UNDER THE STORM or STEADFAST'S CHARGE By Charlotte M. Yonge Author of "The Heir of Redclyffe, " &c. [Illustration: Cover] CONTENTS. Chapter I. --The Trust " II. --The Stragglers " III. --Kirk Rapine " IV. --The Good Cause " V. --Desolation " VI. --Left to Themselves " VII. --The Hermit's Gulley " VIII. --Stead in Possession " IX. --Wintry Times " X. --A Terrible Harvest Day " XI. --The Fortunes of War " XII. --Farewell to the Cavaliers " XIII. --Godly Venn's Troop " XIV. --The Question " XV. --A Table of Love in the Wilderness " XVI. --A Fair Offer " XVII. --The Groom in Grey " XVIII. --Jeph's Good Fortune " XIX. --Patience " XX. --Emlyn's Service " XXI. --The Assault of the Cavern " XXII. --Emlyn's Troth " XXIII. --Fulfilment LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Farewell to the Cavaliers The Hiding of the Casket Stead Stirring the Porridge Finding of Emlyn Stead before the Roundheads Emlyn at Market UNDER THE STORM: OR STEADFAST'S CHARGE. CHAPTER I. THE TRUST. "I brought them here as to a sanctuary. " SOUTHEY. Most of us have heard of the sad times in the middle of the seventeenthcentury, when Englishmen were at war with one another and quiet villagesbecame battlefields. We hear a great deal about King and Parliament, great lords and ablegenerals, Cavaliers and Roundheads, but this story is to help us tothink how it must have gone in those times with quiet folk in cottagesand farmhouses. There had been peace in England for a great many years, ever since theend of the wars of the Roses. So the towns did not want fortificationsto keep out the enemy, and their houses spread out beyond the old walls;and the country houses had windows and doors large and wide open, withno thought of keeping out foes, and farms and cottages were freelyspread about everywhere, with their fields round them. The farms were very small, mostly held by men who did all the workthemselves with the help of their families. Such a farm belonged to John Kenton of Elmwood. It lay at the head of along green lane, where the bushes overhead almost touched one anotherin the summer, and the mud and mire were very deep in winter; but thatmattered the less as nothing on wheels went up or down it but the hayor harvest carts, creaking under their load, and drawn by the old mare, with a cow to help her. Beyond lay a few small fields, and then a bit of open ground scatteredwith gorse and thorn bushes, and much broken by ups and downs. There, one afternoon on a big stone was seated Steadfast Kenton, a boy offourteen, sturdy, perhaps loutish, with an honest ruddy face under hisleathern cap, a coarse smock frock and stout gaiters. He was watchingthe fifteen sheep and lambs, the old goose and gander and their ninechildren, the three cows, eight pigs, and the old donkey which got theirliving there. From the top of the hill, beyond the cleft of the river Avon, he couldsee the smoke and the church towers of the town of Bristol, and beyondit, the slime of the water of the Bristol Channel; and nearer, on oneside, the spire of Elmwood Church looked up, and, on the other, thewoods round Elmwood House, and these ran out as it were, lengthening andnarrowing into a wooded cleft or gulley, Hermit's Gulley, which brokethe side of the hill just below where Steadfast stood, and had a littleclear stream running along the bottom. Steadfast's little herd knew the time of day as well as if they all hadwatches in their pockets, and they never failed to go down and have adrink at the brook before going back to the farmyard. They did not need to be driven, but gathered into the rude steep paththat they and their kind had worn in the side of the ravine. Steadfastfollowed, looking about him to judge how soon the nuts would be ripe, while his little rough stiff-haired dog Toby poked about in search ofrabbits or hedgehogs, or the like sport. Steadfast liked that pathway home beside the stream, as boys do loverunning water. Good stones could be got there, water rats might bechased, there were strawberries on the banks which he gathered andthreaded on stalks of grass for his sisters, Patience and Jerusha. Theyused to come with him and have pleasant games, but it was a long timesince Patience had been able to come out, for in the winter, a grievoustrouble had come on the family. The good mother had died, leaving alittle baby of six weeks old, and Patience, who was only thirteen, hadto attend to everything at home, and take care of poor little sicklyBenoni with no one to help her but her little seven years old sister. The children's lives had been much less bright since that sad day; andSteadfast seldom had much time for play. He knew he must get home asfast as he could to help Patience in milking the cows, feeding the pigsand poultry, and getting the supper, or some of the other things thathis elder brother Jephthah called wench-work and would not do. He could not, however, help looking up at the hole in the side of thesteep cliff, where one might climb up to such a delightful cave, inwhich he and Patience had so often played on hot days. It had been theirsecret, and a kind of palace to them. They had sat there as king andqueen, had paved it with stones from the brook, and had had many plansfor the sports they would have there this summer, little thinking thatPatience would have been turned into a grave, busy little housewife, instead of a merry, playful child. Toby looked up too, and began to bark. There was a rustling in thebushes below the cave, and Steadfast, at first in dismay to see hissecret delight invaded, beheld between the mountain ash boughs and ivy, to his great surprise, a square cap and black cassock tucked up, andthen a bit of brown leathern coat, which he knew full well. It was theVicar, Master Holworth, and his father John Kenton was Churchwarden, so it was no wonder to see him and the Parson together, but what couldbring them here--into Steadfast's cave? and with a dark lantern too!They seemed as surprised, perhaps as vexed as he was, at the sight ofhim, but his father said, "'Tis my lad, Steadfast, I'll answer for him. " "And so will I, " returned the clergyman. "Is anyone with you, my boy?" "No, your reverence, no one save the beasts. " "Then come up here, " said his father. "Someone has been playing here, Isee. " "Patience and I, father, last summer. " "No one else?" "No, no one. We put those stones and those sticks when we made a firethere last year, and no one has meddled with them since. " "Thou and Patience, " said Mr. Holworth thoughtfully. "Not Jephthah northe little maid?" "No, sir, " replied Steadfast, "we would not let them know, because wewanted a place to ourselves. " For in truth the quiet ways and little arrangements of these two hadoften been much disturbed by the rough elder brother who teased andlaughed at them, and by the troublesome little sister, who put herfingers into everything. The Vicar and the Churchwarden looked at one another, and John Kentonmuttered, "True as steel. " "Your father answers for you, my boy, " said the Vicar. "So we will e'enlet you know what we are about. I was told this morn by a sure hand thatthe Parliament men, who now hold Bristol Castle, are coming to deal withthe village churches even as they have dealt with the minster and withSt. Mary's, Redcliffe. " "A murrain on them!" muttered Kenton. "I wot that in their ignorance they do it, " gently quoted the Vicar. "But we would fain save from their hands the holy Chalice and patenwhich came down to our Church from the ancient times--and which bearingon them, as they do, the figure of the Crucifixion of our blessed Lord, would assuredly provoke the zeal of the destroyers. Therefore have weplaced them in this casket, and your father devised hiding them withinthis cave, which he thought was unknown to any save himself--" "Yea, " said John, "my poor brother Will and I were wont to play therewhen we herded the cattle on the hill. It was climbing yon ash tree thatstands out above that he got the fall that was the death of him atlast. I've never gone nigh the place with mine own good will since thatday--nor knew the children had done so--but methought 'twas a lonesomeplace and on mine own land, where we might safest store the holy thingstill better times come round. " "And so I hope they will, " said Mr. Holworth. "I hear good news of the King's cause in the north. " Then they began to consult where to place the precious casket. They hadbrought tinder and matches, and Steadfast, who knew the secrets of thecave even better than his father, showed them a little hollow, far back, which would just hold the chest, and being closed in front with a bigstone, fast wedged in, was never likely to be discovered readily. [Illustration: The Hiding Of The Casket] "This has been a hiding place already. " "Methinks this has once been a chapel, " said the clergyman presently, pointing to some rude carvings--one something like a cross, and a largestone that might have served as an altar. "Belike, " said Kenton, "there's an old stone pile, a mere hovel, downbelow, where my grandfather said he remembered an old monk, a hermit, orsome such gear--a Papist--as lived in hiding. He did no hurt, and wasa man from these parts, so none meddled with him, or gave notice to theQueen's officers, and our folk at the farm sold his baskets at the town, and brought him a barley loaf twice a week till he died, all alone inhis hut. Very like he said his mass here. " John wondered to find that the minister thought this made the placemore suitable. The whole cavern was so low that the two men could hardlystand upright in it, though it ran about twelve yards back. There werewhite limestone drops like icicles hanging above from the roof; andbats, disturbed by the light, came flying about the heads of theirvisitors, while streamers of ivy and old man's beard hung over themouth, and were displaced by the heads of the men. "None is like to find the spot, " said John Kenton, as he tried toreplace the tangled branches that had been pushed aside. "God grant us happier days for bringing it forth, " said the clergyman. All three bared their heads, and Mr. Holworth uttered a few words ofprayer and blessing; then let John help him down the steep scrambleand descent, and looked up to see whether any sign of the cave could bedetected from the edge of the brook. Kenton shook his head reassuringly. "Ah!" said Mr. Holworth, "it minds me that none ever found again theholy Ark of the Covenant that King Josiah and the Prophet Jeremiah hidin a cavern within Mount Pisgah! and our sins be many that have provokedthis judgment! Mayhap the boy will be the only one of us who will seethese blessed vessels restored to their Altar once more! He mayhave been sent hither to that very end. Now, look you, SteadfastKenton--Steadfast thou hast ever been, so far as I have known thee, innature as well as in name. Give me thy word that thou wilt never give upthe secret of yonder cavern to any save a lawfully ordained minister ofthe church. " "No doubt poor old Clerk North will be in distress about the loss, " saidKenton. "True, but he had best not be told. His mind is fast going, and hecannot safely be trusted with such a mighty secret. " "Patience knows the cavern, " murmured Steadfast to his father. "Best have no womenfolk, nor young maids in such a matter, " said theVicar. "My wench takes after her good mother, " said John, "and I ever found mysecrets were safer in her breast than in mine own. Not that I would haveher told without need. But she might take little Rusha there, or makethe place known to others an she be not warned. " "Steadfast must do as he sees occasion, with your counsel, MasterKenton, " said the Vicar. "It is a great trust we place in you, my son, to be as it were in charge of the vessels of the sanctuary, and I wouldhave thy hand and word. " "And, " said his father, "though he be slower in speech than some, yourreverence may trust him. " Steadfast gave his brown red hand, and with head bare said, "I promise, after the minister and before God, never to give up that which lieswithin the cave to any man, save a lawfully ordained minister of theChurch. " CHAPTER II. THE STRAGGLERS. "Trust me, I am exceedingly weary. " SHAKESPEARE. John Kenton, though a Churchwarden, was, as has been said, a very smallfarmer, and the homestead was no more than a substantial cottage, builtof the greystone of the country, with the upper story projecting alittle, and reached by an outside stair of stone. The farm yard, withthe cowsheds, barn, and hay stack were close in front, with only anarrow strip of garden between, for there was not much heed paid toflowers, and few kitchen vegetables were grown in those days, only a fewpotherbs round the door, and a sweet-brier bush by the window. The cows had made their way home of their own accord, and Patience wasmilking one of them already, while little Rusha held the baby, which wasswaddled up as tightly as a mummy, with only his arms free. He stretchedthem out with a cry of gladness as he saw his father, and Kentontook the little creature tenderly in his arms and held him up, whileSteadfast hurried off to fetch the milking stool and begin upon theother cow. "Is Jeph come home?" asked the father, and Rusha answered "No, daddy, though he went ever so long ago, and said he would bring me a cake. " Upon this Master Kenton handed little Benoni back to Rusha, not withoutsome sounds of fretfulness from the baby, but the pigs had to be shut upand fed, and the other evening work of the farmyard done; and it wasnot till all this was over, and Patience had disposed of the milk in thecool cellars, that the father could take him again. Meantime Steadfast had brought up a bucket of water from the spring, and after washing his own hands and face, set out the table with a veryclean, though coarse cloth, five brown bowls, three horn spoons and twowooden ones, one drinking horn, a couple of red earthen cups and twosmall hooped ones of wood, a brown pitcher of small ale, a big barleyloaf, and a red crock, lined with yellow glazing, into which Patiencepresently proceeded to pour from a cauldron, where it had been simmeringover the fire, a mess of broth thickened with meal. This does not soundlike good living, but the Kentons were fairly well-to-do smock-frockfarmers, and though in some houses there might be greater plenty, there was not much more comfort beneath the ranks of the gentry in thecountry. As for seats, the father's big wooden chair stood by the fire, and therewas a long settle, but only stools were used at the table, two being thesame that had served the milkers. Just as Rusha, at her father's sign, had uttered a short Grace, there stood in the doorway a tall, stout, well-made lad of seventeen, with a high-crowned wide-brimmed felt hat, a dark jerkin with sleeves, that, like his breeches and gaiters, were ofleather, and a belt across his shoulder with a knife stuck in it. "Ha! Jeph, " said Kenton, "always in time for meat, whatever else youmiss. " "I could not help it, father, " said Jephthah, "the red coats were attheir exercise!" "And thou couldst not get away from the gape-seed, eh! Come, sit down, boy, and have at thy supper. " "I wish I was one of them, " said Jeph as he sat down. "And thou'dst soon wish thyself back again!" returned his father. "How much did you get for the fowls and eggs?" demanded Patience. Jephthah replied by producing a leathern bag, while Rusha cried out forher cake, and from another pocket came, wrapped in his handkerchief, twoor three saffron buns which were greeted with such joy that his fatherhad not the heart to say much about wasting pence, though it appearedthat the baker woman had given them as part of her bargain for a coupleof dozen of eggs, which Patience declared ought to have brought twopence instead of only three halfpence. Jephthah, however, had far too much news to tell to heed herdisappointment as she counted the money. He declared that the priceof eggs and butter would go up gallantly, for more soldiers were dailyexpected to defend Bristol, and he had further to tell of one of thecaptains preaching in the Minster, and the market people flocking in tohear him. Jeph had been outside, for there was no room within, but hehad scrambled upon an old tombstone with a couple of other lads, andthrough the broken window had seen the gentleman holding forth in hishat and feather, buff coat and crimson scarf, and heard him call on allaround to be strong and hew down all their enemies, even dragging thefalse and treacherous woman and her idols out to the horse gate andthere smiting them even to the death. "Who was the false woman?" asked Steadfast. "I wot not! There was something about Aholah, or some such name, butjust then a mischievous little jackanapes pulled me down by the leg, and I had to thrash him for it, and by the time I had done, Dick, thebutcher's lad, had got my place and I heard no more. " Whether the Captain meant Aholah or Athaliah, or alluded to QueenHenrietta Maria, or to the English Church, Jeph's auditors never knew. The baby began to cry, and Patience to feed him with the milk and waterthat had been warmed at the fire; his father and the boys went out tofinish the work for the night, little Rusha running after them. Presently, she gave a cry and darted up to her father "The soldiers!the soldiers!" and in fact three men with steel caps, buff coats, andmusquets slung by broad belts were coming into the yard. Kenton took up his little girl in his arms and went forward to meetthem, but he soon saw they did not look dangerous, they were draggingalong as if very tired and footsore and as if their weapons were a heavyweight. "It's the goodman, " said the foremost, a red-faced, good-natured lookingfellow more like a hostler than a soldier, "have you seen CaptainLundy's men pass this way?" "Not I!" said Kenton, "we lie out of the high road, you see. " "But I saw them, a couple of hours agone, marching into Bristol, " saidJephthah coming forward. "There now, " said the man, "we did but stop at the sign of the 'Crab'the drinking of a pottle, and to bathe Jack's foot near there, and wehave never been able to catch them up again! How far off be Bristol?" "A matter of four mile across the ferry. You may see it from the hillabove. " He looked stout enough though he gave a heavy sigh of weariness, and theother two, who were mere youths, not much older than Jeph, seemed quitespent, and heard of the additional four miles with dismay. "Heart alive, lads, " said their comrade, "ye'll soon be in goodquarters, and mayhap the goodman here will give you a drink to carry yeon a bit further for the Cause. " "You are welcome to a draught for civility's sake, " said Kenton, makinga sign to his sons, who ran off to the house, "but I'm a plain man, andknow nought about the Cause. " "Well, Master, " said the straggler, as he leant his back against thebarn, and his two companions sat down on the ground in the shelter, "I have heard a lot about the Cause, but all I know is that my Lordof Essex sent to call out five-and-twenty men from our parish, and thesquire, he was in a proper rage with being rated to pay ship money, so--as I had fallen out with my master, mine host of the 'Griffin, ' morefool I--I went with the young gentleman, and a proper ass I was to doso. " "Father said 'twas rank popery railing in the Communion table, when itwas so handy to sit on or to put one's hat on, " added one of the youthslooking up. "So he was willing for me to go, and I thought I'd like tosee the world, but I'd fain be at home again. " "So would not I, " muttered the other lad. "No, " said the ex-tapster humorously, "for thou knowst the stocks begaping for thee, Dick. " By this time Jeph and Stead had returned with a jug of small beer, ahorn cup, and three hunches of the barley loaf. The men ate and drank, and then the tapster returning hearty thanks, called the others on, observing that if they did not make the best speed, they might misstheir billet, and have to sleep in the streets, if not become acquaintedwith the lash. On then unwillingly they dragged, as if one foot would hardly come afterthe other. "Poor lads!" said Kenton, as he looked after them, "methinks that'senough to take the taste for soldiering out of thy mouth, son Jeph. " "A set of poor-spirited rogues, " returned Jeph contemptuously, as henevertheless sauntered on so as to watch them down the lane. "Be they on the right side or the wrong, father?" asked Steadfast, as hepicked up the pitcher and the horn. "They be dead against our parson, lad, " returned Kenton, "and he saysthey be against the Church and the King, though they do take the King'sname, it don't look like the right side to be knocking out churchwindows, eh?" "Nay!" said Steadfast, "but there's them as says the windows be popishidols. " "Never you mind 'em, lad, ye don't bow down to the glass, nor worshipit. Thy blessed mother would have put it to you better than I can, andshe knew the Bible from end to end, but says she 'God would have Hisworship for glory and for beauty in the old times, why not now?'" John Kenton had an immense reverence for his late wife. She had been farmore educated than he, having been born and bred up in the householdof one of those gentlemen who held it as their duty to provide for thereligious instruction of their servants. She had been serving-woman to the lady, who in widowhood went to resideat Bristol, and there during her marketings, honest John Kenton had wonher by his sterling qualities. Puritanism did not mean nonconformity in her days, and in fact everyonewho was earnest and scrupulous was apt to be termed a Puritan. GoodwifeKenton was one of those pious and simple souls who drink in whatever isgood in their surroundings; and though the chaplain who had taught herin her youth would have differed in controversy with Mr. Holworth, shenever discovered their diversity, nor saw more than that ElmwoodChurch had more decoration than the Castle Chapel. Whatever was done byauthority she thought was right, and she found good reason for it inthe Bible and Prayer-book her good lady had given her. She had named herchildren after the prevailing custom of Puritans because she had heardthe chaplain object to what he considered unhallowed heathenish names, but she had been heartily glad that they should be taught and catechisedby the good vicar. Happily for her, in her country home, she did notlive to see the strife brought into her own life. She had taught her children as much as she could. Her husband waswilling, but his old mother disapproved of learning in that station oflife, and aided and abetted her eldest grandson in his resistance, sothat though she had died when he was only eleven or twelve years old, Jephthah could do no more than just make out the meaning of a printedsentence, whereas Steadfast and Patience could both read easily, and didread whatever came in their way, though that was only a broadside balladnow and then besides their mother's Bible and Prayer-book, and one ortwo little black books. The three eldest had been confirmed, when the Bishop of Bath and Wellshad been in the neighbourhood. That was only a fortnight after theirmother died, and even Jeph was sad and subdued. Since that sad day when the good mother had blessed them for the lasttime, there had been little time for anything. Patience had to be thebusy little housewife, and what she would have done without Steadfastshe could not tell. Jeph would never put a hand to what he called maids'work, but Stead would sweep, or beat the butter, or draw the water, or chop wood, or hold the baby, and was always ready to help her, eventhough it hindered him from ever going out to fish, or play at baseball, or any of the other sports the village boys loved. His quiet, thoughtful ways had earned his father's trust, though he wasmuch slower of speech and less ready than his elder brother, and lookedheavy both in countenance and figure beside Jeph, who was tall, slim, and full of activity and animation. He had often made his mother uneasyby wild talk about going to sea, and by consorting with the sailors atBristol, which was their nearest town, though on the other side of theAvon, and in a different county. It was there that the Elmwood people did their marketing, often leavingtheir donkeys hobbled on their own side of the river, being ferried overand carrying the goods themselves the latter part of the way. CHAPTER III. KIRK RAPINE. "When impious men held sway and wasted Church and shrine. " LORD SELBORNE. Patience, in her tight little white cap, sat spinning by the door, rocking the cradle with her foot, while Rusha sometimes built what shecalled houses with stones, sometimes trotted to look down the lane tosee whether father and the lads were coming home from market. Presently she brought word, "Stead is coming. He is leading Whitefoot, but I don't see father and Jeph. " Patience jumped up to put her wheel out of the way, and soon she sawthat it was only Steadfast leading the old mare with the large crooks orpanniers on either side. She ran to meet him, and saw he looked ratherpale and dazed. "What is it, Stead? Where's daddy?" "Gone up to Elmwood! They told us in town that some of the soldiers andthe folk of that sort were gone out to rabble cur church and our parson, and father is Churchwarden, you know. So he said he must go to see whatwas doing. And he bade me take Whitefoot home and give you the money, "said Steadfast, producing a bag which Patience took to keep for herfather. She watched very anxiously, and so did Stead, while relieving Whitefootof her panniers and giving her a rub down before turning her out to gether supper. It was not long however before Kenton and Jeph both appeared, the onelooking sad, the other sulky. "Too late, " Jeph muttered, "and fatherwon't let me go to see the sport. " "Sport, d'ye call it?" said Kenton. "Aye, Stead, you may well gape atwhat we have seen--our good parson with his feet tied to his stirrups ona sorry nag, being hauled off to town like a common thief!" "Oh!" broke from the children, and Patience ventured to ask, "But whatfor, father?" "They best know who did it, " said the Churchwarden. "Something they saidof a scandalous minister, as though his had not ever been a godly lifeand preaching. These be strange times, children, and for the life of me, I know not what it all means. How now, Jeph, what art idling therefor? There's the waggon to be loaded for to-morrow with the faggots Ipromised Mistress Lightfoot. " Jeph moved away, murmuring something about fetching up the cows, towhich his father replied, "That was Steadfast's work, and it was nottime yet. " In fact Jeph was very curious to know what was going on in the village. If there was any kind of uproar, why should not he have his part init? It was just like father to hinder him, and he had a great mind toneglect the faggots and go off to the village. He was rather surprised, and a good deal vexed to see his father walking along on the way to thepasture with Steadfast. It was for the sake of saying "Aye, boy, best not go near the sorrysight! They would not let good Master Holworth speak with me; but Isaw he meant to warn me to keep aloof lest Tim Green or the like shouldremember as how I'm Churchwarden. " "Did they ask after those things?" inquired Steadfast in a loweredvoice. "I can't say. But on your life, lad, not a word of them!" After work was done for the evening, Jeph and Stead were too eagerto know what had happened to stay at home. They ran across the bit ofmoorland to the village street and the grey church, whose odd-shapedsteeple stood up among the trees. Already they could see that the greatwest window was broken, all the glass which bore the picture of the LastJudgment, and the Archangel Michael weighing souls in the balance wasgone! "Yes, " said Tom Oates, leaping over two or three tombstones to get tothem. "'Twas rare sport, Jeph Kenton. Why were you not there too?" "At Bristol with father, " replied Jeph. "Worse luck for you. The red coat shot the big angel right in the eye, and shivered him through, and we did the rest with stones. I sent onethat knocked the wing of him right off. You should have seen me, Stead!And old Clerk North was running about crying all the time like a baby. He'll never whack us over the head again!" "What was the good?" said Steadfast. "You never saw better sport, " said the boys. And indeed, since, when once begun, destruction and mischief are apt tobe only too delightful to boys, they had thoroughly and thoughtlesslydelighted in knocking down the things they had been taught to respect. Afigure of a knight in a ruff kneeling on a tomb had had its headknocked off, and one of the lads heaved the bits up to throw at the lastfragment of glass in the window. "What do you do that for?" asked Stead. "'Tis worshipping of idols, " said a somewhat graver lad. "'Break downtheir idols, ' the man in the black gown said, 'and burn their gravenimages in the fire. '" "But we never worshipped them, " said Stead. "Pious preacher said so, " returned the youth, "and mighty angered washe with the rails. " (Jeph and Will were sparring with two fragments ofthem. ) "'Down with them, ' he cried out, so as it would have done yourheart good to hear him. " "And the parson is gone! There will be no hearing the catechism onSundays!" cried Ralph Wilkes, making a leap over the broken font. "Good luck for you, Ralph, " cried the others. "You, that never couldtell how many commandments there be. " "Put on your hat, Stead, " called out another lad. "We've done with allthat now, and the parson is gone to prison for it. " "No, no, " shouted Tom Oates, "'twas for making away with the Communionthings. " "I heard the red coat say they had a warrant against scandalousministers, " declared Ralph Wilkes. "I heard the man with the pen and ink-horn ask for the popish vessels, as he called them, and not a word would the parson say, " said Oates. "I'd take my oath he has hid them somewheres, " replied Jack Beard, anill-looking lad. "What a windfall they would be for him as found them!" observed Wilkes. "I'd like to look over the parsonage house, " said Jeph. "No use. Old dame housekeeper has locked herself in, as savage as a bearwith a sore head. " "Besides, they did turn over all the parson's things and made a bonfireof all his popish books. The little ones be dancing their rounds aboutit still!" Stead had heard quite enough to make him very uneasy, and wish to gethome with his tidings to his father. There was a girl standing by with ababy in her arms, and she asked: "What will they do to our minister?" "Put him in Little Ease for a scandalous minister, " was the readyanswer. "But he _is_ a good man. He gave us all broth when father hadthe fever!" "And who will give granny and me our Sunday dinner?" said a little boy. "But there'll be no more catechising. Hurrah!" cried Oates, "hurrah!" "'Tis rank superstition, said the red coat, Hurrah!" and up went theircaps. "Halloa, Stead Kenton, not a word to say?" "He likes being catechised, standing as he does like a stuck pig, andanswering never a word, " cried Jack. "I do, " said Steadfast, "and why not?" "Parson's darling! Parson's darling!" shouted the boys. "A malignant!Off with him. " They had begun to hustle him, when Jeph threw himselfbetween and cried: "Hit Steadfast, and you must hit me first. " "A match, a match!" they cried, "Jeph and Jack. " Stead had no fears about Jeph conquering, but while the others stoodround to watch the boxing, he slipped away, with his heart perplexed andsad. He had loved his minister, and he never guessed how much he caredfor his church till he saw it lying desolate, and these rude ladsrejoicing in the havoc; while the words rang in his ears, "And now theybreak down all the carved work thereof with axes and with hammers. " CHAPTER IV. THE GOOD CAUSE. "And their Psalter mourneth with them O'er the carvings and the grace, Which axe and hammer ruin In the fair and holy place. " Bp. CLEVELAND COXE. When next John Kenton went into Bristol to market he tried to discoverwhat had become of Mr. Holworth, but could only make out something abouthis being sent up to London with others of his sort to answer for beingBaal worshippers! Which, as he observed, he could not understand. There seemed likely to be no service at the church on Sunday, but Johnthought himself bound to walk thither with his sons to see what wasgoing on, and they heard such a noise that they looked at each otherin amazement. It was not preaching, but shouting, laughing, screaming, stamping, and running. The rude village children were playing athide-and-seek, and Jenny Oates was hidden in the pulpit. But at MasterKenton's loud "How now, youngsters" they all were frightened, some ranout headlong, some sneaked out at the little north door, and theplace was quiet, but in sad confusion and desolation, the altar-tableoverthrown, the glass of the windows lying in fragments on the pavement, the benches kicked over. Kenton, with his boys' help, put what he could straight again, andthen somewhat to their surprise knelt down with bowed head, and saida prayer, for they saw his lips moving. Then he locked up the churchdoors, for the keys had been left in them, and slowly and sadly wentaway. "Thy mother would be sad to see this work, " he said to Steadfast, ashe stopped by her grave. "They say 'tis done for religion's sake, but Iknow not what to make of it. " The old Parish Clerk, North, had had a stroke the night after theplunder of the church, and lay a-dying and insensible. His wife gavehis keys to Master Kenton, and on the following Sunday there was ahue-and-cry for them, and Oates the father, the cobbler, a meddlingfellow, came down with a whole rabble of boys after him to the farm todemand them. "A preacher had come out from Bristol, " he said, "a captainin the army, and he was calling for the keys to get into the church andgive them a godly discourse. It would be the worse for Master Kenton ifhe did not give them up. " John had just sat down in the porch in his clean Sunday smock with thebaby on his knee, and Rusha clinging about him waiting till Stead hadcleaned himself up, and was ready to read to them from the mother'sbooks. When he understood Gates' message he slowly said, "I be in charge of thekeys for this here parish. " "Come, come, Master Kenton, this wont do, give 'un up or you'll be madeto. Times are changed, and we don't want no parsons nor churchwardensnow, nor no such popery!" "I'm accountable to the vestry for the church, " gravely said Kenton. "I will come and see what is doing, and open the church if so be as theparish require it. " "Don't you see! The parish does--" "I don't call you the parish, Master Gates, nor them boys neither, " saidKenton, getting up however, and placing the little one in the cradle, ashe called out to Patience to keep back the dinner till his return. Thetwo boys and Rusha followed him to see what would happen. Long before they reached the churchyard they heard the sound of apowerful voice, and presently they could see all the men and women ofthe parish as it seemed, gathered about the lych gate, where, on thelarge stone on which coffins were wont to be rested, stood a tall thinman, in a heavy broad-brimmed hat, large bands, crimson scarf, and buffcoat, who was in fiery and eager words calling on all those around toawaken from the sleep of sloth and sin, break their bonds and fight forfreedom and truth. He waved his long sword as he spoke and dared thearmies of Satan to come on, and it was hard to tell which he reallymeant, the forces of sin, or the armies of men whom he believed to befighting on the wrong side. Someone told him that the keys of the church were brought, but he heedednot the interruption, except to thunder forth "What care I for yoursteeple house! The Church of God is in the souls of the faithful. Isit not written 'The kingdom of heaven is within you?' What, can ye notworship save between four walls?" And then he went on with the utmostfervour and vehemence, calling on all around to set themselves free fromthe chains that held them and to strive even to the death. He meant all he said. He really believed he was teaching the only way ofrighteousness, and so his words had a force that went home to people'shearts as earnestness always does, and Jephthah, with tears in his eyes, began begging and praying his father to let him go and fight for thegood Cause. "Aye, aye, " said Kenton, "against the world, the flesh, and the devil, and welcome, my son. " "Then I'll go and enlist under Captain Venn, " cried Jeph. "Not so fast, my lad. What I gave you leave for was to fight with thedevil. " "You said the good Cause!" "And can you tell me which be the good Cause?" "Why, this here, of course. Did not you hear the Captain's good words, and see his long sword, and didn't they give five marks for Croppie'sbull calf?" "Fine words butter no parsnips, " slowly responded Kenton. "But, " put in Steadfast, "butter is risen twopence the pound. " "Very like, " said Kenton, "but how can that be the good Cause thatstrips the Churches and claps godly ministers into jail?" Jephthah thought he had an answer, but fathers in those times did notpermit themselves to be argued with. Prices began going up still higher, for the Cavaliers were reportedto be on their way to besiege Bristol, and the garrison wanted all theprovisions they could lay in, and paid well for them. When Kentonand his boys went down to market, they found the old walls beingstrengthened with earth and stones, and sentries watching at the gates, but as they brought in provisions, and were by this time well known, nodifficulty was made about admitting them. One day, however, as they were returning, they saw a cloud of dust inthe distance, and heard the sounds of drums and fifes playing a joyoustune. Kenton drew the old mare behind the bank of a high hedge, and theboys watched eagerly through the hawthorns. Presently they saw the Royal Standard of England, though indeed that didnot prove much, for both sides used it alike, but there were many lesserbanners and pennons of lords and knights, waving on the breeze, and asthe Kentons peeped down into the lane below they saw plumed hats, and shining corslets, and silken scarves, and handsome horses, whosejingling accoutrements chimed in with the tramp of their hoofs, and thenotes of the music in front, while cheerful voices and laughter could beheard all around. "Oh, father! these be gallant fellows, " exclaimed Jephthah. "Will youlet me go with these?" Kenton laughed a little to himself. "Which is the good Cause, eh, sonJeph?" He was, however, not at all easy about the state of things. "There islike to be fighting, " he said to Steadfast, as they were busy togethergetting hay into the stable, "and that makes trouble even for quietfolks that only want to be let alone. Now, look you here, " and hepulled out a canvas bag from the corner of the bin. "This has got prettytolerably weighty of late, and I doubt me if this be the safest placefor it. " Stead opened his eyes. The family all knew that the stable was used asthe deposit for money, though none of the young folks had been allowedto know exactly where it was kept. There were no banks in those days, and careful people had no choice but either to hoard and hide, or tolend their money to someone in business. The farmer poured out a heap of the money, all silver and copper, but hedid not dare to wait to count it lest he should be interrupted. He tiedup one handful, chiefly of pence, in the same bag, and put the rest intoa bit of old sacking, saying, "You can get to the brook side, to theplace you wot of, better than I can, Stead. Take you this with you andput it along with the other things, and then you will have somethingto fall back on in case of need. We'll put the rest back where it wasbefore, for it may come handy. " So Steadfast, much gratified, as well he might be, at the confidencebestowed on him by his father, took the bag with him under his smockwhen he went out with the cows, and bestowed it in a cranny not far fromthat in which that more precious trust resided. CHAPTER V. DESOLATION. "They shot him dead at the Nine Stonerig, Beside the headless Cross; And they left him lying in his blood, Upon the moor and moss. " SURTEES. More and more soldiers might be seen coming down the roads towards thetown, not by any means always looking as gay as that first troop. Some of the feathers were as draggled as the old cock's tail aftera thunderstorm, some reduced even to the quill, the coats lookedthreadbare, the scarves stained and frayed, the horses lean and bony. There was no getting into the town now, and the growling thunder of acannon might now and then be heard. Jeph would have liked to spend allhis time on the hill-side where he could see the tents round the town, and watch bodies of troops come out, looking as small as toy soldiers, and see the clouds of smoke, sometimes the flashes, a moment or twobefore the report. He longed to go down and see the camp, taking a load of butter andeggs, but the neighbours told his father that these troops were badpaymasters, and that there were idle fellows lurking about who mighttake his wares without so much as asking the price. However, Jeph grew suddenly eager to herd the cattle, because thus hehad the best chance of watching the long lines of soldiers drawn outfrom the camp, and seeing the smoke of the guns, whose sound made poorPatience stay and tremble at home, and hardly like to have her fatherout of her sight. There was worse coming. Jeph had been warned to keep his cattle well outof sight from any of the roads, but when he could see the troops movingabout he could not recollect anything else, and one afternoon Croppiestrayed into the lane where the grass grew thick and rank, and theothers followed her. Jeph had turned her back and was close to thefarmstead when he heard shouts and the clattering of trappings. Half-a-dozen lean, hungry-looking troopers were clanking down the lane, and one called out, "Ha! good luck! Just what we want! Beef and forage. Turn about, young bumpkin, I say. Drive your cattle into camp. For theKing's service. " "They are father's, " sturdily replied Jeph, and called aloud for"Father. " He was answered with a rude shout of derision, and poor Croppie waspricked with the sword's point to turn her away. Jeph was wild withpassion, and struck back the sword with his stick so unexpectedly thatit flew out of the trooper's hand. Of course, more than one stout maninstantly seized the boy, amid howls of rage; and one heavy blow hadfallen on him, when Kenton dashed forward, thrusting himself between hisson, and the uplifted arm, and had begun to speak, when, with the words"You will, you rebel dog?" a pistol shot was fired. Jeph saw his father fall, but felt the grasp upon himself relax, andheard a voice shouting, "How now, my men, what's