CHAPTER IV.
The trial of the two highwaymen and Arthur Bastow came off in duecourse. The evidence given was similar to that offered at Reigate, theonly addition being that Mr. Bastow was himself put into the box. Thecounsel for the prosecution said: "I am sorry to have to call you, Mr.Bastow. We all feel most deeply for you, and I will ask you only two orthree questions. Was your son frequently out at night?"
"He was."
"Did you often hear him return?"
"Yes; I seldom went to sleep until he came back."
"Had you any reason to suppose that others returned with him?"
"I never saw any others."
"But you might have heard them without seeing them. Please tell us ifyou ever heard voices."
"Yes, I have heard men's voices," the clergyman said reluctantly, in alow voice.
"One more question, and I have done. Have you on some occasions heardthe sound of horses' hoofs in your yard at about the time that your soncame in?"
Mr. Bastow said in a low voice: "I have."
"Had you any suspicion whatever of the character of your son'svisitors?"
"None whatever. I supposed that those with him were companions with whomhe had been spending the evening."
Mr. Bastow had to be assisted from the witness box, so overcome washe with the ordeal. He had not glanced at his son while giving hisevidence. The latter and his two fellow prisoners maintained throughoutthe trial their expression of indifference. The two highwaymen noddedto acquaintances they saw in the body of the court, smiled at variouspoints in the evidence, and so conducted themselves that there weremurmured exclamations of approval of their gameness on the part of thelower class of the public. The jury, without a moment's hesitation,found them all guilty of the offenses with which they were charged.Bastow was first sentenced.
"Young man," the judge said, "young as you are, there can be no doubtwhatever in the minds of anyone who has heard the evidence that you havebeen an associate with these men who have been found guilty of highwayrobbery accompanied by murder. I consider that a merciful view was takenof your case by the magistrates who committed you for trial, for theevidence of your heartbroken father, on whose gray hairs your conducthas brought trouble and disgrace, leaves no doubt that you have for sometime been in league with highwaymen, although not actually participatingin their crime. The words overheard by Mr. Thorndyke show that you wereprepared to hide their booty for them, and it is well for you thatyou were captured before this was done, and that no proceeds of otherrobberies were found in the house. The evidence of the Bow Streetofficers show that it had for some time been suspected that these menhad an accomplice somewhere in the neighborhood of Reigate, for althougharrested several times under circumstances forming a strong assumptionof their guilt, nothing was ever found upon them. There can now belittle, doubt who their accomplice was. Had you been an older manI should have sentenced you to transportation for life, but inconsideration of your youth, I shall take the milder course ofsentencing you to fifteen years' transportation."
The capital sentence was then passed in much fewer words upon the twohighwaymen. As they were leaving the dock Bastow turned, and in a clearvoice said to John Thorndyke, who had been accommodated with a seat inthe well of the court:
"I have to thank you, Thorndyke, for this. I will pay off my debt someday, you make take your oath."
"A sad case, Mr. Thorndyke--a sad case," the judge, who had greatlycomplimented the Squire on his conduct, said to him as he was disrobingafterwards. "I don't know that in all my experience I ever saw such ahardened young villain. With highwaymen it is a point of honor to assumea gayety of demeanor on such occasions; but to see a boy of eighteen,never before convicted, exhibiting such coolness and effrontery is quitebeyond my experience. I suppose his record is altogether bad?"
"Altogether," the Squire said. "His father has, during the last twoyears, been quite broken by it; he owned to me that he was in bodilyfear of the lad, who had on several occasions assaulted him, had robbedhim of his savings by means of forgery, and was so hopelessly bad thathe himself thought with me that the only possible hope for him wasto get him to enlist. I myself recommended the East India Company'sservice, thinking that he would have less opportunity for crime outthere, and that there would be a strong chance that either fever or abullet would carry him off, for I own that I have not the slightest hopeof reformation in such a character."
"I would have given him transportation for life if I had known allthis," the judge said. "However, it is not likely that he will evercome back again--very few of them do; the hulks are not the most healthyplaces in the world, and they have a pretty rough way with men who givethem trouble, as this young fellow is likely to do."
