and just payment for your pains and fair exchange like no to be sure not they don't say you may have a brother or a friend as dear as a brother who wants this here brass for a purpose both you and he think right but you'll one promise not to give it to them you may see a good use as you think to put your money to but we don't think it good and so if you spend it that will just leave off dealing with you they don't say that don't they no to be sure not would you stand that if they did it would be some very hard pressure that would make me even think of submitting to such dictation there is not the pressure on all the broad earth that would make me said Nicholas Higgins now you've got it you've hit the bull's eye hampers that's where I worked makes their men pledge themselves they'll not give a penny to help the union or keep turnouts from climbing they may pledge and make pledge continued he scornfully they know but make liars and hypocrites and that's a less sin to my mind to making men's hearts so hard that they'll not do a kindness to them as needs it or help on the right and just cause though it goes against the strong hand but I'll never forswear myself for the work the king could give me I'm a member of the union and I think it's the only thing to do the workmen any good and I've been a turn out and known what it were to Clem so if I get a shilling six pints shall go to them if they ax it from me consequences I don't see where I'm to get a shilling is that rule about not contributing to the union is that all the mills asked Margaret I cannot say it's a new regulation at iron and I reckon they'll find that they cannot stick to it but it's in force now by and by they'll find out tyrants makes liars there was a little pause Margaret was hesitating whether she should say what was in her mind she was unwilling to irritate one who was already gloomy and despondent enough at last out it came but in her soft tones and with her reluctant manner showing that she was unwilling to say anything unpleasant it did not seem to annoy Higgins only to perplex him do you remember poor Boucher saying that the union was a tyrant I think he said it was the worst tyrant of all and I remember at the time I agreed with him it was a long while before he spoke he was resting his head on his two hands and looking down into the fire so she could not read the expression on his face I'll not deny but what the union finds it necessary to force a man into his own good I'll speak truth a man needs a dreary life who's not in the union but once in the union his interests are taken care on better nor he could do it for himself or by himself for that matter it's the only way working men can get their rights by all joining together more the members of justice done him government takes care of fools and madmen and if any man is inclined to do himself or his neighbor a hurt it puts a bit of a check on him whether he likes it or no that's all we do in the union we can't clap folk into prison but we can make a man's life so heavy to be born that he's obliged to come in and be wise and helpful in spite of himself Boucher were a fool all along a narrow worse fool than at the last he did you harm asked Margaret I that did he we had public opinion on our side till he and his sort began rioting and breaking laws that were all over with the strike then then would it not have been far better to have left him alone and not forced him to join the union he did you no good and you drove him mad Margaret said her father in a low and warning tone where he saw the cloud gathering on Higgins face I like her said Higgins suddenly who speaks plain out what's in her mind who doesn't comprehend the union for all that it's a great power it's our only power I have read a bit of poetry about a plow going over a daisy as made tears come into my eyes a four-eyed other cause for crying but the chap and air stopped driving the plow eyes warrant for all he were pitiful about the daisy he too much mother-wit for that the union's the plow making ready the land for harvest time such as Boucher would be setting him up too much to liken him to a daisy he's like her a weed lounging over the ground men just make up their mind to be put out the way I'm sore vex with him just now so map and I do not speak him fair I could go or him with a plow myself whether the pleasure in life why what has he been doing anything fresh I to be sure he's narrow out a mischief that man first of all he must go raging like a mad fool and kick up young riot then he to go into hiding where he'd been yet if Thornton had followed him out as I'd hoped he would have done but Thornton having got his own purpose didn't care to go on with the prosecution for the riot so Boucher slunk back again to his house he near showed himself abroad for a day or two he had that grace and then where think he that he went to get a hampers damn him he went with his mealy mouth face that turns me sick to look at asking for work though he knowed well enough the new rule pledging themselves to give not to the unions not to help the starving turn out why he to cling to death if the union hadn't helped him in his pinch there he went assing to promise ought and pledge himself to ought to tell all he knowed on our proceedings the good for nothing Judas but I'll say this for hamper he drove Boucher away and wouldn't listen to him near a word though folk standing by says the traitor cried like a baby oh how shocking how pitiful exclaimed Margaret Higgins I don't know you today don't you see how you've made Boucher what he is by driving him into the union against his will without his heart going with it you have made him what he is made him what he is what was he gathering along the narrow street came a hollow measured sound now forcing itself on their