this?" "He resisted the King's requisition, your Grace, " said one of thetroopers, as a handsome lad galloped up. "King's requisition! Your own robbery. What have you done to the poorman, you Schelm? See here, Rupert, " he added, as another young man rodehastily up. "Rascals! How often am I to tell you that this is not to be made a placefor your plunder and slaughter, " thundered the new comer, rising in hisstirrups, and striking at the troopers with the flat of his sword, sothat they fell back with growls about "soldiers must live, " and "curs ofpeasants. " The younger brother had leapt from his horse, and was trying to helpJephthah raise poor Kenton's head, but it fell back helplessly, deafto the screams of "Father, father, " with which Patience and Rusha haddarted out, as a cloud of smoke began to rise from the straw yard. Poorchildren, they screamed again at what was before them. Rusha ran wildlyaway at sight of the soldiers, but Patience, with the baby in her arms, came up. She did not see her father at first, and only cried aloud tothe gentlemen. "O sir, don't let them do it. If they take our cows, the babe will die. He has no mother!" "They shall not, the villains! Brother, can nothing be done?" criedthe youth, with a face of grief and horror. And then there was a greatconfusion. The two young officers were vehemently angry at sight of the fire, andshouted fierce orders to the guard of soldiers who had accompanied themto endeavour to extinguish it, themselves doing their best, and makingthe men release Steadfast, whom they had seized upon as he was trying totrample out the flame, kindled by a match from one of the soldierswho had scattered themselves about the yard during the struggle withJephthah. But either the fire was too strong, or the men did not exert themselves;it was soon plain that the house could not be saved, and the elderremounted, saying in German, "'Tis of no use, Maurice, we must notlinger here. " "And can nothing be done?" again asked Prince Maurice. "This is as badas in Germany itself. " "You are new to the trade, Maurice. You will see many such sights, I fear, ere we have done; though I hoped the English nature was morekindly. " Then using the word of command, sending his aides-de-camp, and with muchshouting and calling, Prince Rupert got the troop together again, verysulky at being baulked of their plunder. They were all made to go out ofthe farm yard, and ride away before him, and then the two princes haltedwhere the poor children, scarce knowing that their home was burningbehind them, were gathered round their father, Patience stroking hisface, Steadfast chafing his hands, Jephthah standing with folded arms, and a terrible look of grief and wrath on his face. "Is there no hope?" asked Prince Maurice, sorrowfully. "He is dead. That's all, " muttered Jeph between his clenched teeth. "Mark, " said Prince Rupert, "this mischance is by no command of theKing or mine. The fellow shall be brought to justice if you can swear tohim. " "I would have hindered it, if I could, " said the other prince, in muchslower, and more imperfect English. "It grieves me much. My purse haslittle, but here it is. " He dropped it on the ground while setting spurs to his horse to followhis brother. And thus the poor children were left at first in a sort of numb dismayafter the shock, not even feeling that a heavy shower had begun to fall, till the baby, whom Patience had laid on the grass, set up a shriek. Then she snatched him up, and burst into a bitter cry herself--wailing"father was dead, and he would die, " in broken words. Steadfast thenlaid a hand on her, and said "He won't die, Patience, I see Croppiethere, I'll get some milk. Take him. " There were only smoking walls, but the fire was burning down under therain, and had not touched the stable, the wind being the other way. "Take him there, " the boy said. "But father--we can't leave him. " Without more words Jephthah and Steadfast took the still form betweenthem and bore it into the stable, the baby screaming with hunger all thetime, so that Jephthah hotly said-- "Stop that! I can't bear it. " Steadfast then said he would milk the cow if Jeph would run to the nextcottage and get help. People would come when they knew the soldiers weregone. There was nothing but Steadfast's leathern cap to hold the milk, andhe felt as if his fingers had no strength to draw it; but when he hadbrought his sister enough to quiet little Ben, she recollected Rusha, and besought him to find her. She could hardly sit still and feed thelittle one while she heard his voice shouting in vain for the child, and all the time she was starting with the fancy that she saw her fathermove, or heard a rustling in the straw where her brothers had laid him. And when little Ben was satisfied, she was almost rent asunder betweenher unwillingness to leave unwatched all that was left of her father, still with that vain hopeless hope that he might revive, all could nothave been over in such a moment, and her terrible anxiety about herlittle sister. Could she have run back into the burning house? Or couldthose dreadful soldiers have killed her too? Steadfast presently came back, having found some of the startled cattleand driven them in, but no Rusha. Patience was sure she could find her, and giving the baby to Steadfast ran out in the rain and smoulderingsmoke calling her; all in vain. Then she heard voices and feet, and in afresh fright was about to turn again, when she knew Jephthah's call. Hehad the child in his arms. He had been coming back from the village withsome neighbours, when they saw the poor little thing, crouched like ahare in her form under a bush. No sooner did she hear them, than like ahare, she started up to run away; but stumbling over the root of a tree, she fell and lay, too much frightened even to scream till her brotherpicked her up. Kind motherly arms were about the poor girls. Old Goody Grace, who hadbeen with them through their mother's illness, had hobbled up on hearingthe terrible news. She looked like a witch, with a tall hat, shortcloak, and nose and chin nearly meeting, but all Elmwood loved andtrusted her, and the feeling of utter terror and helplessness almostvanished when she kissed and grieved over the orphans, and took thedirection of things. She straightened and composed poor John Kenton'slimbs, and gave what comfort she could by assuring the children that thepassage must have been well nigh without pain. "And if ever there wasa good man fit to be taken suddenly, it was he, " she added. "He be ina happier place than this has been to him since your good mother wastook. " Several of the men had accompanied her, and after some consultation, itwas decided that the burial had better take place that very night, eventhough there was no time to make a coffin. "Many an honest man will be in that same case, " said Harry Blane, thesmith, "if they come to blows down there. " "And He to Whom he is gone will not ask whether he lies in a coffin, orhas the prayers said over him, " added Goody, "though 'tis pity on himtoo, for he always was a man for churches and parsons and prayers. " "Vain husks, said the pious captain, " put in Oates. "Well, " said Harry Blane, "those could hardly be vain husks that madeJohn Kenton what he was. Would that the good old times were back again;when a sackless man could not be shot down at his own door for nothingat all. " Reverently and carefully John Kenton's body was borne to the churchyard, where he was laid in the grave beside his much loved wife. No knell wasrung: Elmwood, lying far away over the hill side in the narrow woodedvalley with the river between it and the camp, had not yet been visitedby any of the Royalist army, but a midnight toll might have attractedthe attention of some of the lawless stragglers. Nor did anyone feelcapable of uttering a prayer aloud, and thus the only sound at thatstrange sad funeral was the low boom of a midnight gun fired in thebeleaguered city. Then Patience with Rusha and the baby were taken home by kind old GoodyGrace, while the smith called the two lads into his house. CHAPTER VI. LEFT TO THEMSELVES. "One look he cast upon the bier, Dashed from his eye the gathering tear, Then, like the high bred colt when freed First he essays his fire and speed, He vanished---" SCOTT. Steadfast was worn and wearied out with grief and slept heavily, knowingat first that his brother was tossing about a good deal, but soon losingall perception, and not waking till on that summer morning the sun hadmade some progress in the sky. Then he came to the sad recollection of the last dreadful day, and knewthat he was lying on Master Blane's kitchen floor. He picked himself up, and at the same moment heard Jephthah calling him from the outside. "Stead, " he said, "I am going!" "Going!" said poor Stead, half asleep. "Yes. I shall never rest till I have had a shot at those barbarousGerman princes and the rest of the villains. My father's blood cries tome from the ground for vengeance. " "Would father have said like that?" said the boy, bewildered, butconscious of something defective, though these were Bible words. "That's not the point! Captain Venn called every man to take the swordand hew down the wicked, and slay the ungodly and the murderers. Iwill!" cried Jeph, "none shall withhold me. " He had caught more phrases from these fiery preachers than he himselfknew, and they broke forth in this time of excitement. "But, Jeph, what is to become of us? The girls, and the little one! Youare the only one of us who can do a man's work. " "I could not keep you together!" said Jeph. "Our house burnt by thoseaccursed sons of Belial, all broken up, and only a lubber like you tohelp! No, Goody Grace or some one will take in the girls for what's leftof the stock, and you can soon find a place--a strong fellow like you;Master Blane might take you and make a smith of you, if you be not tooslow and clumsy. " "But Jeph--" "Withhold me not. Is it not written--" "I wish you would not say is it not written, " broke in Stead, "I know itis, but you don't say it right. " "Because you are yet in darkness, " said Jeph, contemptuously. "Hold yourtongue. I must be off at once. Market folk can get into the town by thelow lane out there, away from the camp of the spoilers, early in themorning, and I must hasten to enlist under Captain Venn. No, don't callthe wenches, they would but strive to daunt my spirit in the holy workof vengeance on the bloodthirsty, and I can't abide tears and whining. See here, I found this in the corn bin. I'm poor father's heir. Youwon't want money, and I shall; so I shall take it, but I'll come backand make all your fortunes when I am a captain or a colonel. I wonderthis is not more. We got a heap of late. Maybe father hid it somewhereelse, but 'tis no use seeking now. If you light upon it you are welcometo do what you will with it. Fare thee well, Steadfast. Do the best youcan for the wenches, but a call is laid on me! I have vowed to avengethe blood that was shed. " He strode off into the steep woodland path that clothed the hill side, and Steadfast looked after him, and felt more utterly deserted thanbefore. Then he looked up to the sky, and tried to remember what wasthe promise to the fatherless children. That made him wonder whetherthe Bible and Prayer-book had been burnt, and then his morning's duty ofproviding milk for the little ones' breakfast pressed upon him. He tookup a pail of Mrs. Blane's which he thought he might borrow and went offin search of the cows. So, murmuring the Lord's Prayer as he walked, and making the resolution not to be dragged away from his trust in thecavern, nor to forsake his little sister--he heard the lowing of thecows as he went over the hill, and found them standing at the gate ofthe fold yard, waiting to be eased of their milk. Poor creatures, theyseemed so glad to welcome him that it was the first thing that broughttears to his eyes, and they came with such a rush that he had much adoto keep them from dropping into the pail as he leant his head againstCroppie's ruddy side. There was a little smouldering smoke; but the rain had checked the fire, and though the roof of the house was gone and it looked frightfullydreary and wretched, the walls were still standing and the pigs weregrunting about the place. However, Steadfast did not stop to see whatwas left within, as he knew Ben would be crying for food, but he carriedhis foaming pail back to Goody Grace's as fast as he could, afterturning out the cows on the common, not even stopping to count the sheepthat were straggling about. His sisters were watching anxiously from the door of Goody Grace'shovel, and eagerly cried out "Where's Jeph?" Then he had to tell them that Jeph was gone for a soldier, to have hisrevenge for his father's death. "Jeph gone too!" said poor Patience, looking pale. "Oh, what shall weever do?" "He did not think of that, I'll warrant, the selfish fellow, " said GoodyGrace. "That's the way with lads, nought but themselves. " "It was because of what they did to poor father, " replied Stead. "And if he, or the folks he is gone to, call that the Christianreligion, 'tis more than I do!" rejoined the old woman. "I wish I hadmet him, I'd have given him a bit of my mind about going off to hisrevenge, as he calls it, without ever a thought what was to become ofhis own flesh and blood here. " "He did say I might go to service (not that I shall), and that some onewould take you in for the cattle's sake. " "O don't do that, Stead, " cried Patience, "don't let us part!" He hadonly just time to answer, "No such thing, " for people were coming aboutthem by this time, one after another emerging from the cottages thatstood around the village green. The women were all hotly angry with Jephfor going off and leaving his young brothers and sisters to shift forthemselves. "He was ever an idle fellow, " said one, "always running after thesoldiers and only wanting an excuse. " "Best thing he could do for himself or them, " growled old Green. "Eh! What, Gaffer Green! To go off without a word or saying by yourleave to his poor little sister before his good father be cold in hisgrave, " exclaimed a whole clamour of voices. "Belike he knew what a clack of women's tongues there would be, andwould fain be out of it, " replied the old man shrewdly. It was a clamour that oppressed poor Patience and made her feel sickwith sorrow and noise. Everybody meant to be very kind and pitiful, butthere was a great deal too much of it, and they felt quite bewilderedby the offers made them. Farmer Mill's wife, of Elmwood Cross, two milesoff, was reported by her sister to want a stout girl to help her, butthere was no chance of her taking Rusha or the baby as well as Patience. Goody Grace could not undertake the care of Ben unless she could havePatience, because she was so often called away from home, nor could shesupport them without the cows. Smith Blane might have taken Stead, buthis wife would not hear of being troubled with Rusha. And Dame Oatesmight endure Rusha for the sake of a useful girl like Patience, butcertainly not the baby. It was an utter Babel and confusion, and in themidst of it all, Patience crept up to her brother who stood all thetime like a stock, and said "Oh! Stead, I cannot give up Ben to anyone. Cannot we all keep together?" "Hush, Patty! That's what I mean to do, if you will stand by me, " hewhispered, "wait till all the clack is over. " And there he waited with Patience by his side while the parish seemedto be endlessly striving over them. If one woman seemed about to make aproposal, half-a-dozen more fell on her and vowed that the poor orphanswould be starved and overworked; till she turned on the foremost with"And hadn't your poor prentice lad to go before the justices to shew theweals on his back?" "Aye, Joan Stubbs, and what are you speaking upfor but to get the poor children's sheep? Hey, you now, SteadKenton--Lack-a-day, where be they?" For while the dispute was at its loudest and hottest, Stead had takenRusha by the hand, made a sign to Patience, and the four desertedchildren had quietly gone away together into the copsewood that ledto the little glen where the brook ran, and where was the cave thatSteadfast looked on as his special charge. Rusha, frightened by the loudvoices and angry gestures, had begun to cry, and beg she might not begiven to anyone, but stay with her Patty and Stead. "And so you shall, my pretty, " said Steadfast, sitting down on the stumpof a tree, and taking her on his knee, while Toby nuzzled up to them. "Then you think we can go on keeping ourselves, and not letting thempart us, " said Patience, earnestly. "If I have done the house work allthis time, and we have the fields, and all the beasts. We have only lostthe house, and I could never bear to live there again, " she added, witha shudder. "No, " said Steadfast, "it is too near the road while these savagefellows are about. Besides--" and there he checked himself and added, "I'll tell you, Patty. Do you remember the old stone cot down there inthe wood?" "Where the old hermit lived in the blind Popish times?" "Aye. We'll live there. No soldiers will ever find us out there, Patty. " "Oh! oh! that is good, " said Patience. "We shall like that, shan't we, Rusha?" "And, " added Steadfast, "there is an old cowshed against the rockdown there, where we could harbour the beasts, for 'tis them that thesoldiers are most after. " "Let us go down to it at once, " cried the girl, joyfully. But Steadfast thought it would be wiser to go first to the ruins oftheir home; before, as he said, anyone else did so, to see what could besaved therefrom. Patience shrank from the spectacle, and Rusha hung upon her, saying thesoldiers would be there, and beginning to cry. At that moment, however, Tom Gates' voice came near shouting for "Stead! Stead Kenton!" "Come on, Stead. You'll be prentice-lad to Dick Stiggins the tailor, ifso be you bring Whitefoot and the geese for your fee; and Goodman Boldwill have the big wench; and Goody Grace will make shift with the littleones, provided she has the kine!" "We don't mean to be beholden to none of them, " said Steadfast, sturdily, with his hands in his pockets. "We mean to keep what belongsto us, and work for ourselves. " "And God will help us, " Patience added softly. "Ho, ho!" cried Tom, and proud of having found them, he ran before themback to the village green, and roared out, "Here they be! And they sayas how they don't want none of you, but will keep themselves. Ha! ha!" Anyone who saw those four young orphans would not have thought theirtrying to keep themselves a laughing matter; and the village folk, whohad been just before so unwilling to undertake them, now began scoldingand blaming them for their folly and ingratitude. Nothing indeed makes people so angry as when a kindness which has costthem a great effort turns out not to be wanted. "Look for nothing from us, " cried Dame Bold. "I'd have made a goodhousewife of you, you ungrateful hussy, and now you may thank yourself, if you come to begging, I shall have nothing for you. " "Beggary and rags, " repeated the tailor. "Aye, aye; 'tis all very finestrolling about after the sheep with your hands in your pockets insummer weather, but you'll sing another song in winter time, and besorry you did not know when you had a good offer. " "The babe will die as sure as 'tis born, " added Jean Oates. "If they be not all slain by the mad Prince's troopers up in that placeby the roadside, " said another. Blacksmith Blane and Goody Grace were in the meantime asking thechildren what they meant to do, and Stead told them in a few words. Goody Grace shook her head over little Ben, but Blane declared thatafter all it might be the best thing they could do to keep their landand beasts together. Ten to one that foolish lad Jephthah would comeback with his tail between his legs, and though it would serve himright, what would they do if all were broken up? Then he slapped Steadon the back, called him a sensible, steady lad, and promised always tobe his friend. Moreover he gave up his morning's work to come with the children totheir homestead, and see what could be saved. It was a real kindness, not only because his protection made Patience much less afraid to gonear the place, and his strong arm would be a great help to them, butbecause he was parish constable and had authority to drive away therough lads whom they found already hanging about the ruins, and who hadfrightened Patience's poor cat up into the ash tree. The boys and two curs were dancing round the tree, and one boy wasstripping off his smock to climb up and throw poor pussy down among themwhen Master Blane's angry shout and flourished staff put them all toflight, and Patience and Rusha began to coax the cat to come down tothem. Hunting her had had one good effect, it had occupied the boys andprevented them from carrying anything off. The stable was safe. What hadbeen burnt was the hay rick, whence the flames had climbed to the house. The roof had fallen in, and the walls and chimney stood up blackened anddismal, but there was a good deal of stone about the house, the roof wasof shingle, and the heavy fall, together with the pouring rain, haddone much to choke the fire, so that when Blane began to throw aside thecharred bits of beams and of the upper floor, more proved to be unburnt, or at least only singed, than could have been expected. The great black iron pot still hung in the chimney with the very mealand kail broth that Patience had been boiling in it, and Rusha's littlestool stood by the hearth. Then the great chest, or ark as Patiencecalled it, where all the Sunday clothes were kept, had been crushedin and the upper things singed, but all below was safe. The beds andbedding were gone; but then the best bed had been only a box in the wallwith an open side, and the others only chaff or straw stuffed into asack. Patience's crocks, trenchers, and cups were gone too, all except onehorn mug; but two knives and some spoons were extracted from the ashes. Furniture was much more scanty everywhere than now. There was not muchto lose, and of that they had lost less than they had feared. "And see here, Stead, " said Patience joyfully holding up a lesser boxkept within the other. It contained her mother's Bible and Prayer-book. The covers were turnedup, a little warped by the heat, and some of the corners of the leaveswere browned, but otherwise they were unhurt. "I was in hopes 'twas the money box, " said Blane. "Jeph has got the bag, " said Patience. "More shame for him, " growled their friend. Steadfast did not think itnecessary to say that was not all the hoard. Another thing about which Patience was very anxious was the meal chest. With much difficulty they reached it. It had been broken in by the fallof the roof, and some of the contents were scattered, but enough wasgathered up in a pail fetched from the stable to last for some littletime. There were some eggs likewise in the nests, and altogether GoodmanBlane allowed that, if the young Kentons could take care of themselves, and keep things together, they had decided for the best; if they could, that was to say. And he helped them to carry their heavier things tothe glen. He wanted to see if it were fit for their habitation, butSteadfast was almost sorry to show anyone the way, in spite of his trustand gratitude to the blacksmith. However, of course, it was not possible to keep this strangehiding-place a secret, so he led the way by the path the cattle hadtrodden out through the brushwood to the open space where they drank, and where stood the hermit's hut, a dreary looking den built of bigstones, and with rough slates covering it. There was a kind of hole forthe doorway, and another for the smoke to get out at. Blane whistledwith dismay at the sight of it, and told Stead he could not take thechildren to such a place. "We will get it better, " said Stead. "That we will, " returned Patience, who felt anything better than beingseparated from her brother. "It is weather-tight, " added Stead, "and when it is cleaned out you willsee!" "And the soldiers will never find it, " added Patience. "There is something in that, " said Blane. "But at any rate, though it besummer, you can never sleep there to-night. " "The girls cannot, " said Stead, "but I shall, to look after things. " These were long days, and by the evening many of the remnants ofhousehold stuff had been brought, the cows and Whitefoot had beentied up in their dilapidated shed, with all the hay Stead could gathertogether to make them feel at home. There was a hollow under the rockwhere he hoped to keep the pigs, but neither they nor the sheep couldbe brought in at present. They must take their chance, the sheep on themoor, the pigs grubbing about the ruins of the farmyard. The soldiersmust be too busy for marauding, to judge by the constant firing that hadgone on all day, the sharp rattle of the musquets, and now and then thegrave roll of a cannon. Stead had been too busy to attend, but half the village had beenwatching from the height, which accounted perhaps for the move from thefarm having been so uninterrupted after the first. It was not yet dark, when, tired out by his day's hard work, Steadsat himself down at the opening of his hut with Toby by his side. Theevening gold of the sky could hardly be seen through the hazel andmountain-ash bushes that clothed the steep opposite bank of the glen andgave him a feeling of security. The brook rippled along below, plainlyto be heard since all other sounds had ceased except the purring of anight-jar and the cows chewing their cud. There was a little green gladeof short grass sloping down to the stream from the hut where the rabbitswere at play, but on each side the trees and brushwood were thick, withonly a small path through, much overgrown, and behind the rock rose likea wall, overhung with ivy and traveller's joy. Only one who knew theplace could have found the shed among the thicket where the cows werefastened, far less the cavern half-way up the side of the rock wherelay the treasures for which Steadfast was a watchman. He thought for amoment of seeing if all were safe, but then decided, like a wise boy, that to disturb the creepers, and wear a path to the place, was theworst thing he could do if he wished for concealment. He had had hissupper at the village, and had no more to do, and after the long dayof going to and fro, even Toby was too much tired to worry the rabbits, though he had had no heavy weights to carry. Perhaps, indeed, the poordog had no spirits to interfere with their sports, as they sat upright, jumped over one another, and flashed their little white tails. He missedhis old master, and knew perfectly well that his young master was introuble and distress, as he crept close up to the boy's breast, andlooked up in his face. Stead's hand patted the rough, wiry hair, andthere was a sort of comfort in the creature's love. But how hard it wasto believe that only yesterday he had a father and a home, and that nowhis elder brother was gone, and he had the great charge on him of beingthe mainstay of the three younger ones, as well as of protecting thattreasure in the cavern which his father had so solemnly entrusted tohim. The boy knelt down to say his prayers, and as he did so, all alone inthe darkening wood, the words "Father of the fatherless, Helper of thehelpless, " came to his aid. CHAPTER VII. THE HERMIT'S GULLEY. "O Bessie Bell and Mary Grey, They were twa bonnie lasses-- They digged a bower on yonder brae, And theek'd it o'er wi' rashes. " BALLAD. Steadfast slept soundly on the straw with Toby curled up by his sidetill the morning light was finding its way in through all the chinks ofhis rude little hovel. When he had gathered his recollections he knew how much there was to bedone. He sprang to his feet, showing himself still his good mother's ownboy by kneeling down to his short prayer, then taking off the clothes inwhich he had slept, and giving himself a good bath in the pool under thebush of wax-berried guelder rose, and as good a wash as he could withoutsoap. Then he milked the cows, for happily his own buckets had been at thestable and thus were safe. He had just released Croppie and seen herbegin her breakfast on the grass, when Patience in her little red hoodcame tripping through the glen with a broom over her shoulder, andwithout the other children. Goody Grace had undertaken to keep them forthe day, whilst Patience worked with her brother, and had further lenther the broom till she could make another, for all the country broomsof that time were home-made with the heather and the birch. She hadlikewise brought a barley cake, on which and on the milk the pair madetheir breakfast, Goody providing for the little ones. "We must use it up, " said Patience, "for we have got no churn. " "And we could not get into the town to sell the butter if we had, "returned her brother. "We had better take it up to some one in thevillage who might give us something for it, bread or cheese maybe. " "I would like to make my own butter, " sighed Patience, whose mother'scleanly habits had made her famous for it. "So you shall some day, Patty, " said her brother, "but there's nogetting into Bristol to buy one or to sell butter now. Hark! they arebeginning again, " as the growl of a heavy piece of cannon shook theground. "I wonder where our Jeph is, " said the little girl sadly. "How could helike to go among all those cruel fighting men? You won't go, Stead?" "No, indeed, I have got something else to do. " The children were hard at work all the time. They cleared out the insideof their hovel, which had a floor of what was called lime ash, troddenhard, and not much cracked. Probably other hermits in earlier timeshad made the place habitable before the expelled monk whom theKentons' great-grandfather recollected; for the cell, though rude, waswonderfully strong, and the stone walls were very stout and thick, afterthe fashion of the middle ages. There was a large flat stone to serve asa hearth, and an opening at the top for smoke with a couple of big slatystones bent towards one another over it as a break to the force of therain. The children might have been worse off though there was no window, and no door to close the opening. That mattered the less in the summerweather, and before winter came, Stead thought he could close it witha mat made of the bulrushes that stood up in the brook, lifting theirtall, black heads. Straw must serve for their beds till they could get some sacking tostuff it into, and as some of the sheep would have to be killed andsalted for the winter, the skins would serve for warmth. Patiencearranged the bundles of straw with a neat bit of plaiting round them, at one corner of the room for herself and Rusha, at the opposite one forStead. For the present they must sleep in their clothes. Life was always so rough, and, to present notions, comfortless, thatall this was not nearly so terrible to the farmer's daughter of twocenturies ago as it would be to a girl of the present day. Indeed, save for the grief for the good father, the sense of which now and thenrushed on them like a horrible, too true dream, Steadfast and Patiencewould almost have enjoyed the setting up for themselves and all theircontrivances. Some losses, however, besides that of the churn werevery great in their eyes. Patience's spinning wheel especially, and thetools, scythe, hook, and spade, all of which had been so much damaged, that Smith Blane had shaken his head over them as past mending. Perhaps, however, Stead might borrow and get these made for him. As tothe wheel, that must, like the churn, wait till the siege was over. "But will not those dreadful men burn the town down and not leave onestone on another, if Jeph and the rest of them don't keep them out?"asked Patience. "No, " said Stead. "That is not the way in these days--at least notalways. So poor father said last time we went into Bristol, when he hadbeen talking to the butter-merchant's man. He said the townsfolk wouldknow the reason why, if the soldiers were for holding out long enough toget them into trouble. " "Then perhaps there will not be much fighting and they will not hurtJeph, " said Patience, to whom Jeph was the whole war. "There's no firing to-day. Maybe they are making it up, " said Steadfast. "I never heeded, " said Patience, "we have been so busy! But Stead, howshall we get the things? We have no money. Shall we sell a sheep or apig?" Stead looked very knowing, and she exclaimed "Have you any, Stead? Ithought Jeph took it all away. " Then Stead told her how his father had entrusted him with the bulk ofthe savings, in case of need, and had made it over to the use of theyounger ones. "It was well you did not know, Patty, " he added. "You told no lie, andJeph might have taken it all. " "O! he would not have been so cruel, " cried Patience. "He would not wantRusha and Ben to have nothing. " Stead did not feel sure, and when Patience asked him where the hoardwas, he shook his head, looked wise, and would not tell her. And then hewarned her, with all his might and main against giving a hint to anyonethat they had any such fund in reserve. She was a little vexed and hurtat first, but presently she promised. "Indeed Stead, I won't say one word about it, and you don't think Iwould ever touch it without telling you. " "No, Patty, you wouldn't, but don't you see, if you know nothing, youcan't tell if people ask you. " In truth, Stead was less anxious about the money than about the othertreasure, and when presently Patience proposed that the cave where theyused to play should serve for the poultry, so as to save them from thefoxes and polecats, he looked very grave and said "No, no, Patty, don'tyou ever tell anyone of that hole, nor let Rusha see it. " "Oh! I know then!" cried Patience, with a little laugh, "I know what'sthere then. " "There's more than that, sister, " and therewith Stead told in her ear ofthe precious deposit. She looked very grave, and said "Why then it is just like church! O no, Stead, I'll never tell till good Mr. Holworth comes back. Could not wesay our prayers there on Sundays?" Stead liked the thought but shook his head. "We must not wear a path up to the place, " he said, "nor show the littleones the way. " "I shall say mine as near as I can, " said Patience. "And I shall ask Godto help us keep it safe. " Then the children became absorbed in seeking for a place where theirfowls could find safe shelter from the enemies that lurked in the wood, and ended by an attempt of Stead's to put up some perches across thebeam above the cow-shed. Things were forward enough for Rusha and Ben to be fetched down to theirnew home that night; when Patience went to fetch them, she heard thatthe cessation of firing had really been because the troops within thetown were going to surrender to the King's soldiers outside. "Then there will be no more fighting, " she anxiously asked of MasterBlane. "No man can tell, " he answered. "And will Jeph come back?" But that he could tell as little, and indeed someone else spoke to him, and he paid the child no more attention. Rusha had had a merry day among the children of her own age in thevillage; she fretted at coming away, and was frightened at turninginto so lonely a path through the hazel stems, trotting after Patiencebecause she was afraid to turn back alone, but making a low, peevishmoan all the time. [Illustration: Stead Stirring The Porridge. ] Patience hoped she would be comforted when they came out on their littleglade, and she saw Stead stirring the milk porridge over the fire he hadlighted by the house. For he had found the flint and steel belongingto the matchlock of his father's old gun, and there was plenty of dryleaves and half-burnt wood to serve as tinder. The fire for cookingwould be outside, whenever warmth and weather served, to prevent indoorsmoke. And to Patience's eyes it really looked pleasant and comfortable, with Toby sitting wisely by his young master's side, and the catcomfortably perched at the door, and Whitefoot tied to a tree, and thecows in their new abode. But Jerusha was tired and cross, she said itwas an ugly place, and she was afraid of the foxes and the polecats, shewanted to go home, she wanted to go back to Goody Grace. Stead grew angry, and threatened that she should have no supper, andthat made her cry the louder, and shake her frock at him; but Patience, who knew better how to deal with her, let her finish her cry, and comecreeping back, promising to be good, and glad to eat the supper, whichwas wholesome enough, though very smoky: however, the children were usedto smoke, and did not mind it. They said their prayers together while the sun was touching the tops ofthe trees, crept into their hut, curled themselves up upon their strawand went to sleep, while Toby lay watchful at the door, and the catprowled about in quest of a rabbit or some other evening wanderer forher supper. The next day Patience spent in trying to get things into somewhat betterorder, and Steadfast in trying to gather together his live stock, whichhe had been forced to leave to take care of themselves. Horse, donkey, and cows were all safe round their hut; but he could find only three ofthe young pigs and the old sow at the farmyard, and it plainly wasnot safe to leave them there, though how to pen them up in their newquarters he did not know. The sheep were out on the moor, and only one of them seemed to bemissing. The goat and the geese had likewise taken care of themselvesand seemed glad to see him. He drove them down to their new home, andfed them there with some of the injured meal. "But what can we do withthe pigs? There's no place they can't get out of but this, " said Stead, looking doubtfully. "Do you think I would have pigs in here? No, I am not come to that!" It ended in Stead's going to consult Master Blane, who advised that theyounger pigs should be either sold, or killed and salted, and nothingleft but the sow, who was a cunning old animal, and could pretty welltake care of herself, besides that she was so tough and lean that onemust be very hungry indeed to be greatly tempted by her bristles. But how sell the pigs or buy the salt in such days as these? There was, indeed, no firing. There was a belief that treaties were going on, but leisure only leftthe besiegers more free to go wandering about in search of plunder; andStead found all trouble saved him as to disposing of his pigs. They werequite gone next time he looked for them, and the poor old sow had beenlamed by a shot; but did not seem seriously hurt, and when with somedifficulty she had been persuaded to be driven into the glen, she seemedlikely to be willing to stay there in the corner of the cattle shed. The children were glad enough to be in their glen, with all its barenessand discomfort, when they heard that a troop of horse had visitedElmwood, and made a requisition there for hay and straw. They had usedno violence, but the farmers were compelled to take it into the campin their own waggons, getting nothing in payment but orders on thetreasury, which might as well be waste paper. And, indeed, they weretold by the soldiers that they might be thankful to get off with theircarts and horses. CHAPTER VIII. STEAD IN POSSESSION. "At night returning, every labour sped, He sits him down, the monarch of a shed. " GOLDSMITH. Another day made it certain that the garrison of Bristol had surrenderedto the besiegers. A few shots were heard, but they were only fired inrejoicing by the Royalists, and while Steadfast was studying his barleyfield, already silvered over by its long beards, and wondering how soonit would be ripe, and how he should get it cut and stacked, his namewas shouted out, and he saw Tom Oates and all the rest of the boysscampering down the lane. "Come along, Stead Kenton, come on and see, the Parliament soldiers comeout and go by. " Poor Steadfast had not much heart for watching soldiers, but it struckhim that he might see or hear something of Jephthah, so he came with theother boys to the bank, where from behind a hedge they could look downat the ranks of soldiers as they marched along, five abreast, the roadwas not wide enough to hold more. They had been allowed to keep theirweapons, so the officers had their swords, and the men carried theirmusquets. Most of them looked dull and dispirited, and the officers hadvery gloomy, displeased faces. In fact, they were very angry with theircommander, Colonel Fiennes, for having surrendered so easily, and he wasafterwards brought to a court-martial for having done so. Stead did not understand this, he thought only of looking under eachsteel cap or tall, slouching hat for Jephthah. Several times a youthful, slender figure raised his hopes, and disappointed him, and he began towonder whether Jeph could have after all stayed behind in the town, orif he could have been hurt and was ill there. By-and-by came a standard, bearing a Bible lying on a sword, and behindit rode a grave looking officer, with long hair, and a red scarf, whomthe lads recognised as the same who had preached at Elmwood. His menwere in better order than some of the others, and as Steadfast eagerlywatched them, he was sure that he knew the turn of Jeph's head, in spiteof his being in an entirely new suit of clothes, and with a musquet overhis shoulder. Stead shook the ash stem he was leaning against, the men looked up, hesaw the well-known face, and called out "Jeph! Jeph!" But some of theothers laughed, Jeph frowned and shook his head, and marched on. Steadwas disappointed, but at any rate he could carry back the assurance toPatience that Jeph was alive and well, though he seemed to have lost allcare for his brothers and sisters. Yet, perhaps, as a soldier he couldnot help it, and it might not be safe to straggle from the ranks. There was no more fighting for the present in the neighbourhood. Theprinces and their army departed, only leaving a garrison to keep thecity, and it was soon known in the village that the town was in itsusual state, and that it was safe to go in to market as in former times. Stead accordingly carried in a basket of eggs, which was all he couldyet sell. He was ferried across the river, and made his way in. It wasstrange to find the streets looking exactly as usual, and the citizens'wives coming out with their baskets just as if nothing had happened. There was the good-natured face of Mistress Lightfoot, who kept abaker's shop at the sign of the Wheatsheaf, and was their regularcustomer. "Ha, little Kenton, be'st thou there? I'm right glad to see thee. Theysaid the mad fellows had burnt the farm and made an end of all ofyou, but I find 'em civil enow, and I'm happy to see 'twas allleasing-making. " "It is true, mistress, " said Stead, "that they burnt our house and shotpoor father. " "Eh, you don't say so, my poor lad?" and she hurried her kind questions, tears coming into her eyes, as she thought of the orphans deserted bytheir brother. She was very anxious to have Patience butter-making againand promised to come with Stead to give her assistance in choosing botha churn and a spinning wheel if he would come in the next day, for hehad not ventured on bringing any money with him. She bought all his eggsfor her lodger, good Doctor Eales, who could hardly taste anything andhad been obliged to live cooped up in an inner chamber for fear of theParliament soldiers, who were misbehaved to Church ministers thoughcivil enough to women; while these new comers were just the other way, hat in hand to a clergyman, but apt to be saucy to the lasses. But shehoped the Doctor would cheer up again, now that the Cathedral was set inorder, so far as might be, and prayers were said there as in old times. In fact the bells were ringing for morning prayer, and Stead was so gladto hear them that he thought he might venture in and join in the briefdaily service. There were many others who had done so, for these anxiousdays had quickened the devotion of many hearts, and people had felt whatit was to be robbed of their churches and forbidden the use of theirprayer-books. Moreover, some had sons or brothers or husbands fightingon the one side or the other, and were glad to pray for them, so thatStead found himself in the midst of quite a congregation, though thechoir had been too much dispersed and broken up for the musical service, and indeed the organ had been torn to pieces by the Puritan soldiers, who fancied it was Popish. But Stead found himself caring for the Psalms and Prayers in a manner hehad never done before, and which came of the sorrow he had felt and thetroubles that pressed upon him. He fancied all would come right now, andthat soon Mr. Holworth would be back, and he should be able to give uphis charge; and he went home, quite cheered up. When he came into the gulley he heard voices through the bushes, andpressing forward anxiously he saw Blane and Oates before the hovel door, Patience standing there crying, with the baby in her arms, and Rushaholding her apron, and an elderly man whom Stead knew as old LadyElmwood's steward talking to the other men, who seemed to be persuadinghim to something. As soon as Stead appeared, the other children ran up to him, and Rushahid herself behind him, while Patience said "O Stead, Stead, he has cometo turn us all out! Don't let him!" "Nay, nay, little wench, not so fast, " said the steward, not unkindly. "I am but come to look after my Lady's interests, seeing that we heardyour poor father was dead, God have mercy on his soul (touching his hatreverently), and his son gone off to the wars, and nothing but a pack ofchildren left. " "But 'tis all poor father's, " muttered Stead, almost dumbfounded. "It is held under the manor of Elmwood, " explained the steward, "on thetenure of the delivery of the prime beast on the land on the demise oflord or tenant, and three days' service in hay and harvest time. " What this meant Steadfast and Patience knew as little as did Rusha orBen, but Goodman Blane explained. "The land here is all held under my Lady and Sir George, Stead--minejust the same--no rent paid, but if there's a death--landlord ortenant--one has to give the best beast as a fee, besides the work inharvest. " "And the question is, " proceeded the steward, "who and what is there tolook to. The eldest son is but a lad, if he were here, and this one is amere child, and the house is burnt down, and here they be, crouching ina hovel, and how is it to be with the land. I'm bound to look after theland. I'm bound to look after my Lady's interest and Sir George's. " "Be they ready to build up the place if you had another tenant?" askedBlane, signing to Stead to hold his peace. "Well--hum--ha! It might not come handy just now, seeing that Sir Georgeis off with the King, and all the money and plate with him and mostof the able-bodied servants, but I'm the more bound to look after hisinterests. " That seemed to be Master Brown's one sentence. But Blane took him up, "Look you here, Master Brown, I, that have been friend and gossip thismany years with poor John Kenton--rest his soul--can tell you that yourlady is like to be better served with this here Steadfast, boy though hebe, than if you had the other stripling with his head full of drums andmarches, guns and preachments, and what not, and who never had a goodday's work in him without his father's eye over him. This little fellowhas done half his share and his own to boot long ago. Now they arecontent to dwell down here, out of the way of the soldiering, and don'task her ladyship to be at any cost for repairing the farm up there, butwill do the best they can for themselves. So, I say, Master Brown, itwill be a real good work of charity, without hurt to my Lady and SirGeorge to let them be, poor things, to fight it out as they can. " "Well, well, there's somewhat in what you say Goodman Blane, but I'mbound to look after my Lady's interests and Sir George's. " "I would come and work like a good one at my Lady's hay and harvest, "said Stead, "and I shall get stronger and bigger every year. " "But the beast, " said the steward, "my Lady's interests must come first, you see. " "O don't let him take Croppie, " cried Patience. "O sir, not the cows, orbaby will die, and we can't make the butter. " "You see, Master Brown, " explained Blane, "it is butter as is theirchief stand-by. Poor Dame Kenton, as was took last spring, was the bestdairywoman in the parish, and this little maid takes after her. Theirkine are their main prop, but there's the mare, there's not much goodthat she can do them. " "Let us look!" said the steward. "A sorry jade enow! But I don'tknow but she will serve our turn better than the cow. There was arequisition, as they have the impudence to call it, from the Parliamentlot that took off all our horses, except old grey Dobbin and the colt, and this beast may come in handy to draw the wood. So I'll take her, andyou may think yourself well off, and thank my Lady I'm so easy with you. 