Mr. Bastow, as soon as he had given his evidence, had taken a hackneycoach to the inn where he and the Squire had put up on their arrival intown the evening before, and here, on his return, John Thorndyke foundhim. He was lying on his bed in a state of prostration.
"Cheer up, Bastow," he said, putting his hand upon the Rector'sshoulder. "The sentence is fifteen years, which was the very amount Ihoped that he would get. The more one sees of him the more hopelessit is to expect that any change will ever take place in him; and it isinfinitely better that he should be across the sea where his conduct,when his term is over, can affect no one. The disgrace, such as it is,to his friends, is no greater in a long term than in a short one. Hadhe got off with four or five years' imprisonment, he would have been aperpetual trouble and a source of uneasiness, not to say alarm; and evenhad he left you alone we should always have been in a state of dread asto his next offense. Better that he should be out in the colonies thanbe hung at Tyburn."
"How did he take the sentence?"
"With the same bravado he had shown all through, and as he went out ofthe dock addressed a threat to me, that, under the circumstances, I canvery well afford to despise. Now, if you will take my advice, you willdrink a couple of glasses of good port, and then go to bed. I will seeto your being awakened at seven o'clock, which will give us time tobreakfast comfortably, and to make a start at nine."
"I would rather not have the wine," the Rector said feebly.
"Yes, but you must take what is good for you. I have ordered up a bottleof the landlord's best, and must insist upon your drinking a couple ofglasses with me. I want it almost as much as you do, for the atmosphereof that court was enough to poison a dog. I have got the taste of it inmy mouth still."
With much reluctance the Rector accompanied him to the private sittingroom that the Squire had engaged. He sat down almost mechanically in aneasy chair. The Squire poured out the wine, and handed him a glass. Mr.Bastow at first put it to his lips without glancing at it, but he was aconnoisseur in wine, and the bouquet of the port appealing to his latentsenses, he took a sip, and then another, appreciatingly.
"The landlord said it was first rate, and he is not far wrong," JohnThorndyke remarked, as he set down his own glass.
"Yes, it is a fine vintage, and in perfect condition," Mr. Bastowagreed. "I have drunk nothing better for years, though you have somefine bins."
"I would take a biscuit, if I were you, before I took another glass,"the Squire said, helping himself from a plate on the table. "You havehad nothing to eat today, and you want something badly. I have a dish ofkidneys coming up in half an hour; they cook them well here."
The Rector ate a biscuit, mechanically sipped another glass of wine,and was even able to eat a kidney when they were brought up. AlthoughSeptember was not yet out, the Squire had a fire lighted in the room,and after the meal was over, and two steaming tumblers of punch wereplaced upon the table, he took a long pipe from the mantel, filled andlighted it, then filled another, and handed it to the Rector, at thesame time holding out a light to him.
"Life has its consolations," he said. "You have had a lot of troublesone way and another, Bastow, but we may hope that they are all over now,and that life will go more smoothly and easily with you. We had betterleave the
past alone for the present. I call this snug: a good fire, aclean pipe, a comfortable chair, and a steaming bowl at one's elbow."
The Rector smiled faintly.
"It seems unnatural--" he began.
"Not at all, not at all," the Squire broke in. "You have had atremendous load on your mind, and now it is lifted off; the thundercloudhas burst, and though damage has been done, one is thankful that it isno worse. Now I can talk to you of a matter that has been on my mind forthe last three weeks. What steps do you think that I ought to take tofind a successor for you? It is most important to have a man who willbe a real help in the parish, as you have been, would pull with onecomfortably, and be a pleasant associate. I don't want too young afellow, and I don't want too old a one. I have no more idea how to setabout it than a child. Of course, I could ask the Bishop to appoint, butI don't know that he would appoint at all the sort of man I want. Theliving is only worth 200 pounds a year and the house--no very greatcatch; but there is many a man that would be glad to have it."
"I have been thinking it over, too, Thorndyke, when I could bring mymind to consider anything but my own affairs. How would Greg do? He hasbeen taking duty for me since I could not do it myself. I know that heis a hard working fellow, and he has a wife and a couple of children;his curacy is only 70 pounds a year, and it would be a perfect godsend,for he has no interest in the Church, and he might be years withoutpreferment."