attention many voices were hushed and low many steps were heard not moving onwards at least not with any rapidity or steadiness of motion but as if circling round one spot yes there was one distinct slow tramp of feet which made itself a clear path through the air and reached their ears the measured labored walk of men carrying a heavy burden drawn towards the house door by some irresistible impulse impelled thither not by a poor curiosity but as if by some solemn blast six men walked in the middle of the road three of them being policemen they carried a door taken off its hinges upon their shoulders on which lay some dead human creature and from each side of the door there were constant droppings all the street turned out to see and seeing to accompany the procession each one questioning the bearers who answered almost reluctantly at last so often had they told the tale we found him in the brook in the field beyond there the brook why there's not water enough to drown him he was a determined chap he lay with his face downwards he was sick enough of living she was what cause he had for it Higgins crept up to Margaret's side and said in a weak piping kind of voice it's not John Boucher he hadn't a spunk enough sure, it's not John Boucher why they were looking this way listen, I was singing in my head and I cannot hear they put the door down carefully upon the stones and all might see the poor drowned wretch his glassy eyes one half open staring white upwards to the sky owing to the position in which he had been found lying his face was swollen and discolored besides his skin was stained by the water in the brook which had been used for dying purposes the four part of his head was bald but the hair grew thin and long behind and every separate lock was a conduit for water through all these disfigurements Margaret recognized John Boucher it seemed to her so sacrilegious to be peering into that poor distorted agonized face that by a flash of instinct she went forwards and softly covered the dead man's countenance with a handkerchief the eyes that saw her do this followed her as she turned away from her pious office and were thus led to the place where Nicholas Higgins stood like one rooted to the spot the men spoke together and then one of them came up to Higgins who would have feigned shrunk back into his house Higgins, thou note him thou one go tell the wife do it gently man but do it quick for we cannot leave him here long I cannot go said Higgins ask me, I cannot face her thou knows her best said the man when done a deal in bringing him here thou take thy share I cannot do it said Higgins I'm well he felt was seeing him who wasn't friends and now he's dead well if thou want it thou want it someone man though it's a dre task but it's a chance every minute and she doesn't hear on it in some rougher way nor a person going to make her let on by degrees Papa, do you go said Margaret in a low voice if I could if I had time to think of what I had better say but all at once Margaret saw that her father was indeed unable he was trembling from head to foot I will go said she bless you miss it will be a kind act for she's been but a sickly sort of body I hear and few hear abouts no much on her Margaret knocked at the closed door but there was such a noise as of many little ill ordered children that she could hear no reply indeed she doubted if she was heard and as every moment of delay made her recoil from her task more and more she opened the door and went in shutting it after her and even unseen to the woman fastening the bolt Mrs. Boucher was sitting in a rocking chair on the other side of the ill read up fireplace it looked as if the house had been untouched for days by any effort at cleanliness Margaret said Margaret said something she hardly knew what her throat and mouth were so dry and the children's noise completely prevented her from being heard she tried again how are you Mrs. Boucher but very poorly I'm afraid I've no chance of being well said she equirulously I'm left alone to manage these children not for to give them for to keep them quiet John shouldn't have left me and me so poorly how long is it since he went away four days sin no one would give him work here and he'd to go on tramp toward Greenfield but he might have been back before this or sent me some word if he'd gotten work he might oh don't blame him said Margaret he felt it deeply I'm sure Will too hold thy den and let me hear the lady speak addressing herself a no very gentle voice to a little urchin of about a year old she apologetically continued to Margaret he's always mothering me for daddy and buddy and I had no buddies to give him and daddy's away and forgotten as I think he's his father's darling he is said she with a sudden turn of mood and dragging the child up to her knees she began kissing it fondly Margaret laid her hand on the woman's arm to arrest her attention their eyes met poor little fellow said Margaret slowly he was his father's darling he is his father's darling said the woman rising hastily and standing face to face with Margaret neither of them spoke for a moment or two then Mrs. Boucher began in a low growling tone gathering in wildness as she went on he is his father's darling I say poor folk can love their children as well as rich why don't you speak why don't you stare at me with your great pitiful eyes where's John weak as she was she shook Margaret and forced out an answer oh my god said she understanding the meaning of that tearful look she sank back into the chair Margaret took up the child and put him into her arms he loved him said she I said the woman shaking her head he loved us all we had someone to love us once it's a long time ago but when he were in life and with us he did love us he did he loved this babby mapping the best