'Be not hard on the orphans, ' she said. 'Heaven forbid, my Lady, ' saysI, 'but I must look after your interests. '" The children hung round old Whitefoot, making much of her for the lasttime, and Patience and Rusha both cried sadly when she was led away;and it was hard to believe Master Blane, who told them it was best forWhitefoot as well as for themselves, since they would find it a hardmatter to get food even for the more necessary animals in the winter, and the poor beast would soon be skin and bone; while for themselvesthe donkey could carry all they wanted to market; and it might be moreimportant than they understood to be thus regularly accepted as tenantsby the manor, so that no one could turn them out. And Stead, remembering the cavern, knew that he ought to be thankful, while the two men went away, Brown observing, "One can scarce turn 'emout, poor things, but such a mere lubber as that boy is can do no good!If the elder one had thought fit to stay and mind his own business now!" "A good riddance, I say, " returned Blane. "Stead's a good-hearted lad, though clownish, and I'll do what I can for him. " CHAPTER IX. WINTRY TIMES. "Thrice welcome may such seasons be, But welcome too the common way, The lowly duties of the day. " There was of course much to do. Steadfast visited his hoard and tookfrom thence enough to purchase churn, spinning wheel, and the few toolsthat he most needed; but it was not soon that Patience could sit down tospin. That must be for the winter, and their only chance of light was inmaking candles. Rusha could gather the green rushes, though she could not peel themwithout breaking them; and Patience had to take them out of her handsand herself strip the white pith so that only one ribbon of green wasleft to support it. The sheep, excepting a few old ewes, were always sold or killed beforethe winter, and by Blane's advice, Stead kept only three. The butcherOates took some of the others, and helped Stead to dispose of four morein the market. Two were killed at different intervals for home use, butonly a very small part was eaten fresh, as a wonderful Sunday treat, the rest was either disposed of among the neighbours, who took it inexchange for food of other kinds; or else was salted and dried for thewinter's fare, laid up in bran in two great crocks which Stead had beenforced to purchase, and which with planks from the half-burnt house laidover them served by turns as tables or seats. The fat was melted up inPatience's great kettle, and the rushes dipped in it over and over againtill they had such a coating of grease as would enable them to be burntin the old horn lantern which had fortunately been in the stable andescaped the fire. Kind neighbours helped Stead to cut and stack his hay, and his littlefield of barley. All the grass he could cut on the banks he also savedfor the animals' winter food, and a few turnips, but these were rare anduncommon articles only used by the most advanced farmers, and his fatherhad only lately begun to grow them, nor had potatoes become known exceptin the gardens of the curious. The vexation was that all the manor was called to give their three days'labour to Lady Elmwood's crops just as all their own were cut, and as, of course, Master Brown had chosen the finest weather, every one wentin fear and trembling for their own, and Oates and others grumbled sobitterly at having to work without wage, that Blane asked if they calledtheir own houses and land nothing. There was fresh grumbling too that the food sent out to the labourers inthe field was not as it used to be, good beef and mutton, but only breadand very hard cheese, and bowls of hasty pudding, with thin, sour smallbeer to wash it down. Oates growled and vowed he would never come againto be so scurvily used; and perhaps no one guessed that my lady was farmore impoverished than her tenants, and had a hard matter to supply evensuch fare as this. Happily the weather lasted good long enough to save the Kentons' littlecrop, though there was a sad remembrance of the old times, when thechurch bell gave the signal at sunrise for all the harvesters to come tochurch for the brief service, and then to start fair in their gleaning. The bell did still ring, but there were no prayers. The vicar had nevercome back, and it was reported that he had been sent to the plantationsin America. There was no service on Sunday nearer than Bristol. Itwas the churchwardens' business to find a minister, and of these, poorKenton was dead, and the other, Master Cliffe, was not likely to doanything that might put the parish to expense. Goodman Blane, and some of the other more seriously minded folk used towalk into Bristol to church when the weather was tolerably fine. If itwere wet, the little stream used to flood the lower valley so thatit was not possible to get across. Steadfast was generally one of theparty. Patience could not go, as it was too far for Rusha to walk, orfor the baby to be carried. Once, seeing how much she wished to go again to church, Stead undertookto mind the children, the cattle, and the dinner in her place; butwhat work he found it! When he tried to slice the onions for the broth, little Ben toddled off, and had to be caught lest he should tumble intothe river. Then Rusha got hold of the knife, cut her hand, and rolled itup in her Sunday frock, and Steadfast, thinking he had got a small bitof rag, tied it up in Patience's round cap, but that he did not knowtill afterwards, only that baby had got out again, and after some searchwas found asleep cuddled up close to the old sow. And so it went on, till poor Steadfast felt as if he had never spent so long a day. As toreading his Bible and Prayer-book, it was quite impossible, and he neverhad so much respect for Patience before as when he found what she didevery day without seeming to think anything of it. She did not get home till after dark, but the Blanes had taken her torest at the friends with whom they spent the time between services, andthey had given her a good meal. "Somehow, " said Patience, "everybody seems kinder than they used to bebefore the fighting began--and the parsons said the prayers as if theyhad more heart in them. " Patience was quite right. These times of danger were making everyonedraw nearer together, and look up more heartily to Him in Whom was theretrue help. But winter was coming on and bringing bad times for the poor childrenin their narrow valley, so close to the water. It was not a very coldseason, but it was almost worse, for it was very wet. The little brookswelled, turned muddy yellow, and came rushing and tumbling along, faroutside its banks, so that Patience wondered whether there could be anydanger of its coming up to their hut and perhaps drowning them. "I think there is no fear, " said Steadfast. "You see this house has beenhere from old times and never got washed away. " "It wouldn't wash away very easily, " said Patience, "I wish we were inone of the holes up there. " "If it looks like danger we might get up, " said Steadfast, and to pleaseher he cleared a path to a freshly discovered cave a little lower downthe stream, but so high up on the rocky sides of the ravine as to besafe from the water. Once Patience, left at home watching the rushing of the stream, becameso frightened that she actually took the children up there, and setRusha to hold the baby while she dragged up some sheepskins and somefood. Steadfast coming home asked what she was about and laughed at her, showing her, by the marks on the trees, that the flood was already goingdown. Such alarms came seldom, but the constant damp was worse. Happilyit was always possible to keep up a fire, wood and turf peat wasplentiful and could be had for the cutting and carrying, and though thesmoke made their eyes tingle, perhaps it hindered the damp from hurtingthem, when all the walls wept, in spite of the reed mats which they hadwoven and hung over them. And then it was so dark, Patience's rushes didnot give light enough to see to do anything by them even when they didnot get blown out, and when the sun had set there was nothing for it, but as soon as the few cattle had been foddered in their shed and cave, to draw the mat and sheepskins that made a curtain by way of door, fasten it down with a stone, share with dog and cat the supper of broth, or milk, or porridge which Patience had cooked, and then lie down onthe beds of dried leaves stuffed into sacking, drawing over them theblankets and cloaks that had happily been saved in the chest, andnestling on either side of the fire, which, if well managed, wouldsmoulder on for hours. There the two elder ones would teach Rusha hercatechism and tell old stories, and croon over old rhymes till both thelittle ones were asleep, and then would hold counsel on their affairs, settle how to husband their small stock of money, consider how soon itwould be expedient to finish their store of salted mutton and pork tokeep them from being spoilt by damp, and wonder when their hens wouldbegin to lay. It could hardly be a merry Christmas for the poor children, though theydid stick holly in every chink where it would go, but there were notmany berries that year, and as Rusha said, "there were only thorns. " Steadfast walked to Bristol through slush and mire and rain, not evenSmith Blane went with him, deeming the weather too bad, and thinking, perhaps, rather over much of the goose at home. Bristol people were keeping Christmas with all their might, making themore noise and revelry because the Parliament had forbidden the feast tobe observed at all. It was easy to tell who was for the King and who forthe Parliament, for there were bushes of holly, mistletoe, and ivy, atall the Royalist doors and windows, and from many came the savoury steamof roast beef or goose, while the other houses were shut up as close aspossible and looked sad and grim. All the bells of all the churches were ringing, and everybody seemed tobe trooping into them. As Steadfast was borne along by the throng, therewas a pause, and a boy of his own age with a large hat and long feather, beneath which could be seen curls of jet-black hair, walked at the headof a party of gentlemen. Everyone in the crowd uncovered and there wasa vehement outcry of "God save the King! God save the Prince of Wales!"Everyone thronged after him, and Steadfast had a hard struggle tosqueeze into the Cathedral, and then had to stand all the time withhis back against a pillar, for there was not even room to kneel down atfirst. There was no organ, but the choir men and boys had rallied there, andled the Psalms which went up very loudly and heartily. Then the Deanwent up into the pulpit and preached about peace and goodwill to men, and how all ought to do all in their power to bring those blessed giftsback again. A good many people dropped off during the sermon, and moreafter it, but Steadfast remained. He had never been able to come to theCommunion feast since the evil times had begun, and he had thought muchabout it on his lonely walk, and knew that it was the way to be helpedthrough the hard life he was living. When all was over he felt very peaceful, but so hungry and tired withstanding and kneeling so long after his walk, that he was glad to leanagainst the wall and take out the piece of bread that Patience had putin his wallet. Presently a step came near, and from under a round velvet skull-cap akind old face looked at him which he knew to be that of the Dean. "Is that all your Christmas meal, my good boy?" he asked. "I shall have something for supper, thank your reverence, " repliedSteadfast, taking off his leathern cap. "Well, mayhap you could away with something more, " said the Dean. "Comewith me. " And as Steadfast obeyed, he asked farther, "What is your name, my child?I know your face in church, but not in town. " "No, sir, I do not live here. I am Steadfast Kenton, and I am fromElmwood, but we have no prayers nor sermon there since they took theparson away. " "Ah! good Master Holworth! Alas! my child, I fear you will scarce seehim back again till the King be in London once more, which Heaven grant. And, meantime, Sir George Elmwood being patron, none can be intrudedinto his room. It is a sore case, and I fear me the case of many aparish besides. " Steadfast was so much moved by the good Dean's kindness as to begin toconsider whether it would be betraying the trust to consult him aboutthat strange treasure in the cave, but the lad was never quick ofthought, and before he could decide one of the canons joined the Dean, and presently going up the steps to the great hall of the Deanery, Steadfast saw long tables spread with snowy napkins, trenchers laid allround, and benches on which a numerous throng were seating themselves, mostly old people and little children, looking very poor and ragged. Steadfast held himself to be a yeoman in a small way, and somewhat abovea Christmas feast with the poor, but the Dean's kindness was enough tomake him put away his pride, and then there was such a delicious steamcoming up from the buttery hatch as was enough to melt away all nonsenseof that sort from a hungry lad. Grand joints of beef came up in clouds of vapour, and plum puddingssmoked in their rear, to be eaten with them, after the fashion of thesedays, when of summer vegetables there were few, and of winter vegetablesnone. The choirmen and boys, indeed all the Cathedral clergy who wereunmarried, were dining there too, but the Dean and his wife waited onthe table where the poorest were. Horns of ale were served to everyone, and then came big mince pies. Steadfast felt a great longing to takehis home to his sisters, but he was ashamed to do it, even though he sawthat it was permissible, they were such beggarly-looking folks who setthe example. However, the Dean's wife came up to him with a pleasant smile and askedif he had no appetite or if he were thinking of someone at home, andwhen he answered, she kindly undertook to lend him a basket, for whichhe might call after evensong, and in the basket were also afterwardsfound some slices of the beef and a fine large cake. Then the young Prince and his suite came in, and he stood at the end ofthe hall, smiling and looking amused as everyone's cup was filled withwine--such wine as the Roundhead captains had left, and the Dean at thehead of the table gave out the health of his most sacred Majesty KingCharles, might God bless him, and confound all his enemies! The Princebared his black shining locks and drank, and there was a deep Amen, and then a hurrah enough to rend the old vaulted ceiling; and equallyenthusiastically was the Prince's health afterwards drunk. Stead heard the servants saying that such a meal had been a costlymatter, but that the good Dean would have it so in order that one moretrue merry Christmas should be remembered in Bristol. CHAPTER X. A TERRIBLE HARVEST DAY. "There is a reaper, whose name is death. " LONGFELLOW. Spring came at last, cold indeed but dry, and it brought calves, andkids, and lambs, and little pigs, besides eggs and milk. The creaturesprospered for two reasons no doubt. One was that Stead and Patiencealways prayed for a blessing on them, and the other was that they werealmost as tender and careful over the dumb things as they were overlittle Ben, who could now run about and talk. All that year nothingparticular happened to the children. Patience's good butter and fresheggs had come to be known in Bristol, and besides, Stead and Rusha usedto find plovers' eggs on the common, for which the merchants' ladieswould pay them, or later for wild strawberries and for whortleberries. Stead could also make rush baskets and mats, and they were very glad ofsuch earnings, some of which they spent on clothes, and on making theirhut more comfortable, while some was stored up in case of need in thewinter. For another year things went on much in the same manner, Bristol wasstill kept by the King's troops; but when Steadfast went into the placethere was less cheerfulness among the loyal folk, and the Puritans beganto talk of victories of their cause, while in the Cathedral the canon'svoice trembled and grew choked in the prayer for the King, and thesermons were generally about being true and faithful to King and churchwhatever might betide. The Prince of Wales had long since moved away, indeed there were reports that the plague was in some of the low, crowded streets near the water, and Patience begged her brother to takecare of himself. There had been no Christmas feast at the Deanery, it was understood thatthe Dean thought it better not to bring so many people together. Then as harvest time was coming on more soldiers came into the place. They looked much shabbier than the troops of a year ago, their coatswere worn and soiled, and their feathers almost stumps, but they made upfor their poverty by swagger and noise, and Steadfast was thankfulthat it was unlikely that any of them should find the way to his littlevalley with what they called requisitions for the King's service, butwhich meant what he knew too well. Some of the villagers formed intobands, and agreed to meet at the sound of a cowhorn, to drive anyone offon either side, who came to plunder, and they even had a flag with themotto-- "If you take our cattle We will give you battle. " And they really did drive off some stragglers. Stead, however, acceptedthe offer from Tom Gates of a young dog, considerably larger andstronger than poor old Toby, yellow and somewhat brindled, and known asGrowler. He looked very terrible, but was very civil to those whom heknew, and very soon became devoted to all the family, especially tolittle Ben. However, most of the garrison and the poorer folk of thetown were taken up with mending the weak places in the walls, anddigging ditches with the earth of which they made steep banks, and therewere sentries at the gates, who were not always civil. Whatever thecountry people brought into the town was eagerly bought up, and was paidfor, not often in the coin of the realm, but by tokens made of tin orsome such metal with odd stamps upon them, and though they could be usedas money they would not go nearly so far as the sums they were held torepresent--at least in anyone's hands but those of the officers. There were reports that the Parliament army was about to besiege thetown, and Prince Rupert was coming to defend it. Steadfast was veryanxious, and would not let his sisters stir out of the valley, keepingthe cattle there as much as possible. One day, when he had been sent for to help to gather in Lady Elmwood'sharvest, in the afternoon the reaping and binding were suddenlyinterrupted by the distant rattle of musketry, such as had been heardtwo years ago, in the time of the first siege but it was in quiteanother direction from the town. Everyone left off work, and made whatspeed they could to the top of the sloping field, whence they could seewhat was going on. "There they be!" shouted Tom Gates. "I saw 'em first! Hurrah! They be atLuck's mill. " "Hush! you good-for-nothing, " shrieked Bess Hart, throwing her apronover her head. "When we shall all be killed and murdered. " "Not just yet, dame, " said Master Brown. "They be a long way off, andthey have enow to do with one another. I wonder if Sir George be there. He writ to my lady that he hoped to see her ere long. " "And my Roger, " called out a woman. "He went with Sir George. " "And our Jack, " was the cry of another; while Steadfast thought ofJephthah, but knew he must be on the opposite side. From the top of thefield, they could see a wide sweep of country dipping down less than twomiles from them where there was a bridge over a small river, a mill, andone or two houses near. On the nearer side of the river could be seenthe flash of steel caps, and a close, dark body of men, on the furtherside was another force, mostly of horsemen, with what seemed likewaggons and baggage horses in the rear. They had what by itscolours seemed to be the English banner, the others had severalundistinguishable standards. Puffs of smoke broke from the windows ofthe mill. "Aye!" said Goodman Blane. "I would not be in Miller Luck's shoes justnow. I wonder where he is, poor rogue. Which side have got his mill, think you, Master Brown?" "The round-headed rascals for certain, " said Master Brown, "and thebridge too, trying to hinder the King's men from crossing bag andbaggage to relieve the town. " "See, there's a party drawing together. Is it to force the bridge?" "Aye, aye, and there's another troop galloping up stream. Be theyrunning off, the cowards?" "Not they. Depend on it some of our folks have told them of Colham ford. Heaven be with them, brave lads. " "Most like Sir George is there, I don't see 'em. " "No, of course not, stupid, they'll be taking Colham Lane. See, see, there's a lot of 'em drawn up to force the bridge. Good luck be withthem. " More puffs of smoke from the mill, larger ones from the bank, and arattle and roll came up to the watchers. There was a moment's shock andpause in the assault, then a rush forward, and the distant sound of acheer, which those on the hill could not help repeating. But from thered coats on and behind the bridge, proceeded a perfect cloud of smoke, which hid everything, and when it began to clear away on the wind, thereseemed to be a hand-to-hand struggle going on upon the bridge, smallerpuffs, as though pistols were being used, and forms falling overthe parapet, at which sight the men held their breath, and the womenshrieked and cried "God have mercy on their poor souls. " And then thedark-coated troops seemed to be driven back. "That was a feint, only a feint, " cried Master Brown. "See there!" For the plumed troop of horsemen had indeed crossed, and came gallopingdown the bank with such a jingling and clattering, and thundering ofhoofs as came up to the harvest men above, and Master Brown led thecheer as they charged upon the compact mass of red coats behind thebridge, and broke and rode them down by the vehemence of the shock. "Hurrah!" cried Blane. "Surely they will turn now and take the fellowson the bridge in the rear. No. Ha! they are hunting them down on totheir baggage! Well done, brave fellows, hip! hip!--" But the hurrah died on his lips as a deep low hum--a Psalm tune sung byhundreds of manly voices--ascended to his ears, to the accompanimentof the heavy thud of horsehoofs, and from the London Road, betweenthe bridge and the Royalist horsemen, there emerged a compact body oftroopers, in steel caps and corslets. Forming in ranks of three abreast, they charged over the bridge, and speedily cleared off the Royalists whowere struggling to obtain a footing there. There was small speech on the hill side, as the encounter was watched, and the Ironsides forming on the other side, charged the already brokentroops before they had time to rally, and there was nothing to beseen but an utter dispersion and scattering of men, looking from thatdistance like ants when their nest has been broken into. It was only a skirmish, not to be heard of in history, but opening theway for the besiegers to the walls of Bristol, and preventing any ofthe supplies from reaching the garrison, or any of the intendedreinforcements, except some of the eager Cavaliers, who galloped onthither, when they found it impossible to return and guard the bridgefor their companions. The struggle was over around the bridge in less than two hours, but nomore of Lady Elmwood's harvest was gathered in that evening. The peoplewatched as if they could not tear themselves from the contemplationof the successful bands gathering together in their solid masses, andmarching onwards in the direction of Bristol, leaving, however, a strongguard at the bridge, over which piled waggons and beasts of burthencontinued to pass, captured no doubt and prevented from relieving thecity. It began to draw towards evening, and Master Brown was beginningto observe that he must go and report to my lady, poor soul; and as tothe corn, well, they had lost a day gaping at the fight, and they mustcome up again to-morrow, he only hoped they were not carting it for theround-headed rogues; when at that moment there was a sudden cry, firstof terror, then of recognition, "Roger, Hodge Fitter! how didst comehere?" For a weary, worn-out trooper, with stained buff coat, and heavy boots, stood panting among them. "I thought 'twas our folks, " he said. "Bemother here?" "Hodge! My Hodge! Be'st hurt, my lad?" cried the mother, burstingthrough the midst and throwing herself on him, while his fathercontented himself with a sort of grunt. "All right, Hodge. How com'sthere?" "And where's my Jack?" exclaimed Goody Bent. "And where's our Harry?" was another cry from Widow Lakin. While Stead longed to ask, but could not be heard in the clamour, whether his brother had been there. Hodge could tell little--seen less than the lookers on above. He hadbeen among those who had charged through the enemy, and ridden towardsBristol, but his horse had been struck by a stray shot, and killed underhim. He had avoided the pursuers by scrambling through a hedge, and thenhad thought it best to make his way through the fields to his own home, until, seeing the party on the hill, he had joined them, expecting tofind his parents among them. Sir George he knew to be on before him, and probably almost at Bristolby this time. Poor Jack had been left weeks ago on the field of Naseby, though there had been no opportunity of letting his family know. "Illnews travels fast enough!" And as to Harry, he had been shot down by atrooper near about the bridge, but mayhap might be alive for all that. "And my brother, Jeph Kenton, " Steadfast managed to say. "Was he there?" "Jeph Kenton! Why, he's a canting Roundhead. The only Elmwood man as is!More shame for him. " "But was he there?" demanded Stead. "There! Well, Captain Venn's horse were there, and he was in them! Ihave seen him more than once on outpost duty, prating away as if he hada beard on his chin. I'd a good mind to put a bullet through him to stophis impudence, for a disgrace to the place. " "Then he was in the fight?" reiterated Steadfast. "Aye, was he. And got his deserts, I'll be bound, for we went smacksmooth through Venn's horse, like a knife through a mouldy cheese, andleft 'em lying to the right and left. If the other fellows had but stuckby us as well, we'd have made a clean sweep of the canting dogs. " Hodge's eloquence was checked by the not unwelcome offer of a drink ofcider. "Seems quiet enough down there, " said Nanny Lakin, peering wistfullyover the valley where the shadows of evening were spreading. "Mayhap ifI went down I might find out how it is with my poor lad. " "Nay, I'll go, mother, " said a big, loutish youth, hitherto silent;"mayn't be so well for womenfolk down there. " "What's that to me, Joe, when my poor Harry may be lying a bleeding hisdear life out down there?" "There's no fear, " said Hodge. "To give them their due, the Roundheadsbe always civil to country folk and women--leastways unless they take'em for Irish--and thinking that, they did make bloody work with thepoor ladies at Naseby. But the dame there will be safe enough, " headded, as she was already on the move down hill. "Has no one a keg ofcider to give her? I know what 'tis to lie parching under a wound. " Someone produced one, and as her son shouted "Have with you, mother, "Steadfast hastily asked Tom Oates to let Patience know that he was goneto see after Jephthah, and joined Ned Lakin and his mother. Jeph had indeed left his brothers and sisters in a strange, wild way, almost cruel in its thoughtlessness; but to Stead it had never seemedmore than that elder brotherly masterfulness that he took as a matter ofcourse, and there was no resting in the thought of his lying wounded andhelpless on the field--nay, the assurance that Hodge shouted out thatthe rebel dogs took care of their own fell on unhearing or unheedingears, as Steadfast and Ned Lakin dragged the widow through a gap in thehedge over another field, and then made their way down a deep stony lanebetween high hedges. It was getting dark, in spite of the harvest moon, by the time theycame out on the open space below, and began to see that saddest of allsights, a battlefield at night. A soldier used to war would perhaps have scorned to call this a battle, but it was dreadful enough to these three when they heard the sobbingpanting, and saw the struggling of a poor horse not quite dead, and hisrider a little way from him, a fine stout young man, cold and stiff, asNanny turned up his face to see if it was her Harry's. A little farther on lay another figure on his back, but as Nanny stoopedover it, a lantern was flashed on her and a gruff voice called out, "Villains, ungodly churls, be you robbing the dead?" and a tall manstood darkly before them, pistol in hand. "No, sir; no, sir, " sobbed out Nanny. "I am only a poor widow woman, come down to see whether my poor lad be dead or alive and wanting hismother. " "What was his regiment?" demanded the soldier in a kinder voice. "Oh, sir, your honour, don't be hard on him--he couldn't help it--hewent with Sir George Elmwood. " "That makes no odds, woman, when a man's down, " said the soldier. "Unless 'tis with the Fifth Monarchy sort, and I don't hold with them. Ihave an uncle and a cousin or two among the malignants, as good fellowsas ever lived--no Amalekites and Canaanites--let Smite-them Derry saywhat he will. Elmwood! let's see--that was the troop that forded higherup, and came on Fisher's corps. This way, dame. If your son be down, you'll find him here; that is, unless he be carried into the mill or oneof the houses. Most of the wounded lie there for the night, but the poorlads that are killed must be buried to-morrow. Take care, dame, " as poorNanny cried out in horror at having stumbled over a dead man's legs. Heheld his lantern so that she could see the face while she groaned out, "Poor soul. " And thus they worked their sad way up to the buildingsabout the water mill. There was a shed through the chinks of which lightcould be seen, and at the door of which a soldier exclaimed-- "Have ye more wounded, Sam? There's no room for a dog in here. They lieas thick as herrings in a barrel. " "Nay, 'tis a poor country woman come to look for her son. What's hisname? Is there a malignant here of the name of Harry Lakin?" The question was repeated, and a cry of gladness, "Mother! mother!"ended in a shriek of pain in the distance within. "Aye, get you in, mother, get you in. A woman here will be all thebetter, be she who she may. " The permission was not listened to. Nanny had already sprung into themidst of the mass of suffering towards the bloody straw where her sonwas lying. Steadfast, who had of course looked most anxiously at each of the stillforms on the way, now ventured to say:-- "So please you, sir, would you ask after one Jephthah Kenton? On yourown side, sir, in Captain Venn's troop? I am his brother. " "Oh, ho! you are of the right sort, eh?" said the soldier. "JephthahKenton. D'ye know aught of him, Joe?" "I heard him answer to the roll call before Venn's troop went off toquarters, " replied the other man. "He is safe and sound, my lad, andVenn's own orderly. " Steadfast's heart bounded up. He longed still to know whether poor HarryLakin was in very bad case, but it was impossible to get in to discover, and he was pushed out of the way by a party carrying in another woundedman, whose moans and cries were fearful to listen to. He thought itwould be wisest to make the best of his way home to Patience, and sether likewise at rest, for who could tell what she might not have heard. The moon was shining brightly enough to make his way plain, but thescene around was all the sadder and more ghastly in that pallid light, which showed out the dark forms of man and horse, and what was worse thewhite faces turned up, and those dark pools in which once or twice hehad slipped as he saw or fancied he saw movements that made him shudder, while a poor dog on the other side of the stream howled piteously fromtime to time. Presently, as he came near a hawthorn bush which cast a strangely shapedshadow, he heard a sobbing--not like the panting moan of a wounded man, but the worn out crying of a tired child. He thought some village littleone must have wandered there, and been hemmed in by the fight, and hecalled out-- "Is anyone there?" The sobbing ceased for a moment and he called again, "Who is it? I won'thurt you, " for something white seemed to be squeezing closer into thebush. "Who are you for?" piped out a weak little voice. "I'm no soldier, " said Steadfast. "Come out, I'll take you homeby-and-by. " "I have no home!" was the answer. "I want father. " Steadfast was now under the tree, and could see that it was a littlegirl who was sheltering there of about the same size as Rusha. He triedto take her hand, but she backed against the tree, and he repeated "Comealong, I wouldn't hurt you for the world. Who is your father? Whereshall we find him?" "My father is Serjeant Gaythorn of Sir Harry Blythedale's troopers, "said the child, somewhat proudly, then starting again, "You are not arebel, are you?" "No, I am a country lad, " said Steadfast; "I want to help you. Come, youcan't stay here. " For the little hand she had yielded to him was cold and damp with theSeptember dews. His touch seemed to give her confidence, and when heasked, "Can't I take you to your mother?" she answered-- "Mother's dead! The rascal Roundheads shot her over at Naseby. " "Poor child! poor child!" said Steadfast. "And you came on with yourfather. " "Yes, he took me on his horse over the water, and told me to wait by thebush till he came or sent for me, but he has not come, and the firing isover and it is dark, and I'm so hungry. " Steadfast thought the child had better come home with him, but shedeclared that father would come back for her. He felt convinced thather father, if alive, must be in Bristol, and that he could hardly comethrough the enemy's outposts, and he explained to her this view. Tohis surprise she understood in a moment, having evidently much moreexperience of military matters than he had, and when he further toldher that Hodge was at Elmwood, and would no doubt rejoin his regimentat Bristol the next day, she seemed satisfied, and with the prospect ofsupper before her, trotted along, holding Steadfast's hand and munchinga crust which he had found in his pouch, the remains of the interruptedmeal, but though at first it seemed to revive her a good deal, the poorlittle thing was evidently tired out, and she soon began to drag, andfret, and moan. The three miles was a long way for her, and tired as hewas, Steadfast had to take her on his back, and when at last he reachedhome, and would have set her down before his astonished sisters, she wasfast asleep with her head on his shoulder. CHAPTER XI. THE FORTUNES OF WAR. "Hear and improve, he pertly cries, I come to make a nation wise. " GAY Very early in the morning, before indeed anyone except Patience wasstirring, Steadfast set forth in search of Roger Fitter to consult himabout the poor child who was fast asleep beside Jerusha; and propose tohim to take her into Bristol to find her father. Hodge, who had celebrated his return by a hearty supper with hisfriends, was still asleep, and his mother was very unwilling to callhim, or to think of his going back to the wars. However, he rolled downthe cottage stair at last, and the first thing he did was to observe-- "Well, mother, how be you? I felt like a boy again, waking up in the oldchamber. Where's my back and breast-piece? Have you a cup of ale, whileI rub it up?" "Now, Hodge, you be not going to put on that iron thing again, whenyou be come back safe and sound from those bloody wars?" entreated hismother. "Ho, ho! mother, would you have me desert? No, no! I must to my coloursagain, or Sir George and my lady might make it too hot to hold you here. Hollo, young one, Stead Kenton, eh? Didst find thy brother? No, I'll bebound. The Roundhead rascals have all the luck. " "I found something else, " said Steadfast, and he proceeded to tell aboutthe child while Dame Fitter stood by with many a pitying "Dear heart!"and "Good lack!" Hodge knew Serjeant Gaythorn, and knew that the poor man's wife had beenshot dead in the flight from Naseby; but he demurred at the notionof encumbering himself with the child when he went into the town. Hesuspected that he should have much ado to get in himself, and if hecould not find her father, what could he do with her? Moreover, he much doubted whether the serjeant was alive. He had beenamong those on whom the sharpest attack had fallen, and not many of themhad got off alive. "What like was