"I should think he would do very well, Bastow. Yes, he reads well, whichI own I care for that a good deal more than for the preaching; notthat I have anything to say against that. He gives sound and practicalsermons, and they have the advantage of being short, which is a greatthing. In the first place, it is good in itself, and in the second,specially important in a village congregation, where you know very wellevery woman present is fidgeting to get home to see that the pot is notboiling over, and the meat in the oven is not burnt. Yes, I will go downtomorrow afternoon and ask him if he would like the living. You weretalking of selling the furniture; how much do you suppose it is worth?"
"I don't suppose it will fetch above seventy or eighty pounds; it issolid and good, but as I have had it in use nearly forty years, it wouldnot go for much."
"Well, let us say a hundred pounds," the Squire said. "I will give you acheck for it. I dare say Greg will find it difficult to furnish, and hemight have to borrow the money, and the debt would be a millstone roundhis neck, perhaps, for years, so I will hand it over with the Rectory tohim."
So they talked for an hour or two on village matters, and the Squire waswell pleased, when his old friend went up to bed, that he had succeededin diverting his thoughts for a time from the painful subject that hadengrossed them for weeks.
"You have slept well," he said, when they met at breakfast, "I can seeby your face."
"Yes, I have not slept so soundly for months. I went to sleep as soonas my head touched the pillow, and did not awake until the chambermaidknocked at the door."
"That second glass of punch did it, Bastow. It is a fine morning; weshall have a brisk drive back. I am very glad that I changed my mind andbrought the gig instead of the close carriage."
In the afternoon the Squire drove into Reigate. He found the curate athome, and astonished and delighted him by asking him if he would likethe living of Crowswood. It came altogether as a surprise to him, forthe Rector's intentions to resign had not been made public, and it wassupposed in the village that he was only staying at the Squire's untilthis sad affair should be over. Greg was a man of seven or eight andtwenty, had graduated with distinction at Cambridge, but, havingno influence, had no prospects of promotion, and the offer almostbewildered him.
"I should be grateful indeed, Mr. Thorndyke," he said. "It would be aboon to us. Will you excuse me for a moment?"
And opening a door, he called for his wife, who was trying to keep thetwo children quiet there, having retired with them hastily when Mr.Thorndyke was announced.
"What do you think, Emma?" her husband said excitedly, as she came intothe room. "Mr. Thorndyke has been good enough to offer me the living ofCrowswood."
Then he recovered himself. "I beg your pardon, sir, for myunmannerliness in not first introducing my wife to you."
"It was natural that you should think of telling her the news first ofall," the Squire said courteously. "Madam, I am your obedient servant,and I hope that soon we shall get to know each other well. I considerit of great importance that the Squire of a parish and the Rector shouldwork well together, and see a great deal of each other. I don't knowwhether you are aware, Mr. Greg, that the living is worth 200 poundsa year, besides which there is a paddock of about ten acres, which issufficient for the keep of a horse and cow. The Rectory is a comfortableone, and I have arranged with Mr. Bastow that he shall leave hisfurniture for the benefit of his successor. It will include linen, sothat you will be put to no expense whatever in moving in. I have knownthese first expenses to seriously cripple the usefulness of a clergymanwhen appointed to a living."
"That is good of you indeed, Mr. Thorndyke," the curate said. "We havebeen living in these lodgings since we first came here, and it willindeed make matters easy to have the question of furniture so kindlysettled for us."
"Will your Rector be able to release you shortly?"
"I have no doubt that he will do that at once. His son has just leftOxford and taken deacon's orders; and the Rector told me the other daythat he should be glad if I would look out for another curacy, as hewanted to have his son here with him. He spoke very kindly, and saidthat he should make no change until I could hear of a place to suitme. His son has been assisting him for the last month, since I took theservices at Crowswood, and I am sure he would release me at once."