on us he loved him though I was calling him five minutes ago are you sure he's dead said she trying to get up if it's only that he's ill and like to die they may bring him round yet I'm but an ailing creature myself I've been ailing this long time but he is dead he is drowned folks are brought round after they're dead drowned what was I thinking of to sit still when I should be stirring myself here whisty child take this take out to play with but don't cry while my heart's breaking oh where has my strength gone to oh John husband Margaret saved her from falling by catching her in her arms she sat down in the rocking chair and held the woman upon her knees her head laying on Margaret's shoulder the other children clustered together in a fright began to understand the mystery of the scene but the ideas came slowly they were dull and languid of perception they set up such a cry of despair as they guessed the truth that Margaret knew not how to bear it Johnny's cry was loudest of them all though he knew not why he cried poor little fellow the mother quivered as she lay in Margaret's arms Margaret heard a noise at the door open it open it quick said she to the eldest child it's bolted make no noise be very still oh papa let them go upstairs very softly and carefully and perhaps she will not hear them she is fainted that's all it's as well for her poor creature said a woman following in the wake of the bearers of the dead but you're not fit to hold her stay I'll run fetch a pillow and we'll let her down easy on the floor this helpful neighbor was a great relief to Margaret she was evidently a stranger to the house a newcomer in the district indeed but she was so kind and thoughtful that Margaret felt she was no longer needed and that it would be better perhaps to set an example of clearing the house which was filled with idle if sympathizing gazers she looked around for Nicholas Higgins he was not there so she spoke to the woman who had taken the lead in placing Mrs. Boucher on the floor can you give all these people a hint that they had better leave than quietness so that when she comes around she should only find one or two that she knows about her and all will you speak to the men and get them to go away she cannot breathe poor thing with this crowd about her Margaret was kneeling down by Mrs. Boucher and bathing her face with vinegar but in a few minutes she was surprised at the gush of fresh air she looked around and saw a smile passed between her father and the woman what is it? asked she only our good friend here replied her father hit on a capital expedient for clearing the place I bid him be gone and each take a child with him and to mind that they were orphans and their mother a widow it was who could do most and the children are sure of a belly full today and of kindness too those who know how he died no said Margaret I could not tell her all at once the woman be told because of the inquest see who's coming round show your eye do it our map and your father would be best no you, you said Margaret they awaited her perfect recovery in silence then the neighbor woman sat down on the floor and took Mrs. Boucher's head and shoulders on her lap neighbor said she your man is dead guess you how he died he were drowned said Mrs. Boucher feebly beginning to cry for the first time at this rough probing of her sorrows he were found drowned he were coming home very hopeless he thought God could not be harder than men mapping not so hard mapping as tender as a mother mapping tenderer I'm not saying he did right and I'm not saying he did wrong all I say is may neither me nor mine ever have his sore heart or we may do like things he has left me alone with all these children moaned the widow less distressed at the manner of the death than Margaret expected but it was of a peace with her helpless character to feel his loss as principally affecting herself and her children not alone, said Mr. Hill solemnly who is with you who will take up your cause the widow opened her eyes wide and looked at the new speaker of whose presence she had not been aware till then who is promised to be a father to the fatherless, continued he but I've gotten six children, sir in the eldest not eight years of age I'm not meaning for to doubt his power, sir only it needs a deal of trust and she began to cry afresh who will be better able to talk tomorrow, sir, said the neighbor best comfort now would be the feel of a child at her heart I'm sorry they took the babby I'll go for it, said Margaret and in a few minutes she returned carrying Johnny his face all smeared with eating and his hands loaded with treasures in the shape of shells and bits of crystal and the head of a plaster figure she placed him in his mother's arms there, said the woman now you go try together and comfort together better nor any one but a child can do I'll stop with her as long as I needed and if you come tomorrow you can have a deal of wise talk with her that she's not up to today as Margaret and her father went slowly up the street she paused at Higgins' closed door shall we go in, asked her father I was thinking of him too they knocked there was no answer so they tried the door but they thought they heard him moving within Nicholas, said Margaret there was no answer and they might have gone away believing the house to be empty if there had not been some accidental fall as of a book within Nicholas, said Margaret again it is only us won't you let us come in no, said he I spoke as plain as I could about using words when I bolted the door let me be this day I would have urged their desire but Margaret placed her finger on his lips I don't wonder at it said she I myself long to be alone it seems the only thing to do one good after a day like this End of Chapter 36 Recording by Leanne Howlett