he?" said Steadfast. "We looked at a many of the poorcorpses that lay there. They'll never be out of my eyes again at night!" "A battlefield or two would cure that, " grimly smiled Hodge. "Gaythorn--he was a man to know again--had big black moustaches, andhad lost an eye, had a scar like a weal from a whip all down here from asword-cut at Long Marston. " "Then I saw him, " said Stead, in a low voice. "Did he wear a greenscarf?" "Aye, aye. Belonged to the Rangers, but they are pretty nigh all gonenow. " "Under the rail of the miller's croft, " added Stead. "Just so. That was where I saw them make a stand and go down likeskittles. " "Poor little maid. What shall I tell her?" "Well, you can never be sure, " said Hodge. "There was a man now Ithought as dead as a door nail at Newbury that charged by my side onlyyesterday. You'd best tell the maid that if I find her father I'll sendhim after her; and if not, when the place is quiet, you might look atthe mill and see if he is lying wounded there. " Steadfast thought the advice good, and it saved him from what he had noheart to do, though he could scarcely doubt that one of those ghastlyfaces had been the serjeant's. When he approached his home he was surprised to hear, through thecopsewood, the sound of chattering, and when he came in sight of thefront of the hut, he beheld Patience making butter with the long handledchurn, little Ben toddling about on the grass, and two little girlslaughing and playing with all the poultry round them. One, of course, was stout, ruddy, grey-eyed Rusha, in her tight roundcap, and stout brown petticoat with the homespun apron over it;the other was like a fairy by her side; slight and tiny, dressed insomething of mixed threads of white and crimson that shone in thesun, with a velvet bodice, a green ribbon over it, and a gem over theshoulder that flashed in the sun, a tiny scarlet hood from which sucha quantity of dark locks streamed as to give something the effect of agoldfinch's crown, and the face was a brilliant little brown one, withglowing cheeks, pretty little white teeth, and splendid dark eyes. Patience could have told that this bright array was so soiled, rumpled, ragged, and begrimed, that she hardly liked to touch it, but toSteadfast, who had only seen the child in the moonlight, she was awonderful vision in the morning sunshine, and his heart was struck witha great pity at her clear, merry tones of laughter. As he appeared in the open space, Toby running before him, the littlegirl looked up and rushed to him crying out-- "It's you. Be you the country fellow who took me home? Where's father?" Stead was so sorry for her that he took her up in his arms and said-- "Hodge Fitter is gone into town to look for him, my pretty. You mustwait here till he comes for you, " and he would have kissed her, but sheturned her head away, pouted, and said, "I didn't give you leave to dothat, you lubber lad. " Steadfast was much diverted. He was now a tall sturdy youth of sixteen, in a short smock frock, long leathern gaiters, and a round straw hatof Patience's manufacture, and he felt too clumsy for the dainty littlebeing, whom he hastened to set on her small feet--in once smart but verydilapidated shoes. His sisters were somewhat shocked at her impertinenceand Rusha breathed out "Oh--!" "I am to wait here for Serjeant Gaythorn, " observed the little damselsomewhat consequentially. "Well! it is a strange little makeshift of aplace, but 'tis the fortune of war, and I have been in worse. " "It is beautiful!" said Rusha, "now we have got a glass window--anda real door--and beds--" all which recent stages in improvement sheenumerated with a gasp of triumph and admiration between each. "So you think, " said little Mistress Gaythorn. "But I have lived in acastle. " She was quite ready to tell her history. Her name was Emlyn, and theearly part of the eight years of her life had been spent at Sir HarryBlythedale's castle, where her father had been butler and her mother mylady's woman. Sir Harry had gone away to the wars, and in his absencemy lady had held out the castle (perhaps it was only a fortified house)against General Waller, hoping and hoping in vain for Lord Goring tocome to her relief. "That was worst of all, " said Emlyn, "we had to hide in the cellars whenthey fired at us--and broke all the windows, and a shot killed mypoor dear little kitten because she wouldn't stay down with me. Andwe couldn't get any water, except by going out at night; young MasterGeorge was wounded at the well. And they only gave us a tiny bit ofdry bread and salt meat every day, and it made little Ralph sick and hedied. And at last there was only enough for two days more--and a greatbreach--that's a hole, " she added condescendingly, --"big enough to drivemy lady's coach-and-six through in the court wall. So then my ladysent out Master Steward with one of the best napkins on the end of astick--that was a flag of truce, you know--and all the rascal Roundheadshad to come in, and we had to go out, with only just what we couldcarry. My lady went in her coach with Master George, because he washurt, and the young ladies, and some of the maids went home; but themost of us kept with my lady, to guard her to go to his Honour and theKing at Oxford. Father rode big Severn, and mother was on a pillionbehind him, with baby in her arms, and I sat on a cushion in front. " After that, it seemed that my lady had found a refuge among her kindred, but that the butler had been enrolled in his master's troop of horse, and there being no separate means of support for his wife and children, they had followed the camp, a life that Emlyn had evidently enjoyed, although the baby died of the exposure. She had been a great pet andfavourite with everybody, and no doubt well-cared for even after the sadday when her mother had perished in the slaughter at Naseby. Patiencewondered what was to become of the poor child, if her father neverappeared to claim her; but it was no time to bring this forward, forSteadfast, as soon as he had swallowed his porridge, had to go off tofinish his day's labour for the lady of the manor, warning his sistersthat they had better keep as close as they could in the wood, and notlet the cattle stray out of their valley. He had not gone far, however, before he met a party of his fellowlabourers running home. Their trouble had been saved them. The Roundheadsoldiers had taken possession of waggons, horses, corn and all, as theproperty of a malignant, and were carrying them off to their camp beforethe town. Getting up on a hedge, Stead could see these strange harvestmen loadingthe waggons and driving them off. He also heard that Sir George hadcome late in the evening, and taken old Lady Elmwood and several of theservants into Bristol for greater safety. Then came the heavy boom of agreat gun in the distance. "The Parliament men are having their turn now--as the King's men hadbefore, " said Gates. And all who had some leisure--or made it--went off to the church towerto get a better view of the white tents being set up outside the citywalls, and the compact bodies of troops moving about as if impelled bymachinery, while others more scattered bustled like insects about thecamp. Steadfast, however, went home, very anxious about his own three cows, and seven sheep with their lambs, as well as his small patches of corn, which, when green, had already only escaped being made forage of by theRoyalist garrison, because he was a tenant of the loyal Elmwoods. Thesefields were exposed, though the narrow wooded ravine might protect thesmall homestead and the cattle. He found his new guest very happy cracking nuts, and expounding to Rushawhat kinds of firearms made the various sounds they heard. Patience hadmade an attempt to get her to exchange her soiled finery for a soberdress of Rusha's; but "What shall I do, Stead?" said the graveelder sister, "I cannot get her to listen to me, she says she isno prick-eared Puritan, but truly she is not fit to be seen. " Steadwhistled. "Besides that she might bring herself and all of us intodanger with those gewgaws. " "That's true, " said Stead. "Look you here, little maid--none can saywhether some of the rebel folk may find their way here, and they don'tlike butterflies of your sort, you know. If you look a sober littlebrown bee like Rusha here, they will take no notice, but who knows whatthey might do it they found you in your bravery. " "Bravery, " thought Patience, "filthy old rags, me seems, " but she hadthe prudence not to speak, and Emlyn nodded her head, saying, "I'll doit for you, but not for her. " And when all was done, and she was transformed into a littlerusset-robed, white-capped being, nothing would serve her, but tocollect all the brightest cranesbill flowers she could find, and stickthem in her own bodice and Rusha's. Patience could not at all understand the instinct for bright colours, but even little Ben shouted "Pretty, pretty. " Perhaps it was well that the delicate pink blossoms were soon faded andcrushed, and that twilight veiled their colours, for just as the cattlewere being foddered for the night, there was a gay step on the narrowpath, and with a start of terror, Patience beheld a tall soldier, intall hat, buff coat, and high boots before her; while Growler made ahorrible noise, but Toby danced in a rapture of delight. "Ha! little Patience, is't thou?" "Jephthah, " she cried, though the voice as well as the form were greatlychanged in these two years between boyhood and manhood. "Aye, Jephthah 'tis, " he said, taking her hand, and letting her kisshim. "My spirit was moved to come and see how it was with you all, andto shew how Heaven had prospered me, so I asked leave of absenceafter roll-call, and could better be spared, as that faithful man, Hold-the-Faith Jenkins, will exhort the men this night. I came up byElmwood to learn tidings of you. Ha, Stead! Thou art grown, my lad. Mayyou be as much grown in grace. " "You are grown, too, " said Patience, almost timidly. "What a man youare, Jeph! Here, Rusha, you mind Jeph, and here is little Benoni. " "You have reared that child, then, " said Jeph, as the boy clung to hissister's skirts, "and you have kept things together, Stead, as I hardlydeemed you would do, when I had the call to the higher service. " It wasan odd sort of call, but there was no need to go into that matter, andStead answered gravely, "Yes, I thank God. He has been very good to us, and we have fared well. Come in, Jeph, and see, and have something toeat! I am glad you are come home at last. " Jephthah graciously consented to enter the low hut. He had to bend histall figure and take off his steeple-crowned hat before he could enterat the low doorway, and then they saw his closely cropped head. Patience tarried a moment to ask Rusha what had become of Emlyn. "She is hiding in the cow shed, " was the answer. "She ran off as soon asshe saw Jeph coming, and said he was a crop-eared villain. " This was not bad news, and they all entered the hut, where the fire wasmade up, and one of Patience's rush candles placed on the table witha kind of screen of plaited rushes to protect it from the worst of thedraught. Jeph had grown quite into a man in the eyes of his brothersand sisters. He looked plump and well fed, and his clothes were good andfresh, and his armour bright, a contrast to Steadfast's smock, stainedwith weather and soil, and his rough leathern leggings, althoughPatience did her best, and his shirt was scrupulously clean every Sundaymorning. The soldier was evidently highly satisfied. "So, children, you have donebetter than I could have hoped. This hovel is weather-tight and quitefit to harbour you. You have done well to keep together, and it is wellsaid that he who leaves all in the hands of a good Providence shall havehis reward. " Jeph's words were even more sacred than these, and considerably overawedPatience, who, as he sat before her there in his buff coat and belt, laying down the law in pious language, was almost persuaded to believethat their present comfort and prosperity (such as it was) was owing tothe faith which he said had led to his desertion of his family, thoughshe had always thought it mere impatience of home work fired by revengefor his father's death. No doubt he believed in this reward himself, in his relief at findinghis brothers and sisters all together and not starving, and consideredtheir condition a special blessing due to his own zeal, instead of toSteadfast's patient exertion. He was much more disposed to talk of himself and the mercies he hadreceived, but which the tone of his voice showed him to consider astruly his deserts. Captain Venn had, it seemed, always favoured him fromthe time of his enlistment and nothing but his youth prevented him frombeing a corporal. He had been in the two great battles of Marston Moorand Naseby, and come off unhurt from each, and moreover grace had beengiven him to interpret the Scriptures in a manner highly savoury andinspiriting to the soldiery. Here Patience, in utter amaze, could not help crying out "Thou, Jeph!Thou couldst not read without spelling, and never would. " He waved his hand. "My sister, what has carnal learning to do withgrace?" And taking a little black Bible from within his breastplate, heseemed about to give them a specimen, when Emlyn's impatience and hungerno doubt getting the better of her prudence, she crept into the room, and presently was seen standing by Steadfast's knee, holding out herhand for some of the bread and cheese on the table. [Illustration: Finding of Emlyn] "And who is this little wench?" demanded Jeph, somewhat displeasedthat his brother manifested a certain inattention to his exhortationby signing to Patience to supply her wants. Stead made unusual haste toreply to prevent her from speaking. "She is biding with us till she can join her father, or knows how it iswith him. " "Humph! She hath not the look of one of the daughters of our people. " "Nay, " said Steadfast. "I went down last night to the mill, Jeph, to seewhether perchance you might be hurt and wanting help, and after I hadheard that all was well with you, I lighted on this poor little maidcrouching under a bush, and brought her home with me for pity's saketill I could find her friends. " "The child of a Midianitish woman!" exclaimed Jeph, "one of the Irishidolaters of whom it is written, 'Thou shalt smite them, and spareneither man, nor woman, infant, nor suckling. '" "But I am not Irish, "broke out Emlyn, "I am from Worcestershire. My father is SerjeantGaythorn, butler to Sir Harry Blythedale. Don't let him kill me, " shecried in an access of terror, throwing herself on Steadfast's breast. "No, no. He would not harm thee, on mine hearth. Fear not, little one, he _shall_ not. " "Nay, " said Jephthah, who, to do him justice, had respected the rightsof hospitality enough not to touch his weapon even when he thoughther Irish, "we harm not women and babes save when they are even as theAmalekites. Let my brother go, child. I touch thee not, though thoube of an ungodly seed; and I counsel thee, Steadfast, touch not theaccursed thing, but rid thyself thereof, ere thou be defiled. " "I shall go so soon as father comes, " exclaimed Emlyn. "I am sure Ido not want to stay in this mean, smoky hovel a bit longer than I canhelp. " "Such are the thanks of the ungodly people, " said Jeph, gravely rising. "I must be on my way back. We are digging trenches about this greatcity, assuredly believing that it shall be delivered into our hands. " "Stay, Jeph, " said Patience. "Our corn! Will your folk come and cart itaway as they have done my lady's?" "The spoil of the wicked is delivered over to the righteous, " said Jeph. "But seeing that the land is mine, a faithful servant of the good cause, they may not meddle therewith. " "How are they to know that?" said Steadfast, not stopping to disputewhat rather startled him, since though Jeph was the eldest son, the landhad been made over to himself. To save the crop was the point. "Look you here, " said Jeph, "walk down with me to my good Captain'squarters, and he will give you a protection which you may shew to anyman who dares to touch aught that is ours, be it corn or swine, ox orass. " It was a long walk, but Steadfast was only too glad to take it for thesake of such security, and besides, there was a real pleasure in beingwith Jeph, little as he seemed like the same idle, easy-going brother, except perhaps in those little touches of selfishness and boastfulness, which, though Stead did not realise them, did recall the original Jeph. All through the moonlight walk Jeph expounded his singular mercies, which apparently meant his achievements in killing Cavaliers, and thecommendations given to him. One of these mercies was the retention ofthe home and land, though he kindly explained that his brothers andsisters were welcome to get their livelihood there whilst he was servingwith the army, but some day he should come home "as one that divideththe spoil, " and build up the old house, unless, indeed, and he glancedtowards the sloping woods of Elmwood Manor, "the house and fields of themalignants should be delivered to the faithful. " "My lady's house, " said Steadfast under his breath. "Wherefore not? Is it not written 'Goodly houses that ye builded not. 'Thou must hear worthy Corporal Hold-the-Faith expound the matter, mybrother. " They crossed the ferry and reached the outposts at last, and Stead wasmuch startled when the barrel of a musquet gleamed in the moonlight, anda gruff voice said "Stand. " "The jawbone of an ass, " promptly answered Jephthah. "Pass, jawbone of an ass, " responded the sentry, "and all's well. Butwho have you here, comrade!" Jeph explained, and they passed up the narrow lane, meeting at the endof it another sentinel, with whom the like watchword was exchanged, andthen they came out on a large village green, completely changed from itsusual aspect by rows of tents, on which the moonlight shone, while Jephseemed to know his way through them as well as if he were in the valleyof Elmwood. Most of the men seemed to be asleep, for snores issuedfrom sundry tents. In others there were low murmurings, perhaps ofconversation, perhaps of prayer, for once Stead heard the hum of an"Amen. " One or two men were about, and Jeph enquired of one if theCaptain were still up, and heard that he was engaged in exercise withthe godly Colonel Benbow. Their quarters were in one of the best houses of the little village, where light gleamed from the window, and an orderly stood within thedoor, to whom Jeph spoke, and who replied that they were just in time. In fact two officers in broad hats and cloaks were just coming out, and Stead admired Jeph's military salute to them ere he entered thefarmhouse kitchen, where two more gentlemen sat at the table with arough plan of the town laid before them. "Back again, Kenton, " said his captain in a friendly tone. "Hast heardaught of thy brethren?" "Yes, sir, I have found them well and in good heart, and have broughtone with me. " "A helper in the good cause? Heaven be gracious to thee, my son. Thouart but young, yet strength is vouchsafed to the feeble hands. " "Please, sir, " said Steadfast, who was twisting his hat about, "I've gotto mind the others, and work for them. " "Yea, sir, " put in Jeph, "there be three younger at home whom he cannotyet leave. I brought him, sir, to crave from you a protection for thecorn and cattle that are in a sort mine own, being my father's eldestson. They are all the poor children have to live on. " "Thou shalt have it, " said the captain, drawing his writing materialsnearer to him. "There, my lad. It may be thou dost serve thy Maker aswell by the plough as by the sword. " Steadfast pulled his forelock, thanked the captain, was reminded of theword for the night, and safely reached home again. CHAPTER XII. FAREWELL TO THE CAVALIERS. [Illustration: Farewell To The Cavaliers] "If no more our banners shew Battles won and banners taken, Still in death, defeat, and woe, Ours be loyalty unshaken. " SCOTT The next day the whole family turned out to gather in the corn. Rushawas making attempts at reaping, while Emlyn played with little Ben, whotoddled about, shouting and chasing her in and out among the shocks. Nowand again they paused at the low, thunderous growl of the great gunsin the distance, in strange contrast to their peaceful work, and once aforaging party of troopers rode up to the gate of the little field, butSteadfast met them there, and showed the officer Captain Venn's paper. "So you belong to Kenton of Venn's Valiants? It is well. A blessing onyour work!" said the stern dark-faced officer, and on he went, happilynot seeing Emlyn make an ugly face and clench her little fist behindhim. "How can you, Stead?" she cried. "I'd rather be cursed than blessed bysuch as he!" Stead shook his head slowly. "A blessing is better than a curse anyway, " said he, but his mind was a good deal confused between the pietyand good conduct of these Roundheads, in contrast with their uttercontempt of the Church, and rude dealing with all he had been taught tohold sacred. His harvest was, however, the matter in hand, and the little patch ofcorn was cut and bound between him and his sisters, without furtherinterruption. The sounds of guns had ceased early in the day, and aneighbour who had ventured down to the camp to offer some apples forsale leant over the gate to wonder at the safety of the crop, "though tobe sure the soldiers were very civil, if they would let alone preachingat you;" adding that there was like to be no more fighting, for one ofthe gentlemen inside had ridden out with a white flag, and it was saidthe Prince was talking of giving in. "Give in!" cried Emlyn setting her teeth. "Never. The Prince will soonmake an end of the rebels, and then I shall ride-a-cock horse with ourregiment again! I shall laugh to see the canting rogues run!" But the first thing Steadfast heard the next day was that the royalstandard had come down from the Cathedral tower. He had gone up toElmwood to get some provisions, and Tom Oates, who spent most of histime in gazing from the steeple, assured him that if he would come up, he would see for himself that the flags were changed. Indeed some of thefoot soldiers who had been quartered in the village to guard the roadshad brought the certain tidings that the city had surrendered and thatthe malignants, as they called the Royalists, were to march out thatafternoon, by the same road as that by which the parliamentary army hadgone out two years before. This would be the only chance for Emlyn to rejoin her father or tolearn his fate. The little thing was wild with excitement at the news. Disdainfully she tore off what she called Rusha's Puritan rags, thoughas that offended maiden answered "her own were _real_ rags in spiteof all the pains Patience had taken with them. Nothing would make themtidy, " and Rusha pointed to a hopeless stain and to the frayed edgespast mending. "I hate tidiness. Only Puritan rebels are tidy!" "We are not Puritans!" cried Rusha. Emlyn laughed. "Hark at your names, " she said. "And what's that greatrebel rogue of a brother of yours?" "Oh! he is Jeph! He ran away to the wars! But Stead isn't a Puritan, "cried Rusha, growing more earnest. "He always goes to church--realchurch down in Bristol. And poor father was churchmartin, and knew allthe parson's secrets. " "Hush, Rusha, " said Patience, not much liking this disclosure, howeverJerusha might have come by the knowledge, "you and Emlyn don't want toquarrel when she is just going to say good-bye!" This touched the little girls. Rusha had been much enlivened by thelittle fairy who had seen so much of the world, and had much moreplayfulness than the hard-worked little woodland maid; and Emlyn, whoin spite of her airs, knew that she had been kindly treated, was drawntowards a companion of her own age, was very fond of little Ben, andstill more so of Steadfast. Ben cried, "Em not go;" and Rusha held her hand and begged her not toforget. "O no, I won't forget you, " said Emlyn, "and when we come back with theKing and Prince, and drive the Roundhead ragamuffins out of Bristol, then I'll bring Stead a protection for Croppie and Daisy and all, asilver bodkin for you, and a Flanders lace collar for Patience, and agold chain for Stead, and--But oh! wasn't that a trumpet? Stead! Stead!We must go, or we shall miss them. " Then as she hugged and kissed them, "I'll tell Sir Harry and my lady how good you have been to me, and getmy lady to make you a tirewoman, Rusha. And dear, dear little Ben shallbe a king's guard all in gold. " Ben had her last smothering kiss, and Rusha began to cry and sob as thegay little figure, capering by Stead's side, disappeared betweenthe stems of the trees making an attempt, which Steadfast instantlyquenched, at singing, "The king shall enjoy his own again. " Patience did not feel disposed to cry. She liked the child, and wasgrieved to think what an uncertain lot was before the merry littlebeing, but her presence had made Rusha and Ben more troublesome thanthey had ever been in their lives before, and there was also the anxietylest her unguarded tongue should offend Jeph and his friends. Emlyn skipped along by Steadfast's side, making him magnificentpromises. They paused by the ruins of the farm where Stead still kept upas much of the orchard and garden as he could with so little time andso far from home, and Emlyn filled her skirt with rosy-cheeked apples, saying in a pretty gentle manner, "they were such a treat to our poorrogues on a dusty march, " and Stead aided her by carrying as many as hecould. However, an occasional bugle note, clouds of dust on the road far belowin the valley, and a low, dull tramp warned them to come forward, andstation themselves in the hedge above the deep lane where Steadfast hadonce watched for his brother. Only a few of the more adventurous villagelads were before them now, and when Stead explained that the littlewench wanted to watch for her father, they were kind in helping him toperch her in the hollow of a broken old pollard, where she could see, and not be seen. For the poor camp maiden knew the need of caution. Shedrew Steadfast close to her, and bade him not show himself till shetold him, for some of the wilder sort would blaze away their pistolsat anything, especially when they had had any good ale, or were out ofsorts. Poor fellows, there was no doubt of their being out of sorts, as theytramped along, half hidden in dust, even the officers, who rode beforethem, with ragged plumes and slouched hats. The silken banners, whichthey had been allowed to carry out, because of their prompt surrender, hung limp and soiled, almost like tokens of a defeat, and if any oneof those spectators behind the hawthorns had been conversant with Romanhistory, it would have seemed to them like the passing under the yoke, so dejected, nay, ashamed was the demeanour of the gentlemen. Emlynwhispered name after name as they went by, but even she was hushed andoverawed by the spectacle, as four abreast these sad remnants of theroyal army marched along the lane, one or two trying to whistle, a fewmore talking in under tones, but all soon dying away, as if they weretoo much out of heart to keep anything up. She scarcely stirred while the infantry, who were by far the mostnumerous, were going by, only naming corps or officer to Stead, thenthere came an interval, and the tread of horses and clank of theirtrappings could be heard. Then she almost forgot her precautions in hereagerness to crane forward. "They are coming!" she said. "All there areof them will be a guard for the Prince. " Stead felt a strange thrill of pain as he remembered the terrible scenewhen he had last beheld that tall, slight young figure, and dark face, now far sterner and sadder than in those early days, as Rupert went tomeet the bitterest hour of his life. Several gentlemen rode with him, whom Emlyn named as his staff, andthen came more troopers, not alike in dress, being, in fact, remnants ofshattered regiments. She was trembling all over with eagerness, standingup, and so leaning forward, that she might have tumbled into the lane, had not Steadfast held her. At last came a scream. "There's Sir Harry! There's Dick! There'sStaines! Oh! Dick, Dick, where's father?" There was a halt, and bronzed faces looked up. "Ha! Who's there?" "I! I! Emlyn. Oh! Dick, is father coming?" "Hollo, little one! Art thou safe after all?" "I am, I am. Father! father! Come! Where is he?" "It is poor Gaythorn's little wench, " explained one of the soldiers, asSir Harry, a grey-haired man, looking worn and weary, turned back, whileSteadfast helped the child out on the bank with some difficulty, forher extreme haste had nearly brought her down, and she stood curtseying, holding out her arms, and quivering with hope that began to be fear. "Poor child!" were the old gentleman's first words. "And where wereyou?" "Please your honour, father left me in the thorn brake, " said Emlyn, "and said he would come for me, but he did not; it got dark, and thiscountry lad found me, and took me home. Is father coming, your honour?" "Ah! my poor little maid, your father will never come again, " said SirHarry, sadly. "He went down by the mill stream. I saw him fall. What isto be done for her?" he added, turning to a younger gentleman, who rodeby him, as the child stood as it were stunned for a moment. "This is theworst of it all. Heaven knows we freely sacrifice ourselves in the causeof Church and King, but it is hard to sacrifice others. Here are thesefaithful servants, their home broken up with ours, their children dying, and themselves killed--she, by the brutes after Naseby, he, in this lastskirmish. 'Tis enough to break a man's heart. And what is to become ofthis poor little maid?" "Oh! I'll go with your honour, " cried Emlyn, stretching out her arms. "I can ride behind Dick, and I'll give no one any trouble. Oh! take me, sir. " "It cannot be done, my poor child, " said Sir Harry. "We have no womenwith us now, and we have to make our way to Newark by forced marches toHis Majesty. I have no choice but to bestow you somewhere till bettertimes come. Hark you, my good lad, she says you found her, and have beengood to her. Would your mother take charge of her? I'll leave what I canwith you, and when matters are quiet, my wife, or the child's kindred, will send after her. Will your father and mother keep her for thepresent?" "I have none, " said Steadfast. "My father was killed in his own yard bysome soldiers who wanted to drive our cows. Mother had died before, butmy sister and I made a shift to take care of the little ones in a poorplace of our own. " "And can you take the child in? You seem a good lad. " "We will do our best for her, sir. " "What's your name?" and "Where do you live?" followed. And as Steadfastreplied the old Cavalier took out his tablets and noted them, adding, "Then you and your sister will be good to her till we can send afterher. " "We will treat her like our little sister, sir. " "And here's something for her keep for the present, little enough I amafraid, but we poor Cavaliers have not much left. The King's menwere well to do when I heard last of them, and they will make it upby-and-by. Or if not, my boy, can you do this for the love of God?" "Yes, sir, " said Steadfast, looking up with his honest eyes, andtouching his forelock at the holy Name. "Here, then, " and Sir Harry held out two gold pieces, to which hiscompanion added one, and two or three of the troopers, saying somethingabout poor Gaythorn's little maid, added some small silver coins. Therewas something in Steadfast's mind that would have preferred decliningall payment, but he was a little afraid of Patience's dismay at havinganother mouth to provide for all the winter, and he thought too thatJeph's anger at the adoption of the Canaanitish child might be avertedif it were a matter of business and payment, so he accepted the sum, thanked Sir Harry and the rest, and renewed his promise to do the bestin his power for the little maiden. He rather wondered that no questionswere asked as to which side he held; but Sir Harry had no time toinquire, and could only hope that the honest, open face, respectfulmanner, clean dress, and the kindness which had rescued the child onthe battlefield were tokens that he might be trusted to take care ofthe poor little orphan. Besides, many of the country people were tooignorant to understand the difference between the sides, but only tookpart with their squire, or if they loved their clergyman, clung to him. So the knight would not ask any questions, and only further called out"Fare thee well, then, poor little maid, we will send after thee whenwe can, " and then giving a sharp, quick order, all the little partygalloped off to overtake the rest. Emlyn had been bred up in too much awe of Sir Harry to make objections, but as her friends rode off she gave a sharp shriek, screamed out onename after another, and finally threw herself down on the road bank in awild passion of grief, anger, and despair, and when Steadfast wouldhave lifted her up and comforted her, she kicked and fought him away. Presently he tried her again, begging her to come home. "I won't! I won't go to your vile, tumble-down, roundhead, crop-earedhole!" she sobbed out. "But, Sir Harry--" "I won't! I say. " He was at his wits' end, but after all, the sound of other steps comingup startled her into composing herself and sitting up. "Hollo, Stead Kenton! Got this little puppet on your hands?" said youngGates. "Hollo, mistress, you squeal like a whole litter of pigs. " "I am to take charge of her till her friends can send for her, " saidStead, with protecting dignity. "And that will be a long day! Ho, little wench, where didst get thatsweet voice?" "Hush, Tom! the child has only just heard that her father is dead. " This silenced the other lads, and Emlyn's desire to get away from themaccomplished what Steadfast wished, she put her hand into his and lethim lead her away, and as there were sounds of another troop of cavalrycoming up the lane, the boys did not attempt to follow her. She made nomore resistance, though she broke into fresh fits of moaning and cryingall the way home, such as went to Steadfast's heart, though he could notfind a word to comfort her. Patience was scarcely delighted when Rusha darted in, crying out thatEmlyn had come back again, but perhaps she was not surprised. She tookthe poor worn-out little thing in her arms, and rocked her, saying kind, tender little words, while Steadfast looked on, wondering at what girlscould do, but not speaking till, finding that Emlyn was fast asleep, Patience laid her down on the bed without waking her, and then had timeto listen to Stead's account of the interview with Sir Harry Blythedale. "I could not help it, Patience, " he said, "we couldn't leave the poorfatherless child out on the hedge-side. " "No, " said Patience, "we can't but have her, as the gentleman said, forthe love of God. He has taken care of us, so we ought to take care ofthe fatherless--like ourselves. " "That's right, Patience, " said Steadfast, much relieved in his mind, "and see here!" "I wonder you took that, Stead, and the poor gentlemen so ill offthemselves. " "Well, Patience, I thought if you would not have her, Goody Grace mightfor the pay, but then who knows when any more may come?" "Aye, " said Patience, "we must keep her, though she will be a handful. Anyway, all this must be laid out for her, and the first chance I have, some shall be in decent clothes. I can't a-bear to see her in thosedirty gewgaws. " CHAPTER XIII. GODLY VENN'S TROOP. "Ye abbeys and ye arches, Ye old cathedrals dear, The hearts that love you tremble, And your enemies have cheer. " BP. CLEVELAND COXE. "What would Jeph say?" was the thought of both Steadfast and Patience, as Emlyn ran about with Rusha and Ben, making herself tolerably happyand enlivening them all a good deal. After one fight she found that shemust obey Patience, though she made no secret that she liked the soberyoung mistress of the hut much less than the others, and could evensometimes get Steadfast to think her hardly used, but he seldom showedthat feeling, for he had plenty of sense, and could not bear to vex hissister; besides, he saw there would be no peace if her authority was notsupported. It was a relief that there was no visit from Jeph for somelittle time, though the fighting was all over, and people were going inand out of Bristol as before. Stead took the donkey with the panniers full of apples and nuts onmarket day, and a pile of fowls and ducks on its back, while he carrieda basket of eggs on his arm, and in his head certain instructions fromPatience about the grogram and linen he was to purchase for Emlyn, inthe hope of making her respectable before Jeph's eyes should rest uponher. Stead's old customers were glad to see him again, especially Mrs. Lightfoot, who had Dr. Eales once again in her back rooms, keepingout of sight, while the good Dean was actually in prison for using thePrayer-book. Three soldiers were quartered upon her at the Wheatsheaf, and though, on the whole, they were more civil and much less riotousthan some of her Cavalier lodgers had been, she was always in dread oftheir taking offence at the doctor and hauling him off to gaol. Steadfast confided to her Patience's commission, which she undertookto execute herself. It included a spinning-wheel, for Patience wasdetermined to teach Emlyn to spin, an art of which no respectable womanfrom the Queen downwards was ignorant in those days. As to finding hisbrother, the best way would be to ask the soldiers who were smoking inthe kitchen where he was likely to be. They said that the faithful and valiant Jephthah Kenton of Venn's horsewould be found somewhere about the great steeple house, profanelycalled the Cathedral, for there the troops were quartered; and thitheraccordingly Stead betook himself, starting as he saw horses gearing orbeing groomed on the sward in the close which had always been kept insuch perfect order. Having looked in vain outside for his brother, headvanced into the building, but he had only just had a view of horsesstamping between the pillars, the floor littered down with straw, afire burning in one of the niches, and soldiers lying about, smoking oreating, in all manner of easy, lounging attitudes, when suddenly therewas a shout of "Prelatist, Idolater, Baal-worshipper, Papist, " andto his horror he found it was all directed towards himself. They werepointing to his head, and two of them had caught him by the shoulders, when another voice rose "Ha! Let him alone. I say, Bill! Faithful! It'smy brother. He knows no better!" Then dashing up, Jeph rammed the greathat down over Stead's brow, eyes and all, and called out, "Whoevertouches my brother must have at me first. " "There, " said one of the others, "the old Adam need not be so fierce inthee, brother Jephthah! No one wants to hurt the lad, young prelatistthough he be, so he will make amends by burning their superstitiousbooks on the fire, even as Jehu burnt the worshippers of Baal. " Steadfast felt somewhat as Christians of old may have felt when calledon to throw incense on the altar of Jupiter, as a handful of pages tornfrom a Prayer-book was thrust into his hands. Words did not comereadily to him, but he shook his head and stood still, perhaps stolid inresistance. "Come, " said Jeph, laying hold of his shoulder to drag him along. "I cannot; 'tis Scripture, " said Stead, as in his distress his eye fellon the leaves in his hand, and he read aloud to prove it-- "Thy Word is a lantern unto my feet, and a light unto my path. " There was one moment's pause. Perhaps the men had absolutely forgottenhow much of their cherished Bible was integral in the hated Prayer-book;at any rate they were enough taken aback to enable Jeph to pull hisbrother out at the door, not without a fraternal cuff or two, as heexclaimed: "Thou foolish fellow! ever running into danger for very dullness. " "What have I done, Jeph?" asked poor Stead, still bewildered. "Done! Why, doffed thy hat, after the superstitious and idolatrouscustom of our fathers. " "How can it be idolatrous? 'Twas God's house, " said Stead. "Aye, there thou art in the gall of bitterness. Know'st thou not that nohouse is more holy than another?" and Jeph would have gone on forsome time longer, but that he heard sounds which made him suspectthat someone had condemned the version of the Psalms as prelatical andprofane, and that his comrades might yet burst forth to visit theirwrath upon his young brother, whom he therefore proceeded to lead outof sight as fast as possible into the Dean's garden, where he had theentree as being orderly to Captain Venn, who, with other officers, abodein the Deanery. There, controversy being dropped for the moment, Stead was able to tellhis brother of his expedition, and how he had been obliged to keep thechild, for very pity's sake, even if her late father's master had notbegged him to do so, and given an earnest of the payment. Jeph laughed a little scornfully at the notion of a wild Cavalier everpaying, but he was not barbarous, and allowed that there was no choicein the matter, as she could not be turned out to starve. When he heardthat Stead had come with market produce he was displeased at it nothaving been brought up for the table of his officers, assuring Steadthat they were not to be confounded with the roistering, pennilessmalignants, who robbed instead of paying. Stead said he always suppliedMistress Lightfoot, but this was laughed to scorn. "The rulers of thearmy of saints had a right to be served first, above all before one whowas believed to harbour the idolater, even the priest of the groves. " Jeph directed that the next supply should come to the Deanery, as onewho had the right of ownership, and Stead submitted, only with thesecret resolve that Dr. Eales should not want his few eggs nor his patof fresh butter. Jeph was not unkind to Stead, and took him to dine with the otherattendants of the officers in the very stone hall where he had eatenthat Christmas dinner some twenty months before. There was a verylong grace pronounced extempore, and the guests were stout, resolute, grave-looking men, who kept on their steeple-crowned hats all thetime and conversed in low, deep voices, chiefly, as far as Stead couldgather, on military matters, but they seemed to appreciate good beef andale quite as much as any Cavalier trooper could have done. One of themnoticing Stead asked whether he had come to take service with the saintsand enjoy their dominion, but Jeph answered for him that his call lay athome among those of his own household, until his heart should be wholewith the cause. On the whole Stead was proud to see Jeph holding his own, though theyoungest among these determined-looking men. These two years had madea man of the rough, idle, pleasure-loving boy, and a man after theIronsides' fashion, grave, self-contained, and self-depending. Stead hadbeen more like the elder than the younger brother in old times, but hefelt Jeph immeasurably his elder in the new, unfamiliar atmosphere; andyet the boy had a strong sense that all was not right; that these wereinterlopers in the kind old Dean's house; that the talk about Baal wasmere absurdity; and the profanation of the Cathedral would have beenutterly shocking to his good father. His mind, however, worked slowly, and he would have had nothing to say even if he could have ventured tospeak; but he was very anxious to get away; and when Jeph would havekept him to hear the serjeant expound a chapter of Revelation, hepleaded the necessity of getting home in time to milk the cows, and madehis escape. On the whole it was a relief that Jeph was too much occupied with hismilitary duties to make visits to his home. It might not have been overeasy to keep the peace between him and Emlyn, fiery little Royalist asshe was, and too much used to being petted and fascinating everyone byher saucy audacity to be likely to be afraid of him. If Patience crossed her she would have recourse to Stead, and he couldseldom resist her coaxing, or be entirely disabused of the notion thathis sister expected too much of her. And perhaps it was true. Patiencewas scarcely likely to understand differences of character andtemperament, and not merely to recollect that Emlyn was only eighteenmonths younger than she had been when she had been forced into theposition of the house mother. So, while Emlyn's wayward fancies were agreat trial, Steadfast's sympathy with them was a greater one. Stead continued to see Jeph when taking in the market produce, for whichhe was always duly paid. Jeph also wished the whole family to come inon Sunday to profit by the preaching of some of the great Independentlights; but Stead, after trying it once, felt so sure that Patiencewould be miserable at anything so unaccustomed, so thunderous, and, asit seemed to him, so abusive, that he held to it that the distance wastoo great, and that the cattle could not be left. The soldiery seemed tohim to spend their spare time in defacing the many churches of the city, chiefly in order to do what they called purifying them from all idols, in which term they included every sort of carving or picture, or evenfigures on monuments. And in this work of destruction a chest containing church plate had beencome upon, making their work greedy instead of only mischievous. When all the churches in Bristol had been ransacked, they began toextend their search to the parish churches in the neighbourhood, andStead began to be very anxious, though he hoped and believed that thecave was a perfectly safe place. CHAPTER XIV. THE QUESTION. "Dogged as does it. "--TROLLOPE. "Stead, Stead, " cried Rusha, running up to him, as he was slowly diggingover his stubble field to prepare it for the next crop, "the soldiersare in Elmwood. " "Yes, " said Emlyn, coming up at the same time, "they are knocking abouteverything in the church and pulling up the floor. " "Patience sent us to get some salt, " explained Rusha, "and we saw themfrom Dame Redman's door. She told us we had better be off and get homeas fast as we could. " "But I thought we would come and tell you, " added Emlyn, "and thenyou could get out the long gun and shoot them as they come into thevalley--that is if you can take aim--but I would load and show you how, and then they would think it was a whole ambush of honest men. " "Aye, and kill us all--and serve us right, " said Stead. "They don'twant to hurt us if we don't meddle with them. But there's a good wench, Rusha, drive up the cows and sheep this way so that I can have an eye onthem, and shew Captain Venn's paper, if any of those fellows should takea fancy to them. " "They are digging all over old parson's garden, " said Rusha, as sheobeyed. "Was Jeph there?" asked Stead. "I didn't see him, " said the child. Steadfast was very uneasy. That turning up the parson's garden lookedas if they might be in search of the silver belonging to the Church, butafter all they were unlikely to connect him with it, and it was wiserto go on with his regular work, and manifest no interest in the matter;besides that, every spadeful he heaved up, every chop he gave thestubble, seemed to be a comfort, while there was a prayer on his soulall the time that he might be true to his trust. By-and-by he saw Tom Oates running and beckoning to him, "Stead, SteadKenton, you are to come. " "What should I come for?" said Stead, gruffly. "The soldiers want you. " "What call have they to me?" "They be come to cleanse the steeple house, they says, and take thespoil thereof, and they've been routling over the floor and parson'sgarden like so many hogs, and are mad because they can't find nothing, and Thatcher Jerry says, says he, 'Poor John Kenton as was shot waschurchwarden and was very great with Parson. If anybody knows where thethings is 'tis Steadfast Kenton. ' So the corporal says, 'Is this so, Jephthah Kenton?' and Jeph, standing up in his big boots, says, 'Aye, corporal, my father was yet in the darkness of prelacy, and was what intheir blindness they call a Churchwarden, but as to my brother, that'sneither here nor there, he were but a boy and not like to know more thanI did. ' But the corporal said, 'That we will see. Is the lad here?' SoI ups and said nay, but I'd seen you digging your croft, and then theybade me fetch you. So you must come, willy-nilly, or they may send worseafter you. " Stead was a little consoled by hearing that his brother was there. Hesuspected that Jeph would have consideration enough for his sisters andfor the property that he considered his own to be unwilling to show theway to their valley; and he also reflected that it would be well thatwhatever might happen to himself should be out of sight of his sisters. Therefore he decided on following Oates, going through on the way thewhole question whether to deny all knowledge, and yet feeling thatthe things belonging to God should not be shielded by untruth. Hisresolution finally was to be silent, and let them make what they wouldout of that, and Stead, though it was long since he had put it on, had acertain sullen air of stupidity such as often belongs to such natures ashis, and which Jeph knew full well in him. They came in sight of the village green where the soldiers wererefreshing themselves at what once had been the Elmwood Arms, for thoughnot given to excess, total abstinence formed no part of the disciplineof the Puritans; and one of the men started forward, and seizing hold ofSteadfast by the shoulder exclaimed-- "As I live, 'tis the young prelatist who bowed himself down in the houseof Rimmon! Come on, thou seed of darkness, and answer for thyself. " If he had only known it, he was making the part of dogged silence andresistance infinitely easier to Steadfast by the rudeness and abuse, which, even in a better cause, would have made it natural to him to actas he was doing now, giving the soldier all the trouble of dragging himonward and then standing with his hands in his pockets like an image ofobstinacy. "Speak, " said the corporal, "and it shall be the better for thee. Hastthou any knowledge where the priests of Baal have bestowed the vesselsof their mockery of worship. " Stead moved not a muscle of his face. He had no acquaintance withpriests of Baal or their vessels, so that he was not in the leastbound to comprehend, and one of them exclaimed "The oaf knows not yourmeaning, corporal. Speak plainer to his Somerset ears. He knows not thetongue of the saints. " "Ho, then, thou child of darkness. Know'st thou where the mass-mongeringsilver and gold of this church be hidden from them of whom it is written'haste to the spoil. ' Come, speak out. A crown if thou dost speak--thelash if thou wilt not answer, thou dumb dog. " Stead was really not far removed from a dumb dog. All his faculties wereso entirely wrought up to resistance that he had hardly distinguishedthe words. "Come, come, Stead, " said Jeph, "thou art too old for thine old sulkymoods. Speak up, and tell if thou know'st aught of the Communion Cup anddish, or it will be the worse for thee. Yes or no?" Stead made a move with his shoulder to push away his brother, and stillstood silent. "There, " said Jeph, "it is all Faithful's fault for his rough handling. His back is set up. It was always so from a boy, and you'll get noughtout of him. " "Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child, but the rod of correctionshall drive it far from him, " quoted the Corporal, taking up awaggoner's whip which stood by the inn door, and the like of which hadno doubt once been a more familiar weapon to him than the sword. "Speak lad--or--" and as no speech came, the lash descended on Stead'sshoulders, not, however, hurting him much save where it grazed the skinof his face. "Now? Not a word? Take off his leathern coat, Faithful, then shall hefeel the reward of sullenness. " That Jeph did not interfere, while Faithful and another soldier tuggedoff his leathern coat, buffeting and kicking him roughly as they did so, brought additional hardness to Stead. He had been flogged in his timebefore, and not without reason, and had taken a pride in not giving in, or crying out for pain; and the ancient habit acquired in a worse cause, came to his help. He scarcely recollected the cause of his resistance;all his powers were concentrated in holding out, and when after another"Now, vile prelatic spawn, is thy heart still hardened? Yes or no?" theterrible whip came stinging and biting down on his shoulders andback, only protected by his shirt, he was entirely bound up in thedetermination to endure the pain without a groan or cry. But after blows enough had fallen to mark the shirt with streaks ofblood, Jeph could bear it no longer. "Hold!" he said. "You will never make him speak that way. Father andmother never could. Strokes do but harden him. " "The sure token of a fool, " said the corporal, and prepared for anotherlash. "'Tis plain he knows, " said one of the others. "He would never standthis if a word would save him. " "Mere malice and obstinacy, " said Faithful, "and wilfulness. He willnot utter a word. I would beat it out of him, as I was wont with our oldass. " Another stroke descended, worse than all the others after the briefinterval, but Jeph again spoke, "Look you, I know the lad of old andyou'll get no more that way than if you were flogging the sign-postthere. Whether he knows where the things are or not, the temper that isin him will never answer while you beat him, were it to save his life. Leave him to me, and I'll be bound to get an answer from him. " "And I am constable, and I must say, " said Blacksmith Blane, movingforwards, with a bar of iron in his hand, and four or five stout menbehind him, "that to come and abuse and flog a hard-working, fatherlesslad, that never did you no harm, nor anyone else, is not what honest menlook for from soldiers that talk so big about Parliament and rights andwhat not!" "'Twas for contumacy, " began the corporal. "Contumacy forsooth, as though 'twas the will of the honest gentlemen inParliament that boys should be misused for nothing at all!" "If the young dog would have spoken, " began the corporal, but somehow hedid not like the look of Blane's iron bar, and thought it best to lookup at the sun, and discover that it was time to depart if the party wereto be in time for roll-call. As it was a private marauding speculation, it might not be well to have complaints made to Captain Venn, who neversanctioned plunder nor unnecessary violence. Even Jeph had to march off, and Steadfast, who had no mind to be pitied, nor asked by the neighbourswhat was the real fact, had picked up his spade and jerkin, and was outof sight while the villagers were watching the soldiers away. The first thing he did was to give thanks in heart that he had beenaided thus far not to betray his trust, and then to feel that CorporalDodd's flogging was a far severer matter than the worst chastisement hehad ever received from his father, even when he kept Jeph's secret aboutthe stolen apples. Putting on his coat was impossible, and he was sostiff and sore that he could not hope to conceal his condition fromPatience. At home all were watching for him. They ran up in anxiety, for oneof the ever ready messengers of evil had rushed down the glen to tellPatience that the soldiers were beating Stead shamefully, and Jephstanding by not saying one word. Little Ben broke out with "Poor, poor!"and Rusha burst into tears at sight of the blood, while Emlyn said "Justwhat comes of going among the rascal Roundheads, " and Patience looked upat him and said "Was it--?" he nodded, and she quietly said "I'm glad. "He added, "Jeph's coming soon, " and she knew that the trial was notover. The brother and sister needed very few words to understand oneanother, and they were afraid to say anything that the younger onescould understand. Patience washed the weals with warm water and milk, and wrapped a cloak round him, but even the next morning, he could notuse his arms without fresh bleeding, and the hindrance to the workwas serious. He could do nothing but herd the cattle, and he was muchinclined to drive them to the further end of the moorland where Jephthahwould hardly find him, but then he recollected that Patience would beleft to bear the brunt of the attack, so that he would not go faroff, never guessing, poor fellow, that in his dull, almost blunderingfashion, he was doing like the heroes and the martyrs, but only feelingthat he must keep his trust at all costs. Jeph, however, did not comethat day or the next, so that inwardly, the wound-up feeling had passedinto a weariness of expectation, and outwardly the stripes had healedenough for Stead to go about his work as usual only a little stiffly. He went into Bristol on market day as usual, and then it was, on his wayout that Jeph joined him, saying it was to bid Patience and the littleones farewell, since the marching orders were for the morrow. He wasunusually kind and good-natured; he had a load of comfits for Rusha andBen, and a stout piece of woollen stuff for Patience which he said wassuch as he was told godly maidens wore, and which possibly the terror ofhis steel cap and corslet had cheapened at the mercer's; also he hada large packet of tractates for Stead's own reading, and he enquiredwhether they possessed a Bible. Stead wondered whether all this was out of regret at the treatment hehad undergone, or whether it was to put him off his guard, and thisoccupied him when Jeph began to preach, as he did uninterruptedly forthe last mile, without any of the sense, if there were any, reaching themind of the auditor. They reached the hut, the gifts were displayed; and when the young ones, who were all a little afraid of the elder brother, had gone off to feastupon the sweets, Jeph began with enquiries after Steadfast's back, andhe replied that it was mending fast, while Patience exclaimed at thecruelty and wickedness of so using him. "Why wouldn't he speak then?" said Jeph. "Yea or nay would have ended itin a moment, but that's Stead's way. He looks like it now!" and he did, elbows on knees, and chin on hands. "Come now, Stead, thou canst speak to me! Was it all because Faithfulhauled thee about?" "He did, and he had no call to, " said Stead, surlily. "Well, that's true, but I'm not hauling thee. Tell me, Stead, I mind nowthat thou wast out with father that last day ere the Parson was takento receive his deserts. I don't believe that even thy churlishnesswould have stood such blows if thou hadst known naught of the idolatrousvessels, and couldst have saved thy skin by saying so! No answer. Why, what have these malignants done for thee that thou shouldst hold bythem? Slain thy father! Burnt thine house! No fault of theirs that thouart alive this day! Canst not speak?" Jeph's temper giving way at the provocation, he forgot his conciliatoryintentions and seizing Stead by the collar shook him violently. Growleralmost broke his chain with rage, Patience screamed and flew to therescue, just as she had often done when they were all children together, and Jeph threw his brother from him so that he fell on the root of atree, and lay for a moment or two still, then picked himself up againevidently with pain, though he answered Patience cheerfully that it wasnought. "Thou art enough to drive a man mad with thy surly silence, " exclaimedJeph, whom this tussle had rendered much more like his old self, "andafter all, knowing that even though thou art not one of the holy ones, thou wilt not tell a lie, it comes to the same thing. I know thouwottest where these things are, and it is only thy sullen scruples thathinder thee from speaking. Nevertheless, I shall leave no stone unturnedtill I find them! For what is written 'Thou shalt break down theiraltars. '" "Jeph, " said Stead, firmly. "You left home because of your grief andrage at father's death. Would you have me break the solemn charge helaid on me?" "Father was a good man after his light, " said Jeph, a little staggered, "but that light was but darkness, and we to whom the day itself isvouchsafed are not bound by a charge laid on us in ignorance. Anyway, he laid no bonds on me, but I must needs leave thee alone in thyfoolishness of bondage! Come, Patience, wench, and aid me, I knowthis rock is honeycombed with caves, like a rabbit warren, no place solikely. " "I help thee--no indeed'" cried Patience. "Would I aid thee to do whatwould most grieve poor father, that thou once mad'st such a work about!I should be afraid of his curse. " Possibly if Jeph had not pledged himself to his comrades to overcomehis brother's resistance, and bring back the treasures, he might havedesisted; but what he did was to call to Rusha to bring him a lantern, and show him the holes, promising her a tester if she would. She broughtthe lantern, but she was a timid, little, unenterprising thing, and wasmortally afraid of the caverns, a fear that Patience had thought it wellnot to combat. Emlyn who had already scrambled all over the face of theslope, and peeped into all, could have told him a great deal more aboutthem; but she hated the sight of a rebel, and sat on the ground makingugly faces and throwing little stones after him whenever his back wasturned. Stead, afraid to betray by his looks of anxiety, when Jeph came near thespot, sat all the time with his elbows on his knees, and his handsover his face, fully trusting to what all had agreed at the time of theburial of the chest, that there was no sign to indicate its whereabouts. He felt rather than saw that Jeph, after tumbling out the straw and fernthat served for fodder in the lower caves, where the sheep and pigswere sheltered in winter, had scrambled up to the hermit's chapel, whensuddenly there was a shout, but not at all of exultation, and down amongthe bushes, lantern and all came the soldier, tumbling and crashing intothe midst of an enormous bramble, whence Stead pulled him out with thelantern flattened under him, and his first breathless words were-- "Beelzebub himself!" Then adding, as he stood upright, "he made full atme, and I saw his eyes glaring. I heard him groaning. It is an unholypopish place. No wonder!" Patience and Rusha were considerably impressed, for it was astonishingto see how horribly terrified and shaken was the warrior, who had beenin two pitched battles, and Ben screamed, and needed to be held inStead's arms to console him. Jeph had no mind to pursue his researches any further. He only tarriedlong enough to let Patience pick out half-a-dozen thorns from his cheeksand hands, and to declare that if he had not to march to-morrow, heshould bring that singular Christian man, Captain Venn, to exorcise thehaunt of Apollyon. Wherewith he bade them all farewell, with hopes thatby the time he saw them again, they would have come to the knowledge ofthe truth. No sooner was he out of sight among the bushes than Emlyn seized onRusha, and whirled her round in a dance as well as her more substantialproportions would permit, while Steadfast let his countenance expandinto the broad grin that he had all this time been stifling. "What _do_ you think it was?" asked Patience, still awestruck. "Why--the old owl--and his own bad conscience. He might talk big, but hedidn't half like going against poor father. Thank God! He has saved Hisown, and that's over!" CHAPTER XV. A TABLE OF LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS. "Yet along the Church's sky Stars are scattered, pure and high; Yet her wasted gardens bear Autumn violets, sweet and rare, Relics of a Spring-time clear, Earnests of a bright New Year. " KEBLE No more was heard or seen of Jephthah, or of Captain Venn's troop. Thegarrison within Bristol was small and unenterprising, and in point offact the war was over. News travelled slowly, but Stead picked up scrapsat Bristol, by which he understood that things looked very bad for theKing. Moreover, Sir George Elmwood died of his wounds; poor old LadyElmwood did not long survive him, and the estate, which had been leftto her for her life, was sequestrated by the Parliament, and redeemedby the next heir after Sir George, so that there was an exchange ofthe Lord of the Manor. The new squire was an elderly man, hearty andgood-natured, who did not seem at all disposed to interfere with any oneon the estate. He was a Presbyterian, and was shocked to find thatthe church had been unused for three years. He had it cleaned from theaccumulation of dirt and rubbish, the broken windows mended with plainglass, and the altar table put down in the nave, as it had been beforeMr. Holworth's time; and he presented to the living Mr. Woodley, ascholarly-looking person, who wore a black gown and collar and bands. The Elmwood folk were pleased to have prayers and sermon again, andPatience was glad that the children should not grow up like heathens;but her first church going did not satisfy her entirely. "It is all strange, " she said to Stead, who had stayed with the cattle. "He had no book, and it was all out of his own head, not a bit like oldtimes. " "Of course not, " said Emlyn. "He had got no surplice, and I knew him fora prick-eared Roundhead! I should have run off home if you had not heldme, Patience. I'll never go there again. " "I am sure you made it a misery to me, trying to make Rusha and Ben asidle and restless as yourself, " said Patience. "They ought not to listen to a mere Roundhead sectary, " said Emlyn, tossing her head. "I couldn't have borne it if I had not had the youngladies to look at. They had got silk hoods and curls and lace collars, so as it was a shame a mere Puritan should wear. " "O Emlyn, Emlyn, it is all for the outside, " said Patience. "Now, Idid somehow like to hear good words, though they were not like the oldones. " "Good, indeed! from a trumpery Puritan. " Stead went to church in the afternoon. He was eighteen now, and thatgreat struggle and effort had made him more of a man. He thought muchwhen he was working alone in the fields, and he had spent his time onSundays in reading his Bible and Prayer-book, and comparing them withJeph's tracts. Since Emlyn had come, he had made a corner of the cowshedfit to sleep in, by stuffing the walls with dry heather, and thesweet breath of the cows kept it sufficiently warm, and on the winterevenings, he took a lantern there with one of Patience's rush lights, learnt a text or two anew, and then repeated passages to himself andthought over them. What would seem intolerably dull to a lad now, wasrest to one who had been rendered older than his age by sorrow andresponsibility, and the events that were passing led people to considerreligious questions a great deal. But Stead was puzzled. The minister was not like the soldiers whom hehad heard raving about the reign of the saints, and abusing the church. He prayed for the King's having a good deliverance from his troubles, and for the peace of the kingdom, and he gave out that there was to bea week of fasting, preaching, and preparation for the Sacrament of theLord's Supper. The better sort of people in the village were very much pleased, nobodyexcept Goody Grace was dissatisfied, and people told her that was onlybecause she was old and given to grumbling at everything new. Blane theSmith tapped Stead on the shoulder, and said, "Hark ye, my lad. If itbe true that thou wast in old Parson's secrets, now's the time for thouknow'st what. " Stead's mouth was open, and his face blank, chiefly because he did notknow what to do, and was taken by surprise, and Blane took it for ananswer. "Oh! if you don't know, that's another thing, but then 'twas for nothingthat the troopers flogged you? Well, " he muttered, as Stead walkedoff, "that's a queer conditioned lad, to let himself be flogged, as Iwouldn't whip a dog, all out of temper, because he wouldn't answer aquestion. But he's a good lad, and I'll not bring him into trouble by aword to squire or minister. " The children went off to gather cowslips, and Stead was able to talk itover with Patience, who at first was eager to be rid of the dangeroustrust, and added, with a sigh, "That she had never taken the Sacramentsince the Easter before poor father was killed, and it must be nigh uponWhitsuntide now. " "That's true, " said Stead, "but nobody makes any count of holy days now. It don't seem right, Patience. " "Not like what it used to be, " said Patience. "And yet this minister issurely a godly man. " "Father and parson didn't say ought about a godly man. They made me takemy solemn promise that I'd only give the things to a lawfully ordainedminister. " "He is a minister, and he comes by law, " argued Patience. "Do besatisfied, Stead. I'm always in fear now that folks guess we havesomewhat in charge; and Emlyn is such a child for prying and chattering. And if they should come and beat thee again, or do worse. Oh, Stead!surely you might give them up to a good man like that; Smith Blane saysyou ought!" "I doubt me! I know that sort don't hold with Bishops, and, so far asI can see, by father's old Prayer-book, a lawful minister must have aBishop to lay hands on him, " said Stead, who had studied the subjectas far as his means would allow, and had good though slow brains of hisown, matured by responsibility. "I'll tell you what, Patience, I'll goand see Dr. Eales about it. I wot he is a minister of the old sort, thatfather would say I might trust to. " Dr. Eales was still living in Mrs. Lightfoot's lodgings, at the sign ofthe Wheatsheaf, or more properly starving, for he had only ten pounds ayear paid to him out of the benefice that had been taken away from him;and though that went farther then than it would do now, it would nothave maintained him, but that his good hostess charged him as little asshe could afford, and he also had a few pupils among the gentry's sons, but there were too many clergymen in the same straits for this to be avery profitable undertaking. There were no soldiers in Mrs. Lightfoot'shouse now, and the doctor lived more at large, but still cautiously, forin the opposite house, named the "Ark, " whose gable end nearly met theWheatsheaf's, dwelt a rival baker, a Brownist, whose great object seemedto be to spy upon the clergyman, and have something to report againsthim, nor was Mrs. Lightfoot's own man to be trusted. Stead lingeredabout the open stall where the bread was sold till no customer was athand, and then mentioned under his breath to the good dame his desire tospeak with her lodger. "Certainly, " she said, but the Doctor was now with his pupils atMistress Rivett's. He always left them at eleven of the clock, moreshame of Mrs. Rivett not to give the good man his dinner, which shewould never feel. Steadfast had better watch for him at the gate whichopened on the down, for there he could speak more privately and securelythan at home. He took the advice, and passed away the time as best he could, learningon the way that a news letter had been received stating that the Kingwas with the Scottish army at Newcastle, and that it was expected thaton receiving their arrears of pay, the Scots would surrender him to theParliament, a proceeding which the folk in the market-place approved ordisapproved according to their politics. Mrs. Rivett's house stood a little apart from the town, with a court andgates opening on the road over the down; and just as eleven strokes werechiming from the town clock below, a somewhat bent, silver-haired man, in a square cap and black gown, leaning on a stick, came out of it. Stead, after the respectful fashion of his earlier days, put his knee tothe ground, doffed his steeple-crowned hat and craved a blessing, bothhe and the Doctor casting a quick glance round so as to be sure therewas no one in sight. Dr. Eales gave it earnestly, as one to whom it was a rare joy to find acountry youth thus demanding it, and as he looked at the honest face hesaid: "You are mine hostess' good purveyor, methinks, to whom I have oftenowed a wholesome meal. " "Steadfast Kenton, so please your reverence. There is a secret matter onwhich I would fain have your counsel, and Mistress Lightfoot thought Imight speak to you here with greater safety. " "She did well. Speak on, my good boy, if we walk up and down here weshall be private. It does my heart good to commune with a faithful youngson of the Church. " Steadfast told his story, at which the good old Canon was much affected. His brother Holworth, as he called him, was not in prison but in theVirginian plantations. He was still the only true minister of Elmwood, and Mr. Woodley, though owned by the present so-called law of the land, was not there rightly by the law of the Church, and, therefore, Steadwas certainly not bound to surrender the trust to him, but rather thecontrary. The Doctor could have gone into a long disquisition about PresbyterianOrders, contradicting the arguments many good and devout people adducedin favour of them, but there was little time, so he only confirmed withauthority Stead's belief that a Bishop's Ordination was indispensableto a true pastor, "the only door by which to enter to the charge of thefold. " Then came the other question of attendance on his ministry, and whetherto attend the feast given out for the Sunday week, after the long-forcedabstinence: Patience's, ever since the break-up of the parish;Steadfast's, since the siege of Bristol. Dr. Eales considered, "I cannotbid you go to that in the efficacy of which neither you nor I believe, my son, " he said. "It would not be with faith. Here, indeed, I haveministered privately to a few of the faithful in their own houses, butthe risk is over great for you and your sister to join us, espied as weare. How is it with your home?" "O, sir, would you even come thither?" exclaimed Steadfast, joyfully, and he described his ravine, which was of course known to the Elmwoodneighbours, but very seldom visited by them, never except in themiddle of the day, and where the thicket and the caverns afforded everyfacility for concealment. Whitsun Day was coming, and Dr. Eales proposed to come over to the glenand celebrate the Holy Feast in the very early morning before anyone wasastir. There were a few of his Bristol flock who would be thankful forthe opportunity of meeting more safely than they could do in the city, since at Easter they had as nearly as possible been all arrested in apavilion in Mr. Rivett's garden which they had thought unsuspected. There would be one market day first, and on that Stead would come andexplain his preparations, and hear what the Doctor had arranged. Andso it was. The time was to be three o'clock, the very dawn of the longsummer day, the time when sleep is deepest. Dr. Eales and Mrs. Lightfootwould come out the night before, he not returning after his lesson tothe Rivetts, and she making some excuse about going to see friends forthe Sunday. The Rivetts, living outside the gates where sentries still kept guard, could start in the morning, and so could the four others who were toform part of the congregation. Goody Grace was the only person near homewhom Patience wished to invite, for she too had grieved over the greatdeprivation, and had too much heart for the Church to be satisfied withMr. Woodley's ministrations. Perhaps even she did not understand thedifference, but she could be trusted, and the young people knew howhappy it would make her. Little can we guess what such an opportunity was to the faithfulchildren of the Church in those sad days. Goody Grace folded her handsand murmured, "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, " whenPatience told her of the invitation, and Patience, though she had allher ordinary work to do, went quietly about it, as if she had some greatthought of peace and awe upon her. "Why, Patience, you seem as if you were making ready for some guest, thePrince of Wales at least!" said Emlyn, on Saturday night. Patience smiled a sweet little happy smile and in her heart she said"And so I am, and for a greater far!" but she did say "Yes, Emlyn, Dr. Eales is coming to sleep here to-night, and he will pray with us in theearly morning. " It had been agreed that the Celebration should take place first, andthen after a short pause, the Morning Service. Jerusha was eleven yearsold, and a very good girl, and since Confirmation was impossible, herbrother and sister would have asked for her admission to the Holy Feastwithout it, but she could not be called up without the danger of awakingEmlyn; and Patience was so sure that it was not safe to trust thatdamsel with the full knowledge of the treasure that, though Steadfastalways thought his sister hard on her, he was forced to give way. Thechildren were to be admitted to Matins, for if any idea oozed out thatthis latter service had been held, no great danger was likely to comeof it. Dr. Eales arrived in the evening, Steadfast meeting him to actas guide, and Patience set before him of her best. A fowl, which she hadbeen forced to broil for want of other means of dressing it; bread bakedin a tin with a fire of leaves and small sticks heaped over it; roastedeggs, excellent butter and milk. She apologised for not having daredto fetch any ale for fear of exciting suspicion, but the doctor set herquite at ease by his manifest enjoyment of her little feast, declaringthat he had not made so good a meal since Bristol was taken. Then he catechised the children. Little Ben could say the Lord's Prayer, the Belief, and some of the shorter Commandments, and the doctor pattedhis little round white cap, and gave him two Turkey figs as a reward. Jerusha, when she got over her desperate fright enough to speak above awhisper, was quite perfect from her name down to "charity with all men, "but Emlyn stumbled horribly over even the first answers, and utterlybroke down in the Fourth Commandment; but she smiled up in the doctor'sface in her pretty way, and blushed as she said "The chaplain atBlythedale had taught us so far, your reverence. " "And have you learnt no further?" "If you were here to teach me, sir, I would soon learn it, " said thelittle witch, but she did not come over him as she did with most people. "You have as good an instructor as I for your needs, in this discreetmaiden, " said Dr. Eales, and as something of a pout descended onthe sparkling little face, "when you know all the answers, perchanceSteadfast here may bring you to my lodgings and I will hear you. " "I could learn them myself if I had the book, " said Emlyn. The fact being that the Catechism was taught by Patience from memoryin those winter evenings when all went to bed to save candle light, butthat when Steadfast retired to the cow-house, Emlyn either insistedon playing with the others or pretended to go to sleep; and twittedPatience with being a Puritan. However, the hopes of going into Bristolmight be an incentive, though she indulged in a grumble to Rusha, anddeclared that she liked a jolly chaplain, and this old doctor was not abit better than a mere Puritan. Rusha opened her big eyes. She never did understand Emlyn, and perhapsthat young maiden took delight in shocking her. They were ordered off tobed much sooner than they approved on that fair summer night, when thehalf-moon was high and the nightingales were singing all round--not thatthey cared for that, but there was a sense about them that somethingmysterious was going on, and Emlyn was wild with curiosity and vexationat being kept out of it. She would have kept watch and crept out; but that Patience came in, andlay down, so close to the door that it was impossible to get out withoutwaking her, and besides if Emlyn did but stir, she asked what was thematter. "They mean something!" said Emlyn to herself, "and I'll know what itis. They have no right to keep me out of the plot; I am not likestupid little Rusha! I have been in a siege, and four battles, besidesskirmishes! I'll watch till they think I'm asleep, if I pull all thehulls out of my bed! Then they will begin. " But nothing moved that Emlyn could hear or see. She woke and slept, butwas quite aware when Patience rose up after a brief doze, and found thefirst streaks of dawn in the sky, a cuckoo calling as if for very lifein the nearest tree, and Steadfast quietly sweeping the dew from thegrass in a little open space shut in by rocks, trees, and bushes, closeto the bank of the brook. A chest which he kept in the cow-shed, and which bore traces of the firein the old house, had been brought down to serve as an Altar, and it waslaid over, for want of anything better, with one of poor Mrs. Kenton'sbest table-cloths, which Patience had always thought too good for use. The next thing was to meet the rest of the scanty congregation at theentrances of the wood, and guide them to the spot. This was safely done, Goody Grace knew the way, and had guided one of the old Elmwood maidservants whom she had managed to shelter for the night. Mrs. Lightfootwas there with Mrs. Rivett, her daughter, elder son, and a grave-lookingman servant, Mr. Henshaw, a Barbados merchant, with his wife, and a veryworn battered shabby personage, but unmistakably a gentleman of quality, and wounded in the wars, for he was so lame that the merchant had tohelp him over the rough paths. It was a wonderful Whitsun-day morning that none of the little partycould ever forget. The sunrise could not be seen in that deep, narrowplace, but the sky was of a strange pale shining blue, and the tenderyoung green of the trees overhead was touched with gold, the gladesof the wood were intensely blue with hyacinths, and with all sorts ofdelicate greens twined above in the bushes over them. A wild cherry, allsilver white, was behind their Altar, the green floor was marbled withcuckoo flowers and buttercups, and the clear little stream whose voicemurmured by was fringed with kingcups and forget-me-nots. The scentswere of the most delicious dewy freshness; and as to the sounds! Larkssang high up in the sky, wood pigeons cooed around, nightingales, thrushes, every bird of the wood seemed to be trying to make music andmelody. And in the midst the grey-haired priest stood close to an ivy-coveredrock, with the white covered Altar, and the bright golden vessels whichhe had carefully looked to in the night, and the little congregationknelt close round him on cloaks and mats, the women hooded, the oldCavalier's long thin locks, the merchant's dark ones, and the closecropped heads of the servant and of Steadfast bared to the morningbreeze in its pure, dewy, soft freshness, fit emblem of the Comforter. No book was produced, all was repeated from memory. They durst not raisetheir voices, but the birds were their choir, and as they murmuredtheir _Gloria in Excelsis_, the sweet notes rang out in that unconsciouspraise. When the blessing of peace had been given there was a long hush, and noone rose till after the vessels had been replaced in their casket, andStead was climbing up with it again to the hiding place. Then therewas a move to the front of the hut, where Rusha was just awakening, andEmlyn feigned to be still asleep. It was not yet four o'clock, but thesweet freshness was still around everything. Young Mistress Alice Rivettand her brother were enchanted to gather flowers, and ran after theirhosts to see the cows milked, and the goats, pigs, and poultry fed, sights new to them; but the elder ladies shivered and were glad to warmthemselves at the little fire Patience hastily lighted, after cleaningthe hut as fast as she could, by rolling up the bedding, and fairlycarrying Ben out to finish his night's rest in the cow-house. The guests had brought their provisions, and insisted that their younghosts should eat with them, accepting only the warm milk that Patiencebrought in her pail, and they drank from the horn cups of the family. Dr. Eales observed to the Cavalier that it was a true _Agape_ orlove-feast like those of the ancient Church, and the gentleman'smelancholy, weather-beaten face relaxed into a smile as he sighed andhoped that the same endurance as that of the Christians of old would begranted in this time of persecution. Emlyn was gratified at being a good deal noticed by the company as sounlike the others. She was not shy and frightened like Rusha, who hungher head and had not a word to say for herself, but chattered away tothe young Rivetts, showing them the kid, the calves, and the lambs, taking Mistress Alice to the biggest cowslips and earliest wild roses, and herself making a sweet posy for each of the ladies. The old Cavalierhimself, Colonel Harford, was even amused with the pretty little maid, who, he told Dr. Eales, resembled Mirth as Master John Milton haddepicted her, ere he took up with General Cromwell and his crew; and wasa becoming figure for this early morn. On learning the child's history, he turned out to know Sir HarryBlythedale, but not to have heard of him since they had parted atNewark, he to guard the king to Oxford, Sir Harry to join Lord Astley, and he much feared that the old knight had been killed at Stowe, in thefight between Astley and Brereton. This would account for nothing havingbeen heard from him about Emlyn, but Colonel Harford promised, if anyopportunity should offer, to communicate with Lady Blythedale, whom hebelieved to be living at Worcester; and he patted Emlyn on the head, called her a little loyal veteran, accepted a tiny posy of forget-me-notfrom her, and after fumbling in his pocket, gave her a crown piece. Steadfast and Patience were afraid it was his last, and much wishedshe had contrived not to take it, but she said she should keep it for aremembrance. After this rest, the beautiful Whitsuntide Matins was said in the fairforest church, and before six o'clock this strange and blessed festivalhad ended, though not the peace and thankfulness in the hearts of thelittle flock. Indeed, instead of a sermon, Dr. Eales's parting words were "And he wentin the strength of that meat forty days and forty nights. " CHAPTER XVI. A FAIR OFFER. "We be content, " the keepers said, "We three and you no less, Then why should we of you be afraid, As we never did transgress. " ROBIN HOOD BALLAD. Steadfast was busy weeding the little patch of barley that lay near theruins of the old farm house with little Ben basking round him. The greatcarefulness as to keeping the ground clear had been taught him by hisfather, and was one reason why his fields, though so small, did notoften bear a bad crop. He heard his name called over the hedge, andlooking up saw the Squire, Mr. Elmwood, on horseback. He came up, respectfully taking off his hat and standing with it in hishand as was then the custom when thus spoken to. "What is this I hear, Kenton, " said the squire, "that you have been having a prelatist serviceon your ground?" Steadfast was dismayed, but did not speak, till Mr. Elmwood added, "Isit true?" "Yes, sir, " he answered resolutely. "Did you know it was against the law to use the Book of Common Prayer?" "There was no book, sir. " "But you do not deny it was the same superstitious and Popish ceremonyand festival abolished by law. " "No, sir, " Stead allowed, though rather by gesture than word. "Now, look you here, young Kenton, I ask no questions. I do not wantto bring anyone into trouble, and you are a hard-working, honest ladby what they tell me, who have a brother fighting in the good Causeand have suffered from the lawless malignants yourself. Was it notthe Prince's troopers that wrought this ruin?" pointing towards theblackened gable, "and shot down your father? Aye! The more shame youshould hold with them! I wish you no harm I say, nor the blinded folkwho must have abused your simplicity: but I am a justice of the peace, and I will not have laws broken on my land. If this thing should happenagain, I shall remember that you have no regular or lawful tenure ofthis holding, and put you forth from it. " He waited, but a threat always made silent resistance easy to Steadfast, and there was no answer. Mr. Elmwood, however, let that pass, for he was not a hard or afanatical man, and he knew that to hold such a service was not such aneasy matter that it was likely to be soon repeated. He looked round atthe well-mended fences, the clean ground, and the tokens of intelligentindustry around, and the clean homespun shirt sleeves that spoke of thenotable manager at home. "You are an industrious fellow, my good lad, "he said, "how long have you had this farm to yourself?" "Getting on for five years, your honour, " said Steadfast. "And is that your brother?" "Yes, please your honour, " picking Ben up in his arms to prevent thebarley from being pulled up by way of helping him. "How many of you are there?" "Five of us, sir, but my eldest brother is in Captain Venn's troop. " "So I heard, and what is this about a child besides?" "An orphan, sir, I found after the skirmish at the mill stream, who wasleft with us till her friends can send after her. " "Well, well. You seem a worthy youth, " said Mr. Elmwood, who wascertainly struck and touched by the silent uncomplaining resolutionof the mere stripling who had borne so heavy a burthen. "If you wereheartily one of us, I should be glad to make you woodward, instead ofold Tomkins, and build up yonder house for you, but I cannot do it forone who is hankering after prelacy, and might use the place for I knownot what plots and conspiracies of the malignants. " Again Steadfast took refuge in a little bow of acknowledgment, but kepthis lips shut, till again the squire demanded, "What do you think of it?There's a fair offer. What have you to say for yourself?" He had collected himself and answered, "I thank you, sir. You are verygood. If you made me woodward, I would serve your honour faithfully, andhave no plots or the like there. But, your honour, I was bred up in theChurch and I cannot sell myself. " "Why, you foolish, self-conceited boy, what do you know about it? Is notwhat is good enough for better men than you fit to please you?" To this Stead again made no answer, having said a great deal for him. "Well, " said Mr. Elmwood, angered at last, "if ever I saw a doggedmoon-calf, you are one! However, I let you go scot free this time, inregard for your brother's good service, and the long family on yourhands, but mind, I shall put in an active woodward instead of oldTomkins, who has been past his work these ten years, and if ever I hearof seditious or prelatical doings in yonder gulley again, off you go. " He rode off, leaving Steadfast with temper more determined, but mindnot more at ease. The appointment of a woodward was bad news, for thecopsewood and the game had been left to their fate for the last fewyears, and what were the rights of the landlord over them Stead did notknow, so that there might be many causes of trouble, especially if thesaid woodward considered him a person to be specially watched. Indeed, the existence of such a person would make a renewal of what Mr. Elmwoodcalled the prelatist assembly impossible, and with a good deal of sorrowhe announced the fact on the next market day to Mrs. Lightfoot. He couldnot see Dr. Eales, but when next he came in, she gave him a paper onwhich was simply marked "Ps. Xxxvii, 7. " He looked out the reference andfound "Hold thee still in the Lord and abide patiently upon Him. " Steadhoped that Patience and the rest would never know what an offer had beenmade to him, but Master Brown, who had recommended him, and who did notat all like the prospect of a strange woodward, came to expostulate withhim for throwing away such a chance for a mere whim, telling Patienceshe was a sensible wench and ought to persuade her brother to see whatwas for his own good and the good of all, holding up himself as anexample. "I never missed my church and had the parson's good word all along, and yet you see I am ready to put up with this good man without settingmyself up to know more than my elders and betters! Eh! Hast not aword to say for thyself? Then I'll tell the squire, who is a good andfriendly gentleman to all the old servants, that you have thought betterof it, and will thankfully take his kindness, and do your best. " "I cannot go against father, " said Steadfast. "And what would he have done, good man, but obey them that have therule, and let wiser folk think for thee. But all the young ones arepig-headed as mules now-a-days, and must think for themselves, onerunning off to the Independents, and one to the Quakers and Shakers, andone to the Fifth Monarchy men, and you, Steadfast Kenton, that I thoughtbetter things of, talking of the Church and offending the squire withthy prelatic doings, that have been forbidden by Act of Parliament. What say you to that, my lad? Come, out with it, " for Stead had moredifficulty in answering Master Brown, who had been a great authoritythroughout his life, than even the Squire himself. "Parson said there was higher law than Parliament. " "Eh! What, the King? He is a prisoner, bless him, but they will neverlet him go till they have bent him to their will, and what will you dothen?" "Not the King, " muttered Steadfast. "Eh! what! If you have come to pretending to know the law of God betterthan your elders, you are like the rest of them, and I have done withyou. " And away tramped the steward in great displeasure, while Patienceput her apron over her head and cried bitterly. She supposed Stead might be right, but what would it not have been tohave the old house built up, and all decent about them as it was inmother's time, and fit places to sleep in, now that the wenches weregrowing bigger? "But you know, Patty, we are saving for that. " "Aye, and how long will it take? And now this pestilent woodward will bealways finding fault--killing the fowls and ducks, and seizing the swineand sheep, and very like slaughtering the dogs and getting us turned outof house and home; for now you have offended the squire, he will believeanything against us. " "Come, Patty, you know I could not help it. This is sorest of all, youthat have always stood by me and father's wish. " "Yes, yes, " sobbed Patience. "I wot you are right, Stead. I'll hold toyou, though I wish--I wish you would think like other folk. " Yet Patience knew in her secret soul that then he would not be her ownSteadfast, and she persuaded him no more, though the discomforts anddeficiencies of their present home tried her more and more as the familygrew older. Stead had contrived a lean-to, with timbers from the oldhouse, and wattled sides stuffed with moss, where he and little Benslept in summer time, and they had bought or made some furniture--achair and table, some stools, bedding, and kitchen utensils, and shetoiled to keep things clean, but still it was a mere hovel, with thedoor opening out into the glade. Foxes and polecats prowled, owlshooted, and the big dog outside was a needful defender, even in summertime, and in winter the cold was piteous, the wet even worse, and theyoften lost some of their precious animals--chickens died of cold, and once three lambs had been carried away in a sudden freshet. YetPatience, when she saw Steadfast convinced, made up her mind to stand byhim, and defended him when the younger girls murmured. Rusha was of a quiet, acquiescent, contented nature, and said little, asEmlyn declared, "She knew nothing better;" but Emlyn was more and moreweary of the gulley, and as nothing was heard of her friends, and shewas completely one of the home, she struggled more with the dullnessand loneliness. She undertook all errands to the village for the sake ofsuch change as a chatter with the young folk there afforded her, or forthe chance of seeing the squire's lady or sons and daughters go by; andshe was wild to go on market days to Bristol. [Illustration: Emlyn at the Market] In spite of Puritan greyness, soldiers, sailors, gentlemen, ladies, andeven fashions, such as they were, could be seen there, and news pickedup, and Emlyn would fain have persuaded Steadfast that she should bethe most perfect market woman, if he would only let her ride in on thedonkey between the panniers, in a broad hat, with chickens and ducksdangling round, eggs, butter, and fruit or nuts, and even posies, according to the season, and sit on the steps of the market-place amongthe other market women and girls. Steadfast would have been the last to declare that her laughing darkeyes, and smiling lips, and arch countenance would not bring many acustomer, but he knew well that his mother would never have sent hissister to be thus exposed, and he let her pout, or laughed away herrefusal by telling her that he was bound not to let a butler's daughterdemean herself to be stared at by all the common folk, who would cheapenher wares. And when she did coax him to take her to Bristol on any errand shecould invent, to sell her yarns, or buy pins, or even a ribbon, he wasinexorable in leaving her under Mrs. Lightfoot's care, and she had tosubmit, even though it sometimes involved saying her catechism to Dr. Eales. Yet that always ended in the old man's petting her. It was onlyfrom her chatter that the old clergyman ever knew of the proposal thatStead had rejected for conscience's sake. It vexed the lad so much thathe really could not bear to think of it, and it would come over him nowand then, was it all for nothing? Would the Church ever lift up her headagain? or would Mr. Woodley be always in possession at Elmwood Church, where everyone seemed to be content with him. The Kentons went thither. It was hardly safe to abstain, for a fine upon absence was still thelaw of the land, though seldom enforced; and Dr. Eales who consideredPresbyterianism by far the least unorthodox and most justifiable sect, had advised Stead not to allow himself or the others altogether to losethe habit of public worship, but to abstain from Communions which mightbe an act of separation from the Church, and which could not be acceptedby her children as genuine. Such was the advice of most of the divinesof the English Church in this time of eclipse; and though Stead, andstill less Patience, did not altogether follow the reasoning, theyobeyed, while aware that they incurred suspicion from the squire by notcoming to "the table. " The new woodward, Peter Pierce, was not one of the villagers as usual, but had been a soldier in one of the regiments of the Earl of Essex, inwhich Mr. Elmwood's eldest son had served. Instead of succeeding to old Tomkins's lodge in the great wood, he hada new one built for him, so as to command the opening of Hermit's Gulleytowards the village, and one of the Bristol roads. Could this be for thesake of watching over anything so insignificant as the Kentons? The copse on their side of the brook was their own, free to do what theychose with except cutting down the timber trees, but the further sidewas the landlord's, as they had now to remember; and as, when the brookwas at its lowest, their pigs and goats were by no means likely torecollect; though Steadfast was extremely anxious to give no occasionfor the mistrust and ill-will with which Pierce regarded him, as asquatter, trespasser, and poacher, almost as a matter of course, andlikewise a prelatist and plotter. Once he did find a kid on the wrong side, standing on a rock, browsinga honeysuckle, and was about either to seize it or shoot it, as it wentoff in three bounds, when Emlyn darted out, and threw herself between. It was her darling kid, it should never trespass again, she would--shewould thank him ever more--if he would spare it this once. And Emlyn as usual had touched the soft place in the heart of even awoodward. He told her not to cry, and contented himself with growling atremendous warning to Steadfast and Patience. There were several breezes about Growler, who was only too apt to usehis liberty in pursuing rabbits on the wrong side, and whom Peter morethan once condemned; but Emlyn and Ben begged him off, and he was keptwell chained up. At last, however, he won even the woodward's favour bythe slaughter of a terrible wild cat and her brood, after all Peter'sdogs had returned with bleeding faces from the combat. The woodward had another soft place in his heart. He had a pretty youngwife and a little son. Nanny Pierce was older in years, but far morechildish than Patience, and the life in this gulley seemed to her uttersolitude and desolation, and if Patience had been ten times a poacherand a prelatist, she could not have helped making friends with the onlycreature of her own kind within a mile. And when Patience's experiencewith Ben and other older babes at rest in the churchyard, had aided thepoor little helpless woman through a convulsion fit of her baby's beforeGoody Grace could arrive, Peter himself owned that "the Kenton wenchwas good for somewhat, " though he continued to think Steadfast's greatcarefulness not to transgress, only a further proof that "he was a deepone"--all the more because he refused to let anyone but himself have asearch for a vanished polecat in "them holes, " which Peter was persuadedcontained some mystery, though Steadfast laid it, and not untruly, onthe health of the young stock he kept penned in the caves, which wereall, he hoped, of which Peter was aware. All this was harassing, but a greater trouble came in the second winter. Good Dr. Eales was failing, and the tidings of the King's execution werea blow that he never recovered. Mrs. Lightfoot had tears in her eyeswhen Stead asked after him, week by week, and she could only say that hewas feebler, and spent all his days in prayer--often with tears. At last came peace. He lay still and calm, and sent a message that youngKenton should be brought to him for a last farewell. And as Stead stood sorrowful and awed by his bed side, he bade theyouth never despair or fall away from his hope of the restoration of theChurch. "Remember, " he said, "she is founded on a rock, and the gates of hellshall never prevail against her. She shall stand forth for evermore asthe moon, which wanes but to wax again; and I have good hope that thouwilt see it, my son. He that shall endure unto the end, the same shallbe saved. " Then Dr. Eales pointed to a small parcel of books, which he had causedMrs. Lightfoot to put together, telling Steadfast that he had selectedthem alike for devotion and for edification, and that if he studiedthem, he would have no doubt when he might deliver up his trust to atrue priest of the Church. "And if none should return in my time?" asked Steadfast. "Have I not told thee never to despair of God's care for His Church? YetHis time is not as our time, and it may be--that young as thou art--thedays of renewal may not be when thou shalt see them. Should it thus be, my son, leave the secret with one whom thou canst securely trust. Betterthe sacred vessels should lie hidden than that thou shouldst show thyfaith wanting by surrendering them to any, save according to the termsof thy vow. See, Steadfast, among these books is a lighter one, aromance of King Arthur, that I loved well in my boyhood, and which maynot only serve thee as fair pastime in the winter nights, but will mindthee of thine high and holy charge, for it goeth deeper than the mereoutside. " His voice was growing weak. Mrs. Lightfoot gave him a cordial, and Steadknelt by his bedside, felt his hand on his head, and heard his blessingfor the last time. The next market day, when he called at the goodbakester's stall, she told him in floods of tears that the guest who hadbrought a blessing on her house, was gone to his rest. CHAPTER XVII. THE GROOM IN GREY. "Heroes and kings, in exile forced to roam, Leave swelling phrase and seven-leagued words at home. " SCOTT. Another summer and winter had gone by and harvest time had come again, when Steadfast with little Ben, now seven years old, for company, tooktwo sacks of corn to be ground at the mill, where the skirmish had beenfought in which Emlyn's father had been killed. The sacks were laid across a packsaddle on a stout white horse, withwhich, by diligent saving, Steadfast had contrived to replace Whitefoot, Ben was promised a ride home when the sacks should have been emptied, and trotted along in company with Growler by his brother's side, talking more in an hour than Stead did in a week, and looking with greatinterest to be shown the hawthorn bush where Emlyn had been found. For Stead and Ben were alike in feeling the bright, merry, capricious, laughing, teasing Emlyn the charm and delight of home. In trouble, orfor real aid, they went to Patience, but who was like Emlyn for drolleryand diversion? Who ever made Stead laugh as she could, or who so playedwith Ben, and never, like Rusha, tried to be maidenly, discreet, nay, dull? It was very inconvenient that just as they reached the famous thornbush, the white horse began to demonstrate that his shoe was loose. Theywere very near the mill, and after disposing of the sacks, the brothersled the horse on to a forge, about a furlong beyond. It was not a placeof which Stead was fond, as the smith was known to be strong for theCovenant, and he could not help wishing that the shoe had come offnearer to his good friend Smith Blane. Original-Sin Hopkins, which was the name of the blacksmith, was in greatexcitement, as he talked of the crowning mercy vouchsafed at Worcester, and how the son of the late man, Charles Stewart, had been utterlydefeated, and his people scattered like sheep without a shepherd. Threeor four neighbours were standing about, listening to the tidings he hadheard from a messenger on the way to Bristol. One was leaning on theunglazed window frame, and a couple of old men basking, even in thatSeptember day, in the glow of the fire, while a few women and childrenloitered around, thinking it rather fine to hear Master Original-Sindeclaim on the backsliding of the Scots in upholding the son of theoppressor. The shoeing of Stead Kenton's horse seemed a trivial matter beneath theattention of such an orator; but he vouchsafed to bid his lad drive in afew nails; and just as the task was commenced, there came to the forgea lady in a camlet riding dress and black silk hood, walking besidea stout horse, which a groom was leading with great care, for it hadevidently lost a shoe. And it had a saddle with a pillion on which theyhad been riding double, after the usual fashion of travelling for youngand healthy gentlewomen in those days of bad roads. The lady, a quiet, self-possessed person, not in her first youth, cameforward, and in the first pause in the blacksmith's declamation, beggedthat he would attend to her horse. He gave a nod as if intending her to wait till Steadfast's work wasdone, and went on. "And has it not been already brought about that theman of blood hath--" "So please you, " interrupted the lady, "to shoe my horse at once. Iam on my way to Abbotsleigh, and my cousin, Mr. Norton, knows that mybusiness brooks no delay. " Mr. Norton, though a Royalist, was still the chief personage in thatneighbourhood, and his name produced sufficient effect on Original-Sinto make him come forward, look at the hoof, and select a shoe from thosehung on the walls of his forge. Little Ben looked on, highly delightedto watch the proceedings, and Steadfast, as he waited, glanced towardsthe servant, a well-made young man, in a trim, sober suit of grey cloth, with a hat a good deal slouched over a dark swarthy face, that struckStead as having been seen by him before. After all, the lady's horse was the first finished. Hopkins looked atall the other three shoes, tapped them with his hammer, and foundthem secure, received the money from the lady, but gave very slightsalutations as the pair remounted, and rode away. Then he twisted up his features and observed, "Here is a dispensation!As I am a living soul, this horse shoe was made at Worcester. I know themake. My cousin was apprenticed there. " "Well, outlandish work goes against one's stomach, " said one of thebystanders, "but what of that, man?" "Seest thou not, Jabez Holt? Is not the young man there one of them whotrouble Israel, and the lady is striving for his escape. Mr. Norton iswell known as a malignant at heart, and his man Pope hath been to andfro these last days as though evil were being concerted. I would thatgood Master Hatcham were here. " "Poor lad. Let him alone. 'Tis hard he should not get off, " said one ofthe bystanders. "I tell thee he is one of the brood of Satan, who have endeavoured tobreak up the godly peace of the saints, and fill this goodly land withblood and fire. Is it not said 'Root them out that they be no more apeople?'" "Have after them, then, " said another of the company. "We want no morewars, to be taking our cows and killing our pigs. After them, I say!" "You haven't got no warrant, 'Riginal, " said a more cautious old man. "Best be on the safe side. Go after constable first, and raise thehue-and-cry. You'll easy overtake them. Breakneck Hill be sore forhorseflesh. " "I'd fain see Master Hatcham, " said the smith, scratching his head. Stead had meantime been listening as he paid his pence. It flashed overhim now where he had beheld those intensely dark eyes, and the verypeculiar cut of features, though they had then been much more boyish. It was when he had seen the Prince of Wales going to the Cathedral onChristmas Day, in the midst of all his plumed generals, with their gayscarfs, and rich lace collars. He had put little Ben on horseback, and turned away into the long, dirty lane, or rather ditch, that led homeward, before, through hisconsternation, there dawned on him what to do. A gap in the hedge laynear, through which he dragged the horse into a pasture field, to thegreat amazement of Ben, saying "See here, Ben, those folk want to takeyonder groom in grey. We will go and warn them. " Ben heartily assented. "I like the groom, " he said. "He jumped me five times off thehorseblock, and he patted Growler and called him a fine fellow, whodidn't deserve his name--worth his salt he was sure. We won't giveGrowler salt, Stead, but don't let that ugly preaching man get the goodgroom!" Steadfast was by this time on the horse behind his little brother, pressing through the fields, which by ancient custom were all thrownopen from harvest time till Christmas; and coming out into the open bitof common that the travellers had to pass before arriving at BreakneckHill, he was just in time to meet them as they trotted on. He hardlyknew what he said, as he doffed his hat, and exclaimed-- "Madam, you are pursued. " "Pursued!" Both at once looked back. "There's time, " said Steadfast; "but Smith Hopkins said one of the shoeswas Worcester make, and he is gone to fetch the constable and raise thehue-and-cry. " "And you are a loyal--I mean an honest lad--come to warn us, " said thegroom. "Yes, sir. I think, if you will trust me, they can be put off thetrack. " "Trusty! Your face answers for you. Eh, fair Mistress Jane?" "Sir, it must be as you will. " "This way then, sir, " said Steadfast, who was off his own horse by thistime, and leading it into a rough track through a thicket whence sometimber had been drawn out in the summer. "They will see where we turned off, " whispered the lady. "No, ma'am, not unless you get off the hard ground. Besides they will goon the way to Breakneck Hill. Hark! I hear a hallooing. Not near--no--nofear, madam. " They were by this time actually hidden from the common by the copsewood, and the distant shouts of the hue-and-cry kept all silent till they werefairly out beyond it, not far from Stead's own fields. Happily they had hitherto met no one, but there was danger now ofencountering gleaners, and indeed Stead's white horse could be seen froma distance, and might attract attention to his companions. "Hallo!" exclaimed the groom, as they halted under shelter of a pollardwillow. "I've heard tell that a white horse is the surest mark for abullet in a battle, and if that be Breakneck Hill, as you call it, yourbeast may bring the sapient smith down on us. Had we not best part?" "Aye, " said Steadfast. "I was thinking what was best. Whither were yougoing?" He blurted it out, not knowing to whom to address himself, or how toframe his speech. The lady hesitated, but her companion named CastleCarey. "Then, please your honour, " said Stead, impartially addressing both, "methinks the best course would be, if this--" "Groom William, " suggested that personage. "Would go down into yonder covert with my little brother here, where mypoor place is, and where my sister can show a safe hiding-place, in caseMaster Hopkins suspects me, and follows; but I scarce think he will. Then meanwhile, if the lady will trust herself to me--" "O! there is no danger for me, " she said. "Go on, my Somerset Solomon, " said the groom. "Then would I take the lady on for a short space to a good woman inElmwood there. And on the way this horse shall lose his Worcester shoe, and I will get Smith Blane, who is an honest fellow, to put on another;and when the chase is like to be over, I will come back for him and putyou on the cross lane for Castle Carey, which don't join with the roadyou came by, till just ere you get into the town. " "There's wit as well as cheese in Somerset. What say you, my guardianangel?" said Groom William. "It sounds well, " she reluctantly answered. "Does Mr. Norton know you, young man?" "No, madam, " said Stead, with much stumbling. "But I have seen him inBristol. My Lady Elmwood knew of me, and Sir George Elmwood too, and theDean could say I was honest. " "Which the face of you says better than your tongue, " said the groom. "Have with you then, my bold little elf, " he added, taking the bridle ofthe horse on which Ben was still seated. "Or one moment more. You knewme, my lad--are there any others like to do so?" "I had seen you, sir, at Bristol, and that is why I would not have youshew yourself in Elmwood. But my sister has never seen you, and the onlyneighbours who ever come in are the woodward and his wife. He served inmy Lord of Essex's army, but he has never seen you. Moreover, he was tobe at the squire's to-day helping to stack his corn. Ben, do you tellPatience that _he_"--again taking refuge in a pronoun--"is a gentlemanin danger, and she must see to his safety for an hour or two till I comeback for him. " "A gentleman in danger, " repeated Ben, anxious to learn his lesson. "He and I will take care of that, " said the grey-coated groom gaily, ashe turned the horse's head, and waved his hat in courtly fashion to thelady so that Steadfast saw that his hair was cropped into black stubble. "Ah!" said the lady with a sigh, for the loss of a Cavalier's locks wasa dreadful thing. "You know him then. " "I have seen him at Bristol, " said Steadfast, with considerably lessembarrassment, though still in the clownish way he could not shake off. "And you know how great is the trust you--nay, we have undertaken. But, as he says, he has learnt the true fidelity of a leathern jerkin. " Then Jane Lane told Steadfast of the King's flight from Worcester, andadventures at Boscobel with the Penderells, and how she had brought himto Abbotsleigh, in hopes of finding a ship at Bristol, but that failing, it was too perilous for him to remain there, so that she was helping himas far as Castle Carey on his way to Trent. Before they were clear of the wood, Stead asked her to pause. He knockedoff the tell-tale shoe with the help of a stone, threw it away into themiddle of a bramble, and then after a little consultation, she decidedon herself encountering the smith, not perhaps having much confidence inthe readiness of speech or invention of her companion. When they arrived at the forge, where good-humoured, brawny Harry Blanewas no small contrast to his gaunt compeer Original-Sin Hopkins, sheaverred that she was travelling from her relations, and having beenobliged to send her servant back for a packet that had been forgotten, this good youth, who had come to her help when her horse had cast ashoe, had undertaken to guide her to the smith's, and to take heragain to meet her man, if he did not come for her himself. Might she beallowed in the meantime to sit with Master Blane's good housewife? Master Blane was only too happy, and Mistress Jane Lane was accordinglyintroduced to the pleasant kitchen, with sanded floor, and bigoak table, open hearth, and beaupots in the oriel window where thespinning-wheel stood, and where the neat and hospitable Dame Blane madeher kindly welcome. Steadfast, marvelling at her facility of speech, and glad the king'ssafety did not depend on his uttering such a story, told Blane that hemust go after his cattle and should look after the groom on the way. As he walked through the wood, and drew near the glade, he was dismayedto hear voices, and to see Peter Pierce leaning against the wall of thehouse, but Rusha came running up to him exclaiming, "Oh! Stead, here isthis good stranger that you met, telling us all about brother Jeph. " "Yes, my kind host, " said the grey-coated guest, with a slight nasalintonation, rising as Stead came near, "I find that you are the very ladmy friend and brother Jephthah Kenton, that singular Christian man, bademe search out. 'If you go near Bristol, beloved, ' quoth he, ' searchme out my brothers Steadfast and Benoni, and my sisters, Patience andJerusha, and greet them well from me, and bear witness of me to them. They dwell, said he, in a lonely hut in the wood side, and with thema fair little maiden, sprung of the evil and idolatrous seed of themalignants, but whom their pious nurture may yet bring to a knowledge ofthe truth, ' and by that token, I knew that it was the same. " There wasan odd little twinkle towards Emlyn just then. "And Stead, Jeph is an officer, " said Patience, who was busied insetting before the visitor on a little round table, the best ale, bread, cheese, and butter that her hut afforded, together with an onion, which, he declared, was "what his good grandfather, a valiant man for thegodly, had ever loved best. " "An officer! Aye is he. A captain of his Ironside troop, very like to beColonel ere long. " Stead was absolutely bewildered, and could not find speech, beyond anawkward "Where?" "Where was he when I last saw him? Charging down the main street ofWorcester, where the malignants and Charles Stewart made their laststand. Smiting them hip and thigh with the sword of Gedaliah, nay, mytongue tripped, 'twas Gideon I would say. " "Aye, " said the woodward, "Squire had the tidings two days back in anews letter. It was a mighty victory of General Cromwell. " "In sooth it was, " returned the groom; "and I hear he hath ordered asolemn thanksgiving therefore. " "But Jephthah, " put in Patience, "you are sure he was not hurt?" "The hand of Heaven protecteth the godly, " again through his nose spokethe guest. "He was well when I left him; being sent south by my masterto attend my mistress, and so being no more among them that divide thespoil. " "Where have you served, sir?" demanded the woodward. "I am last from Scotland, " was the answer. "A godly land!" "Ah! I know nought of Scotland, " said the woodward. "I was disbandedwhen my Lord Essex gave up the command, more's the pity, for he was fordoing things soberly and reasonably, and ever in the name of the poorKing that is gone! You look too young to have seen fire at Edgehill orExeter, sir. " "Did I not?" said the youth. "Aye, I was with my father, though only asa boy apart on a hill. " The reminiscences that were exchanged astonished Steadfast beyondmeasure, and really made him doubt whether what had previously passedhad not been all a dream. The language was so like Jephthah's own too, all except that one word "fair" applied to Emlyn; and Patience, Rusha, and the Pierces were entirely without a suspicion, that their guest wasother than he seemed. How much must have been picked out of little Ben, without the child's knowing it, to make such acting possible? And how was the woodward, who was so much delighted with the visitor, tobe shaken off? Stead stood silent, puzzled, anxious, and wonderingwhat to do next, a very heavy and awkward host, so that even Patiencewondered what made him so shy. Suddenly, however, a whistle, and the sharp yap of a dog was heardacross the stream. Nanny Pierce exclaimed, "There are those rascal ladsafter the rabbits again!" and the gamekeeper's instinct awoke. Pierceshook hands with his fellow soldier, regretted he could not see more ofhim, and received his promise that if he came that way again, he wouldshare a pottle of ale at the lodge; and then tramped off after hispoachers over the stream. Groom William then kissed the young women (the usual mode of salutationthen), Nanny Pierce and all, thanked Patience, and looked about for thegoodly little malignant, as he called Emlyn, but she was nowhere to beseen, and Stead hurried him off through the wood. "Ho! ho! sly rascal, " said Charles, as they turned away. "You'rejealous! You would keep the game to yourself. " Stead had no answer to make to this banter, the very notion of Emlyn asaught but the orphan in his charge was new to him. They were not yet beyond the gulley when from between the hazel stems, out sprang Emlyn, and kneeling on the ground caught the King's hand andkissed it. "Fairy-haunted wood!" cried Charles, and indeed it was done with greatnatural grace, and the little figure with the glowing cheeks, her hoodflying back so as to shew her brilliant eyes sparkling with delight andenthusiasm, was a truly charming vision. "It is like one of the masquesof the merry days of old. " And as he retained her hand and returned thesalute on her lips, "Queen Mab herself, for who else saw through thypoor brother sovereign's mean disguise?" "I had seen your Majesty with the army, " replied Emlyn, modestlyblushing a good deal. "Ah! The Fates have provided me with a countenance the very worst forstraits like mine. But that matters the less since it is only my worthysubjects who see through the grey coat. I would lay my crown, if I hadit, to one of those crispy ringlets of yours, that Queen Mab was thepoacher who drew off the crop-eared keeper. " "'Tis Robin Goodfellow, please your Majesty, who leads clowns astray, "said Emlyn in the same tone. "Sometimes a horse I'll be, sometimes a hound, " quoted the King. Stead could only listen in amazement without a word to say for himself. Near the confines of the wood, he had to leave Emlyn to guide the Kingover a field-path while he fetched Mrs. Jane Lane and the horse to meetthem beyond, as it was wiser for the King not to shew himself in thevillage. Again Charles jested on his supposed jealousy of leaving thefair Queen Mab alone in such company, and on his blunt answer, "I onlyfeared the saucy child might be troublesome, sir. " At which the King laughed the more, and even Emlyn smiled a little. All was safely accomplished, and when Steadfast had brought Mrs. Lane tothe deep lane, they found the King and Emlyn standing by the stile, andcould hear the laughter of both as they approached. "He can always thus while away his cares, " said Jane Lane in quite amotherly tone. "And well it is that he is of so joyous a nature. " Perhaps it was said as a kind of excuse for the levity of one in so muchdanger chattering to the little woodland maid so mirthfully, and likeone on an equality. When they appeared, Charles bestowed a kiss onEmlyn's lips, and shook hands cordially with Steadfast, lamenting thathe had no reward, nor even a token to leave with them. Stead made his rustic bow, pinched his hat, and muttered, "It is enoughto--" "Enough reward to have served your Majesty, " said Emlyn, "he would say. " "Yea, and it is your business to find words for him, pretty one, " saidthe King. "A wholesome partnership--eh? He finds worth, and you findwit! And so we leave the fairy buried in the woodland. " And on the wanderers rode, while Steadfast and Emlyn turned back overthe path through the fields; and she eagerly told that the King hadslept at Blythedale on his way to Worcester, and that though Sir Harrywas dead, his son was living in Holland. "And if the King gets theresafely, he will tell Master George, and if my uncle is with him, nodoubt he will send for me, or mayhap, come and fetch me. " There was a shock of pain in Steadfast's heart. "You would be glad?" "Poor old Stead. I would scarce be glad to quit you. I doubt me if theHague, as they call it, would show me any one I should care for as muchas for your round shoulders, you good old lubber! But you should cometoo, and the King would give you high preferment, when he comes to hisown again, and then we won't be buried alive in this Hermit's Gulley. " She danced about in exultation, hardly knowing what wild nonsense shetalked, and Stead was obliged to check her sharply in an attempt to sing "The king shall enjoy his own again. " "But Stead, " asked Ben, after long reflection, "how could Groom Williamknow all about brother Jeph?" A question Stead would not hear, not wishing to destroy confidence inHis Majesty's veracity. CHAPTER XVIII. JEPH'S GOOD FORTUNE. "Still sun and rain made emerald green the loveliest fields on earth, And gave the type of deathless hope, the little shamrock, birth. " IRISH BALLAD. The King's visit left traces. Emlyn had become far more restless andconsciously impatient of the dullness and seclusion of the Hermit'sGulley. Not only did she, as before, avail herself of every pretext forgoing into the village, or for making expeditions to Bristol, but sheopenly declared the place a mere grave, intolerable to live in, and sheconfided to Jerusha that the King had declared that it was a shame tohide her there--such charms were meant for the world. The only way of getting into the world that occurred to her was goinginto service at Bristol, and she talked of this whenever she speciallyhated her spinning, or if Patience ventured to complain of her gaddingabout, gossipping with Nanny Pierce or Kitty Blane, or getting all theyoung lads in Elmwood round her, to be amused and teased by her livelyrattle. Patience began to be decidedly of opinion that it would be much betterfor all parties that the girl should be under a good mistress. Both sheand Rusha were over sixteen years old; and though it was much improved, the house was hardly fit for so many inhabitants, and both Goody Graceand Dame Blane had told Patience that it would be better, both forthe awkward Rusha and the gay Emlyn, if they could have some householdtraining. Mistress Elmwood, at the Hall, had noted the family at church, andobserved their perfect cleanliness and orderliness, and it was intimatedthat at the Ladyday hiring, she would take Rusha among her maidens. Shy Rusha cried a great deal, and wished Emlyn would go instead, butMrs. Elmwood would not have hired that flighty damsel on any account, and Emlyn was sure it would be but mopish work to live under a starchedold Puritan. Mrs. Lightfoot was therefore applied to, to find a servicefor Emlyn Gaythorn, and she presently discovered one Mistress Sloggett, a haberdasher's wife of wealth and consideration, who wanted a youngmaidservant. Emlyn was presented to her by the bakester, undertook for everything, and was hired by the twelvemonth, going off in high glee at the varietyand diversion she expected to enjoy at the sign of the "Sheep andShears, " though clinging with much tenderness to her friends as theyparted. "Remember, Emlyn, this is the home where you will always be welcome, "said Stead. "As if I wanted to _remember_ it, " said Emlyn, with her sweet smile. "Asif I did not know where be kind hearts. " The hovel seemed greatly deserted when the two young girls were gone. Patience sorely missed Rusha, her diligent little helper, and latterlyher companion too; and the lack of Emlyn's merry tongue made all aroundseem silent and tedious. Steadfast especially missed the girl. Perhapsit was due to the King's gibes that her absence fully opened to him thefact that he knew not how to do without her. After his usual fashion, he kept the discovery to himself, not even talking to Patience about it, being very shamefaced at the mere thought, which gave a delicious warmthto his heart, though it made him revolve schemes of saving up till hehad a sufficient sum, with which to go to the squire and propose to meethim half-way in rebuilding the old house; not such an expensive matteras it would be in these days. There, in full view of all that passeddown Elmwood Lane, Emlyn could not complain of solitude, he thought! Butthere was this difficulty in the way, that Jephthah had never resignedhis claims as eldest son, and might come home at any time, and takepossession of all the little farm at which Steadfast had worked forseven years. The war was over, and nothing had been heard of Jeph, except theking's apocryphal history, since his visit after the taking of Bristol. Patience had begun to call him "poor Jeph, " and thought he must havebeen killed, but Stead had ascertained that the army had not beendisbanded, and believed him still to be employed. At length, one market day, Mrs. Lightfoot told him, "There has beenone asking for you, Kenton, Seth Coleman, the loriner's son, that wentsoldiering when your brother did. He landed last week from Ireland witha wooden leg, and said he, 'Where shall I come to the speech of oneSteadfast Kenton? I have a greeting from his brother, the peculiarlyfavoured, ' or some such word, 'Jephthah Kenton, who told me I shouldhear tidings of him from Mrs. Bakester Lightfoot, at the sign of the"Wheatsheaf. "' I told him where you abode, and he said he knew as muchfrom your brother, but he could not be tramping out to Elmwood on awooden leg. So says I 'I will send Steadfast Kenton to you next marketday. ' You will find him at the sign at the 'Golden Bridle, ' by the WharfStairs. " Stead had no sooner disposed of his wares than he went in search ofthe loriner's shop, really one for horse furniture. There was a benchoutside, looking out on the wharf and shipping, and on it was seatedthe returned soldier, with a little party round him, to whom he wasexpounding what sounded more military than religious: "And so, the fort having been summoned and quarter promised, if so beno resistance were made, always excepting Popish priests, and--Eh! Whatnow? Be you an old neighbour? I don't remember your face. " "I have seen you, though. I am Jephthah Kenton's brother, that you askedfor. " "I mind you were but a stripling in those days, and yet in grossdarkness. Yea, I have a letter for thee from my comrade, who is come tohigh preferment. " "Jeph!" "Yea, things have prospered with him. He was a serjeant even before wesailed for Ireland, and there he did such good service in huntingout Popish priests and rebels in their lurking places in the bogs andmountains, that the Lord General hath granted him the land that hetook with his sword and his bow, even a meadow land fat and fertile, Ballyshea by name, full of the bulls of Bashan, goodly to look at. Andto make all sure, he hath taken to wife the daughter of the former ownerof the land a damsel fair to look upon. " "Jeph! But sure--the Irish are Papists. " "Not the whole of them. There are those that hold to Prelacy and callthemselves King's men, following the bloody and blinded Duke of Ormond. Of them was this maid's father, whom we slew at the taking of Clonmel, where I got this wound and left my good right leg. So is the race not tothe swift, nor the battle to the strong, but time and chance happenethto all. When I could hobble about once more on crutches, I found thatthe call had come to divide and possess the gate of the enemy, and thatthe meads of Ballyshea had fallen to Serjeant Kenton. Moreover, in thecastle hard by, dwelt the widow and her daughter, who cried to GeneralLambert for their land, and what doth he say to Jephthah, but 'Make itsure, Kenton. Take the maid to wife, and so none will disturb you in thefair heritage. ' Yea, and mine old comrade would have me sojourn with himtill I was quite restored, so far as a man with one limb short may be. Itell you 'tis a castle, man. " "Our Jeph lord of a castle?" "Aye, even so. Twice as big as Elmwood Hall, if half were not in ruins, and the other half the rats run over like peas out of a bag. While as tothe servants, there are dozens of them, mostly barefoot and in rags, whowill run at the least beck from the old mistress or the young mistress, though they scowl at the master. But he is taking order with them, andteaching them who is to be obeyed. " "Then our Jephthah is a great man?" "You may say that--a bigger man than the squire at Elmwood, or at LeighI can tell you. Only I would give all that bare mountain and bog, fullof wild, Popish, red-haired kernes for twenty yards in a tidy street atBristol, with decent godly folk around me. Murdering or being murdered, I have marvelled more than once whether the men of Israel were as sickof it in Canaan as I was at Drogheda, but the cry ever was, 'Be notslack in the work. ' But I will bring you Jephthah's letter. He could notwrite when he went off, but he could not be a serjeant without, so wetaught him--I and Corporal Faith-Wins. " Jephthah's handwriting was of a bold description doing honour to histutors, but the letter was very brief, though to the purpose-- "Dear Brothers and Sisters, "This is to do you, to wit, that by the grace of Heaven on my poorendeavours I am come to high preferment. A goodly spoil hath fallenunto me, namely, the castle and lands of Ballyshea, and therewiththe daughter of the owner, deceased, by name Ellen Roche, whom I haveespoused in marriage, and am bringing to the light of truth. I havecastle, lands, flocks and herds, men-servants and maid-servants inabundance, and I give thanks to Him who hath rewarded His servant. "Therefore I wholly resign to you, my brethren, Steadfast and Benoni, any rights of heirship that may be mine in respect of the farmstead ofElmwood, and will never, neither I nor my heirs, trouble you about itfurther. Yet if Ben, or my sisters Patience and Jerusha, be willing tocross over to me in this land of promise they shall be kindly welcome, and I shall find how to bestow them well in marriage. Mine old comrade, Seth Coleman, will tell them how to reach the Castle of Ballyshea, andhow to find safe convoy, and tell you more of the estate wherewith ithas pleased Heaven to reward my poor services. "And so commending you to His holy keeping, no more from your lovingbrother, "JEPHTHAH KENTON. " The spelling of this was queer, even according to the ways of the time, but it was not hard to understand, and it might well fill Steadfast withamazement. He longed to share the tidings with Emlyn, but he did not feel as if itwould be right to let anyone hear before Patience. Only as he went backand called again at Mrs. Lightfoot's for his basket, she askedwhether he had found Seth Coleman, and if his brother had come to suchpreferment as was reported. "Yea, " said Steadfast, "he hath a grant of land, and a castle, and awife. " "Eh, now! Lack-a-day! 'Tis alway the most feather-pated that flyhighest. " Cromwell's Ironsides feather-pated! But that did not trouble Steadfast, who all the way home, as he rode his donkey, was thinking of thedifference it made in his prospects, and in what he had to offer Emlynto be able to feel his tenure so much more secure. Patience and Ben listened in utter amazement ending in a notcomplimentary laugh on the part of the former. "Our Jeph lord of acastle? I'd like to see him. " "Would you? He has a welcome and a husband ready for you and Rushaboth?" "D'ye think I would go and leave you for Jeph, if he were lord of tencastles?" And Ben, whose recollections of Jeph were very dim, exclaimed, "Lord ofa castle! I shall have a crow over Nick Blane now!" Rusha, who was well content with her service at the hall, had no mindfor such a terrible enterprise as a journey "beyond seas" to Ireland, and mayhap Jeph's prospective husband was a less tempting idea, becausea certain young groom had shown symptoms of making her his sweetheart. Steadfast thought often of telling the great secret of his heart to hisfaithful sister Patience, but his extreme shyness and modesty, and thereserve in which he always lived, seemed to make it impossible to himto broach the subject, and there might be a certain consciousness thatEmlyn, while his own pet, had been very troublesome to Patience. Stead was two-and-twenty, a sturdy well-grown fellow, but the hard workhe had been obliged to do as a growing lad, had rounded his shoulders, and he certainly did not walk like the men who had been drilled forsoldiers. His face was healthy and sunburnt, with fair short hair andstraightforward grey eyes. At the first glance people would say, "Whata heavy-looking, clownish young man, " but at the second there wassomething that made a crying child in the street turn to him for helpin distress, and made the marketing dames secure that he told the truthabout his wares. Patience was rather startled by seeing him laboriously tying up a posyof wild rose, honeysuckle, and forget-me-not, and told him the Bristolfolks would not buy those common wild flowers. "They are for none of them, " replied Stead, a little gruffly, andcolouring hotly at being caught. "Oh!" said Patience, in her simplicity. "Are they for Emlyn? I do notthink her mistress will let you see her. " "I shall, " said Stead. "She ought to know of our good fortune. " "He has forgotten that Emlyn is not our sister after all, " saidPatience, as she went back to her washing. "She might as well, " said Ben, who could not remember the hut withoutEmlyn. Stead had better luck than Patience foreboded from a household where theservants were kept very strictly, for there was a good deal of curiosityin Bristol about the report that a lad from the neighbourhood had won anIrish heiress and castle, and when Stead presented himself at thedoor of the house under the overhanging gable, and begged to see EmlynGaythorn to give her some tidings, the maid who opened it exclaimed, "Isit anent the castle in Ireland?" Stead awkwardly said "Aye, mistress. " And as it became evident that thereadiest way of learning the facts would be his admission, he was letinto the house into a sort of wainscotted hall, where he found themistress herself superintending three or four young sempstresses whowere making shirts for the gentlemen of the garrison. Emlyn was amongthem, and sprang up looking as if white seams were not half so congenialas nutting in the gulley, but she looked prettier than ever, as thelittle dark curls burst out of the prim white cap, she sniffed theflowers with ecstasy, and her eyes danced with delight that did Stead'sheart good to see. He needed it, for to stand there hat in hand beforeso many women all staring at him filled him with utter confusion, so that he could scarcely see, and stumbled along when Mrs. Sloggettcalled, "Come here, young man. Is it true that it is your brother whohas won a castle and a countess in Ireland?" "Not a countess, ma'am, " said Stead, gruff with shyness, "but a castle. " Mrs. Sloggett put him through a perfect catechism on Jeph and hisfortunes, which he answered at first almost monosyllabically, thoughafterwards he could speak a little more freely, when the questionsdid not go quite beyond his knowledge. Finally he succeeded in askingpermission to take Emlyn and show her his brother's letter. Mrs. Sloggett was gracious to the brother of the lord of a castle, even inIreland, and moreover Emlyn was viewed in the light of one of the Kentonfamily. So leave was granted to take Master Kenton (he had never been so calledbefore) out into the garden of pot-herbs behind the house, and Emlynwith her dancing step led the way, by a back door down a few steps intoa space where a paved walk led between two beds of vegetables, borderedwith a narrow edge of pinks, daisies, and gilliflowers, to a seat underthe shade of an old apple tree, looking out, as this was high ground, over the broad river full of shipping. "Stead! Stead, good old Stead, " she cried, "to come just as I was halfdead with white seam and scolding! Emlyn here! Emlyn there! And she'sready with her fingers too. She boxed mine ears till they sang againyesterday. " "The jade, " muttered Stead. "What for?" "Only for looking out at window, " said Emlyn. "How could I help it, whenthere were six outlandish sailors coming up the street leading a bigblack bear. Well, Stead, and are you all going to live with Jeph in hiscastle, and will you take me?" "He asks me not, " said Stead, and began to read the letter, to whichEmlyn listened with many little remarks. "So Patience and Rusha wont go. I marvel at them, yet 'tis like sober-sided old Patty! And mayhap amongthe bogs and hills 'tis lonelier than in the gulley. I mind a trooperwho had served in Ireland telling my father it was so desolate he wouldnot banish a dog there. But what did he say about home, Stead, I thoughtit was all yours?" Stead explained, and also the possibility of endeavouring to rebuild thefarmhouse. If he could go to Mr. Elmwood with thirty pounds he thoughtit might be done. "And then, Emlyn, when that is saved (and I have fivepounds already), will you come and make it your home for good and all?" "Stead! oh Stead! You don't mean it--you--Why, that's sweethearting!" "Well, so it is, Emlyn, " said Stead, a certain dignity taking the placeof his shyness now it had come to the point. "I ask you to be my littlesweetheart now, and my wife when I have enough to make our old housesuch as it was when my good mother was alive. " "Stead, Stead, you always were good to me! Will it take long, thinkyou? I would save too, but I have but three crowns the year, and thatsour-faced Rachel takes all the fees. " "The thing is in the hands of God. It must depend on the crops, butwith this hope before me, I will work as never man worked before, " saidStead. "And I will be mistress there!" cried Emlyn. "My wife will be mistress wherever I am sweet. " "Ah, ha!" she laughed, "now I have something to look to, I shall heedlittle when the dame flouts me and scolds me, and Joan twits me with hercousin the 'prentice. " They had only just time to go through the ceremony of breaking a testerbetween them before a shrill call of "Emlyn" resounded down the garden. Mrs. Sloggett thought quite time enough had been wasted over the youngman, and summoned the girl back to her sewing. Emlyn made a face of disgust, very comical and very joyous, but as thegood dame was actually coming in search of her no more could pass. Stead went away overflowing with happiness, and full of plans of raisingthe means of bringing back this sunshine of his hearth. Perhaps it waswell that, though slow of thought, Patience still had wit enough in thelong hours of the day to guess that the nosegay boded something. Shecould not daunt or damp Steadfast's joy--nay, she had affection enoughfor the pretty little being she had cherished for seven years to thinkshe shared it--but she knew all the time that there would be no placein that new farmhouse for her, and there was a chill over her faithfulheart at times. But what would that signify, she thought, provided thatStead was happy? CHAPTER XIX. PATIENCE. "I'm the wealthy miller yet. " TENNYSON. Most devoted was the diligence with which Steadfast toiled and savedwith the hope before him. Since the two young girls were no longer athome, and Ben had grown into a strong lad, Stead held that many littleindulgences might be dispensed with, one by one, either because theycost money or prevented it from being acquired. No cheese was boughtnow, and he wanted to sell all the butter and all the apples that werenot defective. Patience contrived that Ben should never be stinted of his usual fare;and she would, not allow that he needed no warm coat for the winter, butshe said nothing about the threadbare state of her own petticoat, andshe stirred nothing but the thinnest buttermilk into her own porridge, and not even that when the little pigs required it. It was all forStead. Patience at twenty was not an uncomely maiden so far as kindly blueeyes, fresh healthy cheeks, and perfect neatness could make heragreeable to look at, but there was an air of carefulness, and of havingdone a great deal of hard work, which had made her seem out of the reachof the young men who loitered and talked with the maidens on the villagegreen, and looked wistfully at the spot where the maypole had oncestood. Patience was the more amazed by a visit from the Miller Luck and hisson. The son was a fine looking young man of three or four and twenty, who had about three years before married a farmer's daughter, and hadlost her at the birth of her second child. There he stood, almost asbashful as Stead himself could have been under the circumstances, whilehis father paid the astonished Patience the compliment of declaring thatthey had put their heads together, and made up their minds that therewas no wench in those parts so like to be a good mother to the babes, nor so thrifty a housewife as she; and, that, though there were plentyof maids to be had who could bring something in their hands, her wayswere better than any portion she could bring. It really was a splendid offer. The position of miller's wife was veryprosperous, and the Lucks were highly respected. The old miller was goodand kindly, Andrew Luck the steadiest of young men, and though not seento much advantage as he stood sheepishly moving from leg to leg, hewas a very fine, tall, handsome youth, with a certain sweetness andwistfulness in his countenance. Patience had no scruples about previouslove and courtship. That was not the point as she answered-- "Thank you, Master Luck, you are very good; but I cannot leave mybrothers. " "Let the big one get a wife of his own then, " and, as Patience shook herhead, and glanced at where Ben, shy of strangers, was cutting rushes, "and if you be tender on the young one, there would be work for himabout the place. I know you have been a good mother to him, you'd bethe same to our little ones. Come, Andrew, can't ye say a word foryourself?" "Come, Patience, do 'ee come!" pleaded poor Andrew, and the tears evensprang to his eyes. "I'd be very good to thee, and I know thou would'stbe to my poor babes. " Patience's heart really warmed to him, and still more to the babes, butshe could only hold out. "You must find another, " she said. "Come, you need not be coy, my lass, " said the old miller. "You'll notget a better offer, and Andrew has no time nor heart either for runningabout courting. What he wants is a good wife to cheer him up, and see tothe poor little children. " It was powerful pleading, and Patience felt it. "Aye, Master Miller, " she said, "but you see I'm bound not to leaveSteadfast till he is married. He could not get on no ways without me. " "Then why--a plague on it--don't he wed and have done with it?" "He cannot, " said Patience, "till he has made up enough to build up ourold house, but that won't be yet awhile--for years maybe; and he couldnot do it without me to help him. " "And what's to become of you when you've let your best years go bya-toiling for him, and your chance is gone by, and his wife turns you tothe door?" said Master Luck, not very delicately. "That God will provide, " said Patience, reverently. "Anyway, I mustcleave to Steadfast though 'tis very good of you, Master Luck and MasterAndrew, and I never could have thought of such a thing, and I am rightsorry for the little ones. " "If you would only come and see them!" burst out the poor young father. "You never see such a winsome little poppet as Bess. And they be soyoung now, they'd never know you were not their own mother. " "Don't, don't, Master Andrew!" cried Patience, "I tell you I'd come if Icould, but you can't wait, and they can't wait; and you must find a goodmother at once for them, for I have passed my word to hold by Stead tillhe is married, and I must keep to it. " "Very well, my lass, " said the miller, grimly. "There's wenches betterportioned and better favoured than you, and I hope you won't have torepent of missing a good offer. " Of course he said it as if he hoped she would. Patience cried heartilywhen they were gone. Ben came up to her and glowered after them, declaring he wouldn't have his Patty go to be only a step-mother totroublesome brats; but Stead, when he came to know of it, looked grave, and said it was very good of Pat; but he wished she could have kept theyoung fellow in play till she was ready for him. Goody Grace, who was looking after the children till the stepmothercould be found, came and expostulated with Patience, telling her she wasfoolish to miss such a chance, and that she would find out her mistakewhen Stead married and that little flighty, light-headed wench made theplace too hot to hold her. What would she do then? "Come and help you nurse the folk, Goody, " said Patience, cheerfully. Her heart would fail her sometimes at the outlook, but she was too busyto think much about it. Only the long evenings had been pleasanter whenStead used to teach Ben to read Dr. Eales's books and tell her bits suchas she could understand than now when he grudged a candle big enoughto be of any use, and was only plaiting rushes and reckoning up whateverything would bring. Ben was a bright little fellow, and could read as well as his brother. He longed for school, for when boys were not obliged to learn, some ofthem wished to do so. There was a free grammar school about threemiles off to which he wanted to go, and Patience, who was proud of hisability, wished to send him, neither of them thinking anything of thewalk. Stead, however, could see no use in more learning than he had himself. Neither he nor Jeph had been to school. Why should the child go? Hecould not be spared just as he was getting old enough to be of some useand save time, which was money. And when the little fellow showed his disappointment, Stead was evensurly in telling him "they wanted no upstarts. " It was a hard winter, and the frost was followed by a great deal of wet. One of the sheep was swept away by the flood; three or four lambsdied; and Stead, for about the first time in his life, caught a severefeverish cold in looking after the flock, and was laid by for a day ortwo, very cross and fretful at everything going wrong without him. Poor little Ben was more railed at for those few days than ever he hadbeen before, and next he broke down and had to be nursed; and then camePatience's turn. She was ill enough to frighten her brothers; and GoodyGrace, who came to see to her, finding how thin her blanket was, and howlong it was since she had had any food but porridge, gave Steadfasta thorough good scolding, told him he would be the death of a bettersister than he deserved, and set before him how only for his sakePatience might be living on the fat of the land at the mill. To all appearance, Stead listened sulkily enough, but by-and-by Goodyfound a fowl killed and laid ready for use. It was an old hen, whosedeath set Patience crying in her weakness. Nevertheless, it was steweddown into broth which heartened her up considerably, and a blanket thatcame home rolled up on the donkey's back warmed her heart as much as herlimbs. Mrs. Elmwood spared Rusha for a week, and it was funny to see how thegirl wondered at its having been possible to live in such a den. Sheabsolutely cried when Ben told her how hard they had been living, andsaid she did not think Stead would ever have used Patience so. "Then why did she make as if she liked it?" said Stead, gruffly. But for all that Stead was too sound-hearted not to be grieved athimself, and to see that his love and impatience had led him intounkindness to those who depended on him; and when Master Woodleypreached against love of money he felt pricked at the heart, though ithad not been the gain in itself that he aimed at. And when he had to goto the mill, the sight of the comfortable great kitchen, with theopen hearth, glowing fire, seats on either side, tall settle, and theflitches of bacon on the rafters, seemed to reproach him additionally. The difficulties there had been staved off by the old miller himselfmarrying a stout, motherly widow, who had a real delight in the chargeof a baby. "For, " said Master Luck, "Andrew and I could agree on no one for him. " Moreover, Stead ceased to grunt contemptuously when Patience, with GoodyGrace to back her, declared that Ben was too young and slight for farmwork. The boy was allowed to trudge his daily three miles to school, and therehis progress was the wonder and delight of his slower-witted brother andsister. CHAPTER XX. EMLYN'S SERVICE. "Oh, blind mine eye that would not trace, And deaf mine ear that would not heed The mocking smile upon her face, The mocking voice of greed. " LEWIS CARROLL. When Lady-day came round, Steadfast found to his delight and surprise alittle figure dancing out to meet him from Mrs. Lightfoot's. "There, Master Stead. Are not you glad to see me, or be you toodumbfounded to get out a word, like good old Jenny?" stroking thedonkey's cars. "Posies of primroses! How sweet they be! You must spareme one. " "As many as you will, sweetheart. They be all for you, whether given orsold. And you've got a holiday for Lady-day. " "Have a care! I got my ears boxed for such a Popish word. 'Tis butquarter day, you know, being that, hang, draw, and quarter is moreto the present folks' mind than ladies or saints. I have changed myservice, you must know, as poor Dick used to sing:-- "Have a new master, be a new man. " "You have not heard from your own folk, " cried Stead, this being what hemost dreaded. "Nay. But I can away no more with Dame Sloggett, and Cross-patch Rachel, white seam and salmon, and plain collars. So I bade her farewell at theend of the year, and I've got a new mistress. " Stead stood with open mouth. To change service at the end of a year wasbarely creditable in those days, and to do so without consultation withhome was unkind and alarming. "There now, don't be crooked about it. I had not time to come out andtell you and Patience, the old crones kept me so close, stitching atshirts for a captain that is to sail next week, and I knew you would becoming in. " "Where is it?" was all Stead uttered. "What think you of Master Henshaw's, the great merchant, and an honestwell-wisher to King and Church to boot?" "Master Henshaw, the West Indian merchant? His is a good, well-orderedhousehold, and he holds with the old ways. " "Yes. He was out that Whitsun morning we wot of, " said Emlyn. "I wistwell you would be pleased. " "But I thought his good lady was dead, " said Steadfast. "So she is. She that came out to the gully, but there's a new MistressHenshaw, a sweet young lady, of a loyal house, the Ayliffes of Calfield. And I am to be her own woman. " "Own woman, " said Mrs. Lightfoot, for they were by this time among theloaves in her stall. "Merchants' wives did not use to have women oftheir own in my time. " For this was the title of a lady's maid, and rules as to householdappointments were strictly observed before the rebellion. "Mistress Henshaw is gentlewoman born, " returned Emlyn, with a toss ofher head. "She ought to have all that is becoming her station in returnfor being wedded to an old hunks like that! And 'tis very well sheshould have one like _me_ who has seen what becomes good blood! Socommend me to Patience and Rusha, and tell Ben maybe I shall have anorange to send him one of these days. And cheer up, Stead. I shall getfive crowns and two gowns a year, and many a fee besides when there iscompany, so we may build the house the sooner, and I shall not be mewedup, and shall see the more of thee. 'Tis all for you. So never look sogloomy on it, old Sobersides. " And she turned her sweet face to him, and coaxed and charmed himinto being satisfied that all was well, dwelling on the loyalty andexcellence of the master of the house. He found it true that it was much easier to see Emlyn than before. Mrs. Henshaw, a pretty young creature, not much older than Emlyn, was pleasedto do her own marketing, and came out attended by Emlyn, and a littleblack slave boy carrying a basket. She generally bought all thatSteadfast had to sell, and then gave smiling thanks when he offered tohelp carry home her purchases. She would join company with some of heracquaintance, and leave the lovers to walk together, only accompanied bylittle Diego, or Diggo as they called him, whose English was of the mostrudimentary description. Emlyn certainly was very happy in her new quarters. Neither her lady norherself was arrayed with the rigid plainness exacted by Puritanism, andmany disapproving glances were cast upon the fair young pair, mistressand maid, by the sterner matrons. Waiting women could not indulge inmuch finery, but whatever breast knots and tiny curls beyond her littletight cap could do, Emlyn did without fear of rebuke. Stead tried tobelieve that the disapproving looks and words, by which Mrs. Lightfootintimated that she heard reports unfavourable to the household were onlydue to the general distrust and dislike to the bright and lively Emlyn. Mrs. Lightfoot was no Puritan herself, but her gossips were, and hereceived her observations with a dull, stony look that vexed her, byintimating that it was no business of hers. Still it was borne in upon him that, good man as Mr. Henshaw certainlywas, the household was altered. It had been poverty and distress whichhad led the Ayliffe family to give their young sister to a man so muchher elder, and inferior in position; and perhaps still more a desire toconfirm the Royalist footing in the city of Bristol. The lady's brotherswere penniless Cavaliers, and one of them made her house his home, anda centre of Royalist plots and intelligences, which excited Emlyn verymuch by the certainty that something was going on, though what it was, of course, she did not know; and at any rate there was coming and going, and all sorts of people were to be seen at the merchant's hospitabletable, all manner of news to be had here, there, and everywhere, withwhich she delighted to entertain Steadfast, and show her own importance. It was not often good news as regarded the Cavalier cause, for Cromwellwas fixing himself in his seat; and every endeavour to hatch a schemeagainst him was frustrated, and led to the flight or death of thoseconcerned in it. However, so long as Emlyn had something to tell, itmade little difference whether the tidings were good or bad, whetherthey concerned Admiral Blake's fleet, or her mistress's little Italiangreyhound. By-and-by however instead of Mrs. Henshaw, there came tomarket Madam Ayliffe, her mother, a staid, elderly lady, all in black, who might as well, Emlyn said, have been a Puritan. She looked gravely at Stead, and said, "Young man, I am told that youare well approved and trustworthy, and that my daughter suffers you towalk home with this maiden, you being troth plight to her. " Stead assented. "I will therefore not forbid it, trusting that if you be, as I hear, a prudent youth, you may bring her to a more discreet and obedientbehaviour than hath been hers of late. " [Illustration: Stead before the Roundheads] So saying, Mrs. Ayliffe joined company with the old Cavalier Coloneland went on her way as Emlyn made that ugly face that Stead knew of old, clenched her hand and muttered, "Old witch! She is a Puritan at heart, after all! She is turning the house upside down, and my poor mistresshas not spirit to say 'tis her own, with the old woman and the old hunksboth against her! Why, she threatened to beat me because, forsooth, themajor's man was but giving me the time of day on the stairs!" "Was that what she meant?" asked Stead. "Assuredly it was. Trying to set you against me, the spiteful oldmake-bate, and no one knows how long she will be here, falling on thepoor lads if they do but sing a song in the hall after supper, as if shewere a very Muggletonian herself. I trow she is no better. " "Did you not tell me how she held out her house against the Roundheads, and went to prison for sheltering Cavaliers?" "I only wish they had kept her there. All old women be Puritans atheart. I say Stead, I'll have done with service. Let us be wed at once. " Stead could hardly breathe at this proposition. "But I have only ninepounds and two crowns and--" he began. "No matter, there be other ways, " she went on. "Get the house built, andI'll come, and we will have curds and whey all the summer, and mistressand all her friends will come out and drink it, and eat strawberries!" "But the Squire will never build the place up unless I bring more inhand. " "You 'but' enough to butt down a wall, you dull-pated old Stead, " saidEmlyn, "you know where to get at more, and so do I. " Stead's grey eyes fixed on her in astonishment and bewilderment. "Numskull!" she exclaimed, but still in that good humoured voice ofbanter that he never had withstood, "you know what I mean, though maybeyou would not have me say it in the street, you that have secrets. " "How do you know of it?" "Have not I eyes, though some folk have not? Could not I look out at achink on a fine summer morning, when you thought the children asleep?Could not I climb up to your precious cave as well as yourself; and hearthe iron clink under the stone. Ha, ha! and you and Patience thought noone knew but yourselves. " "I trust no one else does. " "No, no, I'm no gad-about, whatever you may be pleased to think me. Theysay everything comes of use in seven years, and it must be over thatnow. " "Ten since 'twas hidden, nigh seven since that Whitsuntide. There'snever a parson who could come out, is there? Besides, with PeterWoodward nigh, 'tis not safe to meet. " "That's what your head is running on. No, no. They will never have itout again that fashion. The old Prayer-book is banished for ever and aday! I heard master and the Captain say that now old Noll has got hiswill, he will soon call himself king, and there's no hope of churchesor parsons coming back; and old madam sat and cried. The Jack Presbytersand the rest of the sectaries have got it all their own way. " "Dr. Eales said I had no right to give it to Master Woodley, or any thatwas not the right sort. " "So why should you go on keeping it there rotting for nothing, whenit might just hinder us from wearing our very lives out while you areplodding and saving?" Stead stood stock still, as her meaning dawned on him, "Child, you knownot what you say, " at last he uttered. "Ah well, you are slow to take things in; but you'll do it at last. " "I am slow to take in this, " said Stead. "Would you have me rob God?" "No, only the owls and the bats, " said Emlyn. "If they are the betterfor the silver and gold under them! What good can it do to let it liethere and rot?" "Gold rots not!" growled Stead. "Tarnishes, spoils then!" said Emlyn pettishly. "Come, what good is't toany mortal soul there?" "It is none of mine. " "Not after seven years? Come, look you now, Stead, 'tis not only beingtired of service and sharp words, and nips and blows, but I don't likebeing mocked for having a clown and a lubber for my sweetheart. Ohyes! they do, and there's a skipper and two mates, and a clerk, and awell-to-do locksmith, besides gentlemen's valets and others, I don'taccount of, who would all cut off their little fingers if I'd only oncelook at them as I am doing at you, you old block, who don't heed it, andI don't know that I can hold out against them all, " she added, lookingdown with a sudden shyness; "specially the mates. There's JonahRichards, who has a ship building that he is to have of his own, and hewants to call it the 'Sprightly Emlyn, ' and the other sailed with PrinceRupert, and made ever so many prizes, and how am I to stand out when youdon't value me the worth of an old silver cup?" "Come, come, Em, that's only to frighten a man. " But she knew in histone that he was frightened. "Not a bit! I should be ever so much better off in a tidy little housewhere I could see all that came and went than up in your lane withnought to go by but the market folk. 'Tis not everyone that would havekept true to a big country lout like you, like that lady among thesalvage men that the King spoke of; and I get nothing by it but wait, wait, wait, when there's stores of silver ready to your hand. " "Heaven knows, and you know, Emlyn, 'tis not for want of love. " "Heaven may know, but I don't. " "I gave my solemn word. " "And you have kept it these ten years, and all is changed. " Thenaltering her tone, "There now, I know it takes an hour to beat a notioninto that slow brain of yours, and here we be at home, and I shall havemadam after me. I'll leave you to see the sense of it, and if I do nothear of something before long, why then I shall know how much you carefor poor little Emlyn. " With which last words she flitted within the gates, leaving Steadfaststill too much stunned to realise all she meant, as he turned homewards;but all grew on him in time, the idea that Emlyn, his Emlyn, his orphanof the battlefield, bereaved for the sake of King and Church, should bestriving to make him betray his trust! "The silver is Mine and thegold is Mine, " rang in his ears, and yet was it not cruel that when shereally loved him best, and sought to return to him as a refuge from themany temptations to her lively spirit, he should be forced to leave herin the midst of them--against her own warning and even entreaty, andnot only himself lose her, but lose her to one of those godless riotoussailors who were the dread and bane of the neighbourhood? Was not ahuman soul worth as much as a consecrated Chalice? These were the debates in Steadfast's much tormented soul. He couldthink, though he could not clothe his thoughts in words, and day afterday, night after night he did think, while Patience wondered at theheavy moodiness that seemed to have come over him. He would not open hislips to ask her counsel, being quite certain of what it would be, andnot choosing to hear her censure of Emlyn for what he managed to excuseby the poor child's ignorance and want of training, and by her ardentdesire to be under his wing and escape from temptation. He recollected a thousand pleas that he might have used with her, toshow it was not want of love but a sacred pledge that withheld him, andmarket day after market day he went in, priming himself all the waywith arguments that were to confirm her constancy, arm her againsttemptation, and assure her of his unalterable love, though he might notbreak his vow, nor lay his hand upon sacred things. But whether Emlyn would not, or could not, meet him, he did not know, for a week or two went by before he saw her, and then she was carryinga great fan for her young mistress, who was walking with a Cavalier, as gay as Cavaliers ever ventured to be, and another young lady, whosewaiting woman had paired with Emlyn. They were mincing along, gazingabout them, and uttering little contemptuous titters, and Stead couldonly too well guess what kind of remarks Emlyn's companion might makeupon him. Near his stand, however, the other lady beckoned her maid to adjustsomething in her dress; and Stead could approach Emlyn. She looked upwith her bright, laughing eyes with a certain wistfulness in them. "Have you made up your mind to cheat the owls?" she asked. "Emlyn, if you would not speak so lightly, I could show cause--" "Oh, that's enough, " she answered hastily, turning as the other maidjoined her; and Stead caught the shrill, pert voice demanding if thatwas her swain with clouted shoes. Emlyn's reply he could not hear, buthe saw the twist of the shoulders. There are bitter moments in everyone's life, and that was one of thevery bitterest of Steadfast Kenton's. CHAPTER XXI. THE ASSAULT OF THE CAVERN. "By all description this should be the place. Who's here?" SHAKESPEARE. Harvest was over, and the autumn evenings were darkening. It was laterthan the usual bed time, but Patience had a piece of spinning which shewas anxious to finish for the weaver who took all her yarn, and Steadwas reading Dr. Eales's gift of the Morte d'Arthur, which had greatfascination for him, though he never knew whether to regard it as truthor fable. He wanted to drive out the memory of what Mrs. Lightfoot hadtold him about the Henshaw household, where the youngest of the lady'sbrothers had lately arrived from beyond seas, bringing with him habitsof noise and riot, which greatly scandalised the neighbours. Suddenly Growler started up with pricked ears, and emitted a sound likethunder. Patience checked her wheel. There was an unmistakable sound ofsteps. Stead sprang up. Growler rushed at the door with a furious volleyof barking. Stead threw it open, catching up a stout stick as he did so, and the dog dashed out, but was instantly driven back with an oath anda blow. It was a bright moonlight night, and Stead beheld three tall menevidently well armed. "Ho, you fellow there, " one called out, "keep back your cur, we don'twant to hurt him nor you. " "Then what are you doing here?" demanded Stead. "We are come for what you wot of. For the King's service. " "Who sent you?" asked Stead, for the moment somewhat dazed. One of them laughed and said, "As if you did not know. " There was a sickening perception, but Stead's powers were alert enoughfor him to exclaim, "Then you have no warrant. " "My good fellow, don't stickle about such trifles. For the King'sservice it is, and that should be enough for all loyal hearts. Hollo, what's that? Silence your dog, I say, " as Growler's voice resoundedthrough the gulley, "or it will be the worse for you and him. " Stead took hold of the dog's collar, and amidst his choked grumbles, said, "I do nought but on true warrant. " "Hark ye, blockhead, " said the foremost. "I'm an officer of HisMajesty's, with power to make requisitions for his service. " "Shew it, " said Stead, quite convinced that this was sheer robbery. "You addle-pated, insolent clown, to dispute terms with gentlemen in HisMajesty's service. Stand aside. I've done you only too much honour byparleying with you. Out of the way. We don't want to take a stick ofyour own trumpery, I say. " "Sir, it is Church plate. " "Ha, ha! Church plate is His Most Sacred Majesty's plate. Don't ye knowthat, you ass? Here! we'll throw you back something for yourself if youwill show us the cave and save us trouble, for we know which it is bythe token of the red stone and twisted ash. Ho! take--What's become ofthe clown? He has run off. Discreet fellow!" For Stead had disappeared in the black darkness behind the hut. Heremembered Jephthah's discomfiture by the owl, and it struck him thatfrom within the cavern it would be quite possible to keep the robbers atbay, if they tried without knowing the way to climb up among the bushes. He was not afraid for his brother and sister, as the marauders evidentlydid not want anything but the plate. Indeed, his whole soul was soconcentrated on the defence of his charge that he had no room foranything else. Knowing the place perfectly, Stead had time to swing himself, armed witha stout bludgeon, up into the hermit's cave, and even to drag after himGrowler, a very efficient ally. The contrasts of moonlight were all inhis favour, the lights almost as bright as in sunshine, the shadows sovery dark. He could see through the overhanging ivy and travellers' joythe men peering about with their dark lantern, looking into the caveswhere the pigs were, among the trees, and he held Growler's mouthtogether lest the grim murmurs that were rolling in the beast's throatshould serve as a guide. Then he heard them shout to Patience to come and guide them since hercoward of a brother had made off, and he heard her answer, "Not I, 'tisno business of mine. " "We'll see about that. D'ye know how folks are made to speak, my lass?" Then Stead recollected with horror that he had left her to her fate. Would he be obliged to come down to her help? At that moment, however, there was a call from the fellow who bore the lantern. "Here's the redstone. That must be the ash. Now then!" "You first, Nick. " Then came a crackling and rustling of boughs, a headappeared, and at that moment Stead loosed Growler and would have dealta blow with his stick, but that the assault of the dog had sufficed tosend the assailant, roaring and cursing, headlong down the crag. Furious threats came up to him and his dog, but he heard them insilence, though Growler's replies were vociferous. Stead gathered thatthe fall had in some degree hurt the man for he made an exclamation ofpain, and the others bade him stay there and keep back the wench. "We'll have you down though we smoke you out like a wasps' nest, youdisloyal adder, you, " was one of the threats. "Or serve him like the Spaniard at Porto Santo, " said another. Presently after numerous threats and warnings that they had firearmsand were determined to use them, two of the men began climbing much morecautiously, holding by the trees, so as not to be suddenly overthrown. However the furious attack of such a dog as Growler, springing fromutter darkness was a formidable matter, and the man against whom he hadlaunched himself could not but fall in his turn, but the dog went afterhim, and the companion, being on his guard, was not overthrown. Steadaimed a blow at the fellow with all his might, but the slouching hatwarded off the full force of the bludgeon. Then Stead sprang at him andgrappled with him. There was the report of a pistol, and both rolledheadlong among the bushes, but at that moment a fresh shout was heard--acry of "Villains, traitors, robbers--what be at?" and a rush of feet, while in the moonlight appeared Peter Pierce with his fowling piece, another man, Ben, and four or five dogs. The robbers never waited to see how small the reinforcement was, andit made noise enough for the whole hue-and-cry of the parish. Off theydashed, through the wood, the new comers after them. But all Patience knew was that Steadfast was lying senseless at thebottom of the cliff, with poor Growler moaning by him, and licking hisface, and that her hands were wet with what must be blood. It was too dark to see anything, but she could hardly bear to leave him, as she hurried back to the hut for the lantern. All this had taken butfew minutes, so that she had only to catch it up from the table whereStead's book still lay. By the time she came back, he had opened his eyes, and his hand was onGrowler's head. "Are they gone?" he asked faintly. "Yes, and Peter after them. Oh! Stead, you are badly hurt. " "They have not got it?" "Oh no, no, you saved it. " "Thank God. Is Ben safe?" "Yes, after them with Peter. I sent him out while you were talking tocall Peter. " "Good--" and his eyes closed again. "Good Growler, poor Growl--" headded, fondling the big head, as the dog moaned. "See to him, Pat. " "I must see to you first. Oh! Stead, is it very bad?" "I'll try to get in, if you'll help me. " He raised himself, but this effort brought a rush of blood to the lips, which greatly terrified Patience. To her great relief, however, NannyPierce having satisfied herself that all was quiet round the hut, herecalled out to ask where Patience was. She was profuse in "Lack-a-daisy!""Dear heart!" and "Poor soul!" and was quite sure Stead was as good asa dead man; but she had strong arms, and so had Patience, and when theyhad done what they could to stanch the wound in his side, which however, was not bleeding much externally, they carried him in between themto Patience's bed which had been Emlyn's, and therefore was the leastuncomfortable. Poor Growler crept after, bleeding a good deal, andSteadfast would not rest till his faithful comrade was looked to. Therewas a dagger cut in his chest, which Nanny, used to dog doctoring, boundup, after which the creature came close to his master, and fell asleepunder his hand. It was a very faint hand. Movement or speech alike brought blood to themouth, and Stead's ruddy checks were becoming deadly white. He struggledto say, "You and Ben guard it! Say a prayer, Pat, " and then the twowomen really thought that in the gush that followed all was over, andNanny marvelled at the stunned calm in which Patience went over theLord's Prayer, and such Psalms as she could remember. Steps came, and Nanny shrieked. Then she saw it was her husband and theother two men. "Made off to the town, " said Peter, gruffly. "How now--hurt?" "O, Peter, they have made an end of the poor lad. Died like a lamb, evennow. " "No, no, " said Peter, as he came close to the bed with his moreexperienced eye; "he ain't dead. 'Tis but a swoon. Hast any strongwaters, Pat? No, I'll be bound. Ho, you now, Bill, run and knock them upat the Elmwood Arms, and bring down a gill. " "And call Goody Grace, " entreated Patience, "she will know best what todo. " On the whole, Peter's military experience was more hopeful, if not morehelpful than Goody Grace's. He was the only person who persisted indeclaring that such wounds were not always mortal, though he agreedin owning that the inward bleeding was the worst sign. Stead did notattempt to speak again, but lay there deadly white and with a strickenlook on his face, which Patience could not bear to see, and she ascribedto the conviction that the wretched little Emlyn must have betrayed hissecret. The hut was over-full of volunteers of assistance and enquiry the nextday, including the squire and Master Woodley; but nobody seemed to guessat the real object of the robbers' attack, everybody thinking theyhad come for the savings which Stead was known to be making towardsrebuilding the farmhouse. Mr. Elmwood was very indignant and took Pierce, and Blane the constable, into Bristol to see whether the felons could be captured and brought tojustice, but they proved to have gone down to the wharf, and to have goton board a vessel which had dropped down the river in the early morning. They were also more than suspected of being no other than buccaneers whoplied their trade of piracy in the West Indies. The younger Ayliffe hadgone with them, and was by no means above suspicion. Mr. Elmwood also brought out a barber surgeon to see young Kenton, athing which his sister would not have dared to propose. But there wasnot much to be done, the doctor decided that the bullet was where theattempt at extraction would be fatal, and that the only hope of evenpartial recovery was in perfect stillness and silence--and this Patiencecould promise to ensure as far as in her lay. Instructions on dressingthe wound were given to her, and she was to send in to the barber's shopif ointment or other appliances were needed. This was all that she wasto expect, and more indeed than she had thought feasible; for folks oftheir condition were sick and got well, lived or died without the aid ofpractitioners above the skill of Goody Grace. However, he gave her verylittle hope, though he would not pronounce that her brother was dying. Afew days would decide, and quiet was the only chance. Scarcely however were the visitors gone, and Stead left to what restpain would allow him after being handled by the surgeon, when a sound ofsobbing was heard outside. "Oh! oh! I'm afraid to go in! Ben! Oh! tellme, is he not dead? I'm the most miserable maid in the world if he is. " "He's alive, small thanks to you, " responded Ben, who had somehowarrived at a knowledge of the facts, while Rusha, who was milking, buried her head in Daisy's side, and would not even look at her. Patience felt in utter despair, and longed to misunderstand Stead'ssigns to her to open the door. She tried to impress the need of quiet, but Emlyn darted in, her hood pushed back, her hair flying, her dressdisordered, looking half wild, and dropping on the floor, she crouchedthere with clasped hands, crying "Oh! oh! he looks like death. He'll dieand I'm the most--" "If you make all that noise and tumult he will, " said Patience, whocould bear no more. "Are you come here to finish what you have done? Dogo away. " "Oh! but I must tell you! They said it was for the King, and that he hadthe right. Yes they did, and they swore that they would hurt no one. " Stead looked to a certain extent pleased, but Patience broke out, "As ifyou did not know he would rather die than give up his trust. " "I thought he would never know--" "Robber!" said Patience. "Go! You have done harm enough already. " "But I must tell you, " persisted Emlyn. "I used to see Dick Glass amongLord Goring's troopers, and he is from our parts, and he has been withPrince Rupert. There was a plot, I know there is, and both the MasterAyliffes are in it, and we were to go and raise Worcestershire, onlythey wanted money, and Dick was to--to wed me--and set us across theriver this morning, when they had got the treasure. 'Twas for the King. And now they are all gone, Master Philip and all, and master says theyare flibustiers, and pirates, and robbers; and Mrs. Lightfoot's boy cameand said Stead Kenton was shot dead at his house door, and then I wasneither to have nor to hold, but I ran off here like one distraught, forI never loved anyone like you Stead. " "Pretty love!" said Patience. "Oh! if you think you love him, go and lethim be at peace. " "I do! I do!" cried the girl, quite unmanageable. "Only it made me madthat he should heed an old chest and a musty parson more than me, andso I took up with Dick, and he over persuaded me with his smooth tonguethat we would raise folk for the King. " Stead held out his hand. "Oh! Stead, Stead, you are always kinder than Patience! You forgive me, dear old Stead, do not you? And I'll tend you day and night, and youshall not die, and I'll wed you, if you have nought but the shirt toyour back. " Patience felt nearly distracted at the notion of Emlyn there day andnight, but at that instant Goody Grace, who had been to her home inpreparation for spending the night in nursing, walked in. "How now, mistress, what are you about here?" "She wants to stay and tend him, and I don't know whether she has comewith her mistress's knowledge, " sighed Patience. "Fine tendance!" said the old woman. "My lady wants to kill himoutright. Nay, nay, my young madam, we want none of your airs andflights here. You can do no good, except by making yourself scarce--youthat can't hold your tongue a moment. " Stead here whispered, "Her mistress, will she forgive her?" "Oh, yes, no fear but that she will, " said Emlyn, who perhaps hadrevolved in her mind, since her first impulse, what it would be to nurseStead in that hovel, with two such displeased companions as Goody andPatience. More to pacify Steadfast's uneasy eyes than for her own sake, Patience gave her a drink of milk and a piece of bread, and Peter comingjust then to ask if he could help Ben with the cattle, undertook tosee her safely on her way, since twilight was coming on. Sobered andawestruck by the silence and evident condemnation of all around, sheended by flinging herself on her knees by the bed, and saying "Stead, Stead, you forgive me, though no one else does?" "Poor child--I do--as I hope--" "The blood again. You've done it now, " exclaimed Goody Grace. "Away withyou!" Peter fairly dragged her out, while the women attended to Stead. But he let her wait outside till they heard, "Not dead, but not far fromit. " CHAPTER XXII. EMLYN'S TROTH. "Woman's love is writ in water, Woman's faith is traced in sand. " AYTOUN. Day after day Steadfast Kenton lingered between life and death, andthough the external wound healed, there was little relief to the deeperinjury which could not be reached, and which the damps and chills ofautumn and winter could only aggravate. He could move little, and speak even less; and suffered much, both frompain and difficulty of breathing, as he lay against sacks and pillowson his bed, or sat up in an elbow chair which Mrs. Elmwood lent him. Everybody was very kind in those days of danger. Mrs. Elmwood let Rushacome on many an afternoon to help her sister, and always bringing someposset, or cordial, or dainty of some sort to tempt the invalid. GoodyGrace, Mrs. Blane, Dame Oates, Nanny Pierce vied with each other inoffers of sitting up with him; Andrew, the young miller, came out of hisway to bring a loaf of white bread, and to fetch the corn to be ground. Peter Pierce, Rusha's lover, and more old comrades than Patience quitedesired, offered their services in aiding Ben with the cattle andother necessary labours, but as the first excitement wore off, thesevolunteers became scantier, and when nothing was to be heard but "justthe same, " nothing to be seen but a weak, wan figure sitting wrappedby the fire, the interest waned, and the gulley was almost as littlefrequented as before. Poor Ben's schooling had, of course, to be givenup, and it was well that he was nearly as old as Stead had been whenthey were first left to themselves. Happily his fifteen months of studyhad not made him outgrow his filial obedience and devotion to the lessinstructed elder brother and sister, who had taken the place of theparents he had never known. Benoni, child of sorrow, he had been named, and perhaps his sickly babyhood and the mournful times around had tendedto make him a quiet boy, without the tearing spirits that would havemade him eager to join the village lads in their games. Indeed theylaughed at him for his poverty and scholarship, and called him JackPresbyter, Puritan, bookworm, and all the opprobrious names they couldthink of, though no one ever less merited sectarian nicknames than he, as far as doctrine went. For, bred up on Dr. Eales' books, and obligedto look out on the unsettled state of religious matters, he wasas staunch a churchman as his brother, and fairly understoodthe foundations of his faith. Poor boy, the check to his studiesdisappointed him, and he spent every leisure moment over his Latinaccidence or in reading. Next to the stories in the Bible, he lovedthe Maccabees, because of the likeness to the persecuted state of theChurch; and he knew the Morte d'Arthur almost by heart, and thought itpart of the history of England. Especially he loved the part that tellsof the Holy Grail, the Sacred Cup that was guarded by the maimed KingPelles, and only revealed to the pure in heart and life. Stead had fullyconfided to him the secret of the cave, in case he should be theone left to deliver up the charge; and, in some strange way, the boyconnected the treasure with the Saint Grail, and his brother with themaimed king. So he worked very hard, and Patience was capable of a gooddeal more than in her earlier days. Stead, helpless as he was, didnot require constant attendance, and knew too well how much was on hissister's hands to trouble her when he could possibly help doing so. Thusthey rubbed on; though it was a terrible winter, and they often had tobreak in on the hoard which was to have built the house, sometimes forneedments for the patient, sometimes to hire help when there was workbeyond the strength of Patience and Ben, who indeed was too slender todo all that Stead had done. Ben did not shine in going to market. He was not big enough to hold hisown against rude lads, and once came home crying with his donkey beatenand his eggs broken; moreover, he was apt to linger at stalls of booksand broadsheets. As soon as Patience could venture to leave her brother, she was forced to go to market herself; and there was a staidness andsobriety about her demeanour that kept all impertinence at a distance. Poor Patience, she was not at all the laughing rustic beauty that Emlynwould have been at market. She would never have been handsome, andthough she was only a few years over twenty, she was beginning to lookweather-beaten and careworn, like the market women about her, mothers ofhalf-a-dozen children. Now and then she saw Emlyn in all her young, plump beauty, but lookingmuch quieter, and always coming to her for news of Steadfast. There wereeven tears in those bright eyes when she heard how much he suffered. The girl had evidently been greatly sobered by the results of herindiscretion, and the treachery into which it had led her. She probablycared more for Steadfast than for anyone else except herself, and wasshocked and grieved at his condition; and she had moreover discoveredhow her credulity had been played upon, and that she had had a narrowescape of being carried off by a buccaneer. Her master too had been called to order by the authorities, fined andthreatened for permitting Royalist plots to be hatched in his house. Hehad been angered by the younger Ayliffe's riotous doings, and his wifehad been terrified. There had been a general reformation in which Emlynhad only escaped dismissal through her mistress's favour, pleading herorphanhood, her repentance, and her troth plight to the good young manwho had been attacked by those dissolute fellows, though Mrs. Henshawlittle knew how accountable was her favourite maid for the attack. So good and discreet was Emlyn, so affectionate her messages to Stead, and so much brightness shone in his face on hearing them; there was somuch pleasure when she sent him an orange and he returned the snowdropshe had made Rusha gather, that Patience began to believe that Stead wasright--that the shock was all the maiden needed to steady her--and thatall would end as he hoped, when he should be able to resume his labours, and add to the sadly reduced hoard. It was not, however, till the March winds were over that Stead made anydecided step towards recovery, and began to prefer the sun to the fire, and to move feebly and slowly about the farmyard, visiting the animals, too few in number, for his skilled attention had been missed. As summercame on he was able to do a little more, herd them with Growler's help, and gradually to undertake what required no exertion of strength orspeed, and there he stopped short--all the sunny months of summer coulddo no more for him than make him fit to do such work as an old man ofseventy might manage. He was persuaded, much against his will, to ride the white horse intoBristol at a foot-pace to consult once more the barber surgeon. Thatworthy, who was unusually sagacious for his time and had had experiencein the wars, told him that his recovery was a marvel, but that with thebullet where it was lodged, he could scarcely hope to enjoy much morehealth or comfort than at present. It could not be reached, but it mightshift, when either it would prove fatal or become less troublesome; andas a friend and honest man, he counselled the poor youth not to wastehis money nor torture himself by having recourse to remedies or doctorswho could do no real good. Stead thanked the barber, paid his crown, and slowly made his way toMrs. Lightfoot's, where he was to rest, dine, and see Emlyn. Kind Mrs. Lightfoot shed tears when she saw the sturdy, ruddy youthgrown so thin and pale; and as to Emlyn, she actually stood silent forthree minutes. The two were left together in Mrs. Lightfoot's kitchen, for Patience wasat market, and their hostess had to mind her trade. Stead presently told Emlyn somewhat of the doctor's opinion, and then, producing his portion of the tester, and with lips that trembled inspite of himself, said that he had come to give Emlyn back her trothplight. "Oh! Stead, Stead, " she cried, bursting into tears. "I thought you hadforgiven me. " "Forgiven you! Yea, truly, poor child, but--" "But only when you were sick! You cast me off now you are whole. " "I shall never be whole again, Emlyn. " "I don't believe Master Willis. He is nought but a barber, " sheexclaimed passionately. "I know there are physicians at the Bath whowould cure you; or there's the little Jew by the wharf; or the wise manon Durdham Down. But you always are so headstrong; when you have madeup your mind no one can move you, and you don't care whose heart youbreak, " she sobbed. "Hearken, little sweet, " said Stead. "'Tis nought but that I wot that itwould be ill for you to be bound to a poor frail man that will never beable to keep you as you should be kept. All I had put by is well nighgone, and I'm not like to make it up again for many a year, even if Iwere as strong as ever. " "And you won't go to the Jew, or the wise man, or the Bath?" "I have not the money. " "But I will--I will save it for you!" cried Emlyn, who never had savedin her life. "Or look here. Master Henshaw might give you a place inhis office, and then there would be no need to dwell in that nasty, dampgulley, but we could be in the town. I'll ask my mistress to crave itfrom him. " Stead could not but smile at her eagerness, but he shook his head. "It would be bootless, sweetheart, I cannot carry weights. " "No, but you can write. " "Very scurvily, and I cannot cypher. " For Stead, like everyone else at Elmwood, kept his accounts by tally andin his head, and the mysteries of the nine Arabic figures were perfectlyunknown to him. However, Emlyn stuck to the hope, and he was so farinspired by it that he ceased to insist on giving up the pledges of thebetrothal, and he lay on the settle in quiet enjoyment of Emlyn's castlebuilding, as she sat on a stool by his side, his hand on her shoulder, somewhat as it was wont to lie on Growler's head. And in spite ofMaster Willis's opinion, he rode home to the gulley a new man, assuringPatience, on the donkey by his side, that there was more staunchnessand kindness in little Emlyn than ever they had thought for. Even theferryman who put them over the river declared that the doctor musthave done Master Kenton a power of good, and Stead smiled and did notcontradict him. Stead actually consulted Mr. Woodley how to learn cyphering beyond whatBen had acquired at school; and the minister lent him a treatise, overwhich he pored with a board and a burnt stick for many an hour when hewas out on the common with the cattle, or on the darkening evenings inthe hut. Ben saw his way into those puzzles with no more difficulty thanwhetted his appetite, worked out sum after sum, and explained themto his brother, to the admiration of both his elders, till frowns ofdespair and long sighs from Stead brought Patience to declare he wasmazing himself, and insist on putting out the light. Stead had more time for his studies than he could wish, for the coldof winter soon affected the injured lungs; and, moreover, the being nolonger able to move about rapidly caused the damp and cold of theravine to produce rheumatism and attendant ills, of which, in his formerhealthy, out-of-door life, he had been utterly ignorant, and he had tospend many an hour breathless, or racked with pain in the poor littlehovel, sometimes trying to give his mind to the abstruse mysteries ofmultiplication of money, but generally in vain, and at others whilingaway the time with his books, for though there were only seven of them, including Bible and Prayer-book, a very little reading could be the textof so much musing, that these few perfectly sufficed him. And then hewas the nurse of any orphaned lamb or sick chicken that Patience wasanxious about, and his care certainly saved many of those small lives. The spring, when he came forth again, found him on a lower level, lessstrong and needing a stick to aid his rheumatic knee. Not much was heard of Emlyn that spring. She did not come to marketwith her mistress, and Patience was not inclined to go in quest of her, having a secret feeling that no news might be better for Stead thananything she was likely to hear; while as to any chance of their comingtogether, the Kentons had barely kept themselves through this winter, and Steadfast's arithmetic was not making such progress as would givehim a place at a merchant's desk. Patience, however, was considerably startled when, one fine Juneday, she saw Mrs. Henshaw's servant point her out to two tallsoldierly-looking men, apparently father and son. "Good morrow to you, honest woman, " said the elder. "I am told it is youwho have been at charges for many years for my brother's daughter, EmlynGaythorn. " Patience assented. "You have been right good to her, I hear; and I thank you for that same, and will bear what we may of the expense, " he added, taking out a heavybag from his pouch. He went on to explain that he and his son having gone abroad with hismaster had been serving with the Dutch, and had made some prize money. Learning on the peace that a small inheritance in Worcestershire hadfallen to the family, they had returned, and found from Lady Blythedalethat the brother's daughter was supposed to be alive somewhere nearBristol. She had a right to half, and being honourable men, they hadset out in search of her, bringing letters from the lady to Mr. Henshaw, whose house was still a centre of inquiry for persons in the Cavalierinterest. There, of course, they had discovered Emlyn; and MasterGaythorn proceeded to say that it had been decided that the estateshould not be broken up, but that his son should at once wed her andunite their claims. "But, sir, " exclaimed Patience, "she is troth plight to my brother. " "So she told me, but likewise that he is a broken man and sickly, andhad offered to restore her pledge. " Patience could not deny it, though she felt hotly indignant. "She charged me to give it back to you, " added the uncle; "and to bidyou tell the young man that we are beholden to you both; but that sincethe young folk are to be wedded to-morrow morn, and then to set forthfor Worcestershire, there is no time for leave-takings. " "I do not wonder!" exclaimed Patience, "that she has no face to see us. She that has been like a child or a sister to us, to leave us thus! O mybrother!" "Come, come, my good woman, best not make a pother. " Poor Patience'shomely garb and hard-worked looks shewed little of the yeoman class towhich she belonged. "You've done your duty by the maid and here's thebest I have to make it up. " Patience could not bring herself to take the bag, and he dropped itinto her basket "I am sorry for the young man, your brother, but he knewbetter than to think to wed her as he is. And 'tis better for all thereshould be no women's tears and foolishness over it. " "Is she willing?" Patience could not but ask. "Willing?" Both men laughed. "Aye, what lass is not willing to take afine, strapping husband, and be a landed dame? She gave the token backof her own free will, eh, Humfrey; and what did she bid us say?" "Her loving greetings to--What were their Puritanical names?" said theson contemptuously. "Aye, and that she pitied the poor clown down there, but knew he would be glad of what was best for her. " "So farewell, good mistress, " said Master Gaythorn, and off they clankedtogether; and Patience, looking after them, could entirely believe thatthe handsome buff coat, fringed belt, high boots, and jauntily cockedhat would have driven out the thought of Stead in his best days. And nowthat he was bent, crippled, weak, helpless, --"and all through her, whathope was then, " thought Patience, "yet if she had loved him, or therehad been any truth in her, she could have wedded him now, and he wouldhave been at ease through life! A little adder at our hearth! We arewell quit of her, if he will but think so, but how shall I ever tellhim?" She did not rush in with the tidings but came home slowly, drearily, so that Stead, who was sitting outside by the door, peeling rushes, gathered that something was amiss, and soon wormed it out of her, whileher tears dropped fast for him. Still, as ever, he spoke little. He saidher uncle was right in sparing tears and farewells, no doubt reservingto himself the belief that it was against her will. And when Patiencecould not help declaring that the girl might have made him share herprosperity, he said, "I'm past looking after her lands. Her uncle wouldsay so. 'Tis his doing; I am glad of what is best for my darling as was. There's an end of it, Patience--joy and grief. And I thank God that thechild is safely cared for at last. " He tried to be as usual, but he was very ill that night. Patience found the money in her basket. She hated it and put it aside, and it was only some time after that she was constrained to use it, onlythen telling Stead whence it came, when he could endure to hear that theuncle had done his best to be just. CHAPTER XXIII. FULFILMENT. "My spirit heats her mortal bars, As down dark tides the glory glides, And mingles with the stars. " TENNYSON. The year 1660 had come, and in the autumn, just as harvest was over, andthe trees on the slopes were taking tints of red, yellow, and brown, anelderly clergyman, staff in hand, came slowly up the long lane leadingto Elmwood, whence he had been carried, bound to his horse, seventeenyears before. He had not suffered as much as some of his fellow priests. After a termof imprisonment in London, he had been transported to the plantations, namely, the American settlements, and had fallen in with friends, whotook him to Virginia. This was chiefly colonized by people attached tothe Church, who made him welcome, and he had ministered among them tillthe news arrived of the Restoration of Charles II, and likewise that thelawful incumbents of benefices, who had been driven out, were reinstatedby Act of Parliament. Mr. Holworth's Virginian friends would gladly havekept him with them, but he felt that his duty was to his original flock, and set out at once for England, landing at Bristol. There, however, hewaited, like the courteous man he was, to hold communication with hispeople, till he had written to Mr. Elmwood, and made arrangements withhim and Master Woodley. They were grieved, but they were both men who had a great respect forlaw and parliament, so they made no difficulties. Mr. And Mrs. Woodleyretired to the hall and left the parsonage vacant, after the ministerhad preached a farewell sermon in the church which made everyone cry, for he was a good man and had made himself loved, and there were veryfew in the parish who could understand that difference between the trueChurch and a body without bishops. Mr. Holworth had in the meantime goneto Wells to see his own Bishop Piers, an old man of eighty-six, and itwas from thence that he was now returning. He had not chosen to enterhis parish till the intruded minister had resigned the charge, but hehad been somewhat disappointed that none of his old flock, not evenany Kentons, who had so much in charge, had come in to see him. He nowarrived in this quiet way, thinking that it would not be delicate tothe feelings of the squire and ex-minister to let the people get up anysigns of joy or ring the bells, if they were so inclined. Indeed, he wasmuch afraid from what he had been able to learn that it would be onlythe rougher sort, who hated Puritan strictness and wanted sport andrevelry, who would give him an eager welcome. So he first went quietly up to the church, which he found full ofbenches and pews, with the Altar table in the middle of the nave, andthe squire's comfortable cushioned seat at the east end. He knelt on thestep for a long time, then made a brief visit to his own house, wherethe garden was in beautiful order, but only a room or two were furnishedwith goods he had bought from the Woodleys, and these were in charge ofa servant he had hired at Bristol. Thence the old man went out into the village, and his first halt wasat the forge, where Blane, who had grown a great deal stouter and moregrizzled, started at sight of his square cap. "Eh! but 'tis the old minister! You have come in quietly, sir! I amafraid your reverence has but a sorry welcome. " "I do not wonder you are grieved to part with Master Woodley. " "Well, sir, he be a good man and a powerful preacher, though no doubtyour reverence has the best right, and for one, I'm right glad to seean old face again. We would have rung the bells if we had known you werecoming. " "That would have been hard on Master Woodley. I am only glad they arenot melted. But how is it with all my old friends, Harry? Poor SirGeorge writ me that old clerk North died of grief of the rifling of thechurch; and that John Kenton had been killed by some stragglers. Whatbecame of his children?" "That eldest lad went off to the Parliament army, and came swaggeringhere in his buff coat and boots like my Lord Protector himself, they sayhe has got a castle and lands in Ireland. Men must be scarce, say I, ifthey have had to make a gentleman of Jeph Kenton. " "And the rest?" "Well, sir, I'm afraid that poor lad, Stead, is in poor plight. Youmind, he was always a still, steady, hard-working lad, and when hisfather was killed, and his house burnt, and his brother ran away, theway he and his sister turned to was just wonderful. They went to livein an old hut in the gulley down there, and they have made the place sotidy as it does your heart good to look at it. They bred up the youngones, and the younger girl is well married to one of the Squire'sfolks, and everyone respected them. But, as ill-luck would have it, somerobbers from Bristol seem to have got scent of their savings. Some saidthat the Communion Cup was hid somewhere there. " Mr. Holworth made an anxious sound of interrogation. "Well, I did see the corporal, when the Parliament soldiers were atBristol, flog Stead shamefully to know where it was, and never get aword out of him, whether or no; and as he was a boy who would never tella lie, it stands to reason he knew where they were. " "But how did anyone guess at his knowing?" asked Mr. Holworth. "His brother might have thought it likely, poor John being thick withyour reverence, " said Blane. "After that I thought, myself, that heought to give them up to Master Woodley, if so be he had them; but Icould never get a hint from him. The talk went that old Dr. Eales, youmind him, sir, before he died, came out and held a prelatist service, begging your pardon, sir, and that the things were used. Stead got intotrouble with Squire about it. " "But the robbers, how was that? You said he was hurt!" "Sore hurt, sir; and he has never got the better of it, though 'tis nighupon four years ago. There was a slip of a wench he picked up as a childafter the fight by Luck's mill, and bred up; a fair lass she grew upto look on, but a light-headed one. She went to service at Bristol, andpoor Stead was troth plight to her, hoped to save and build up the houseagain, never knowing, not he, poor rogue, of her goings on with thesailors and all the roistering lads about her master's house. 'Tis mybelief she put those rascals on the track, whether she meant it or not. Stead made what defence he could, stood up like a man against the odds, three to one, and got a shot in the side, so that he was like to diethen. Better for him, mayhap, if he had at once, for it has been noughtbut a lingering ever since, never able to do a day's work, though thatwench, Patience, and the young lad, Ben, have fought it out wonderfully. That I will say. " Mr. Holworth had tears in his eyes, and trembled with emotion. "The dear lad, " he said. "Where is he? I must go and see him. " "He bides in the gulley, sir; he has been there ever since thefarm-house was burnt. " Ere long Mr. Holworth was on his way to the gulley. What had been only aglade reaching from rock to stream, hidden in copsewood, was now an openspace trodden by cattle, with the actual straw-yard more in the rear, but with a goat tethered on it and poultry running about. It was a sunnyafternoon, and in a wooden chair placed so as to catch the warmth, withfeet on a stool, sat, knitting, a figure that Mr. Holworth at firstthought was that of an aged man; but as he emerged from the wood, andthe big dog sprang up and barked, there was a looking up, an instantsilencing of the dog, a rising with manifest effort, a doffing of thebroad-brimmed hat, and the clergyman beheld what seemed to him hisold Churchwarden's face, only in the deadly pallor of long-continuedillness, and with the most intense, unspeakable look of happiness andwelcome afterwards irradiating it, a look that in after years alwayscame before Mr. Holworth with the "Nunc dimittis. " Dropping the knitting, and holding by the chair, he stood trembling andquivering with gladness, while, summoned by the dog's bark, Patience, pail in hand, appeared on one side, and Ben, tall and slight, with hisflail, on the other. "My dear lad, " was all Mr. Holworth could say, as he took the thin, blanched hand, put his arm round the shoulders, and reseated Stead, still speechless with joy. Patience, curtseying low, came up anxiously, showing the same honest face as of old, though work and anxiety hadtraced their lines on the sun-burnt complexion, and Ben stood blushing, and showing his keener, more cultivated face, as the stranger turned togreet them so as to give Steadfast time to recover himself. "Oh! sir, but we are glad to see your reverence, " cried Patience. "Willyou go in, or sit by Stead? Ben, fetch a chair. " "And is this fine strapping fellow, the sickly babe that you were neverto rear, Patience?" "God has been very good to us, sir, " said Patience. "And this is best of all, " said Stead, recovering breath and speech. "Ithank Him that I have lived to see this day! It is all safe, sir. " "And you, you faithful guardian, you have suffered for it. " If it had not been for Blane's partial revelations, Mr. Holworth neverwould have extracted the full story of how for that sacred trust, Steadfast Kenton had endured threats and pain, and had foregone ease, prosperity, latterly happiness, and how finally it had cost him health, nay life itself, for he was as surely dying of the buccaneer's pistolshot, as though he had been slain on the spot. Long illness, with all the thought and reflection it had brought, had sofar changed and refined Stead that his awkward bashfulness and lack ofwords had passed from him, and when he saw the clergyman overcome withemotion at the thought of all he had undergone he said, "Never heed it, your reverence, it has come to be all joy to me to havehad a little to bear for the Master! 'Tis hard on Patience and Ben, butthey are very good to me; and being sick gives time for such comforts asGod sends me. It is more than all I could have had here. " "I am sure of that, my dear boy. I was not grieving that I gave youthe trust, but thinking what a blessed thing it is to have kept it thusfaithfully. " Two Sundays later, the Feast was again meetly spread in Elmwood Church, the Altar restored to its place, and all as reverently arranged as itcould yet be among the broken carved work. In some respects it was a mournful service, few there were who after thelapse of seventeen years even remembered the outlines of the old forms;and the younger people knew not when to kneel or stand. There werefew who could read, and even for those who could there were only fourPrayer-books in the church, the clergyman's, the clerk's, the Kentons', and one discovered by an old Elmwood servant. The Squire's familycame not; Goody Grace was dead, and though Rusha tried to instruct herhusband and her little girl, she herself was much at a loss. To Mr. Holworth it was almost like that rededication of the Temple whenthe old men wept at the thought of the glory of the former house, butthere were some on whom his eye rested with joy and peace. There wereBlane and his wife, good and faithful though ignorant; there were theold miller and his son, who had come all that distance since therehad as yet been no restoration in their church, and the goings on ofOriginal-Sin Hopkins and his friends had thoroughly disgusted them, andmade the old man yearn towards the church of his youth, and there wasthe little group of three, the toil-worn but sweet-faced sister, calmand restful, though watchful; the tall youth with thoughtful, earnest, awe-struck face, come for his first Communion, for which through thosemany years he had been taught to pray and long, and between them thewasted form and wan features lighted up with that wonderful radiancethat had come on them with the sense that the trust was fulfilled, onlyit was brighter, calmer, higher, than even at the greeting of the vicar. Did Steadfast see only the burnished gold of the Chalice and paten hehad guarded for seventeen years at the cost of toil, danger, suffering, love, and life itself? Did he not see and feel far beyond those outwardvisible signs in which others, who had not yet endured to the end, couldonly as yet put their trust by faith? Mr. Holworth, as he stood over him and saw the upturned eye, was sure itwas so. No doubt indeed Ben thought so too, but poor imaginative Benhad somehow fancied it would be with his brother as with the Kingwho guarded that other sacred Cup, and when all was over, was quitedisappointed that Stead needed his strong arm as much as ever, nay more, for on coming out into the air and sunshine a faintness and exhaustioncame on, and they had to rest him in the porch before he could move. "O Stead, I thought it would have healed you, " the lad said. Stead slightly smiled. "Healed? I shall soon be healed altogether, Ben, "he said. He had with great difficulty and very slowly walked to church, and Mr. Holworth wished him to come and rest at the Vicarage, but he wasvery anxious to get home, and after he had taken a little food, AndrewLuck offered to share with Ben and Rusha's husband the carrying him backbetween them on an elbow chair. This pleased him, and he looked up to Andrew and said, "You are in thesame mind as long ago?" "I never found anyone else I could lay my mind to, since my poor Kitty, "said Andrew. "She will come to you--soon, " said Stead. "She'll have a sore heart, butyou will be good to her. " "That I will. And little Bess and Kate shall come and tell her how theywant her. " Stead smiled and his lips moved in thankfulness. "And if Ben would come with her, " added Andrew, "I'd be a brother tohim. " "Parson wants Ben, " said Stead. "He says he can make a scholar of him, and maybe a parson, and it will not be so lonesome in the vicarage. " "And your farm?" "Rusha and her man take that. They have saved enough to build the house. Yes, all is well. It is great peace and thankfulness. " Patience returned with the cushions she had borrowed and they broughtSteadfast home, very much exhausted, and not speaking all the way. Perhaps the unusual motion and exertion had made the bullet change itsplace, for he hardly uttered another word, and that night, as he hadsaid to Ben, he was healed for ever of all his ills. The funeral sermon that Mr. Holworth preached the next Sunday, was onthe text so dear to all the loyal hearts who remembered the White King'scoronation text-- "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life. " THE END