"Then I should be glad if you will move up as soon as possible to theRectory. I know nothing about the necessary forms, but I suppose thatMr. Bastow will send in his resignation to the Bishop, and I shallwrite and tell him that I have appointed you, and you can continue toofficiate as you have done lately until you can be formally inductedas the Rector. Perhaps you would not mind going round to your Rectorat once and telling him of the offer you have had. I have one or twomatters to do in the town, and will call again in three quarters ofan hour. I shall be glad to tell Mr. Bastow that you will come intoresidence at once."
On returning at the appointed time he found that the curate hadreturned.
"Mr. Pilkington was very kind, and evidently very pleased; hecongratulated me most warmly, and I can come up at once. We don't knowhow to thank you enough, Mr. Thorndyke."
"I don't want any thanks, I can assure you, Mr. Greg. Tomorrow I willsend a couple of women in from the village to get the place in order,and no doubt Mr. Bastow will want to take away a few things. He is goingto remain with me as tutor to my son. I am sure you and I will get onvery well together, and I only hope that your sermons will be no longerwhen you are Rector than they have been while you have been assistingus. Long sermons may do for a town congregation, but in my opinion theyare a very serious mistake in the case of a village one. By the way, Ithink it would be as well for you to get a servant here, and that beforeyou go up. Mr. Bastow's servant was an old woman, and in a case likethis I always think it is better not to take one's predecessor'sservant. She generally resents any change, and is always quoting howher last master had things. I mention this before you go, because sheis sure to ask to stay on, and it is much easier to say that you arebringing a servant with you than to have to tell her she is too old ortoo fat. Don't you think so, Mrs. Greg?"
"Yes, I think it will be much better, Mr. Thorndyke. Even if I cannothear of one likely to suit us permanently, I will take someone as a stopgap. One can easily change afterwards."
"The old woman will do very well," the Squire said. "She has two marrieddaughters in the village, and with a shilling or two from the parish shewill manage comfortably. At any rate we shall look after her, and I haveno doubt Mr. Bastow will make her an allowance."
Never were a pair more delighted than
Parson Greg and his wife when twodays later they took possession of their new home. Half a dozen womenhad been at work the day before, and everything was in perfect order. ToMrs. Greg's relief she found that the old servant had already gone, theSquire having himself informed her that Mrs. Greg would bring her ownmaid with her. Mr. Bastow said that he would allow her half a crown aweek as long as she lived, and the Squire added as much more, and as thewoman had saved a good deal during her twenty years' service with theRector, she was perfectly satisfied.
"It is a good thing that she should be content," the Squire said to Mr.Bastow. "She has a lot of connections in the village, and if she hadgone away with a sense of grievance she might have created a good dealof ill feeling against your successor, and I am very anxious that heshould begin well. I like the young fellow, and I like his wife."
"We are fortunate, indeed, Ernest," Mrs. Greg said the followingmorning, as with the children, two and three years old, they went outinto the garden; where the trees were laden with apples, pears, andplums. "What a change from our little rooms in Reigate. I should thinkthat anyone ought to be happy indeed here."
"They ought to be, Emma, but you see Mr. Bastow had trouble enough; andit should be a lesson to us, dear, to look very closely after the boysnow they are young, and see that they don't make bad acquaintances."
"From what we hear of the village, there is little fear of that; themischief must have begun before Mr. Thorndyke came down, when by allaccounts things had altogether gone to the bad here, and of course youngBastow must have had an exceptionally evil disposition, Ernest."
"Yes, no doubt; but his father could not have looked after him properly.I believe, from what I hear, that Bastow was so dispirited at hispowerlessness to put a stop to the state of things here, that, except toperform service, he seldom left the house, and the boy no doubt grew upaltogether wild. You know that I was in court on the second day of theexamination, and the young fellow's insolence and bearing astonishedand shocked me. Happily, we have the Squire here now to back us up, thevillage has been completely cleared of all bad characters, and is by allaccounts quite a model place, and we must do our best to keep it so."
The news of the change at the Rectory naturally occasioned a great dealof talk. At first there was a general feeling of regret that Mr. Bastowhad gone, and yet it was felt that he could not have been expected tostay; the month's experience that they had had of the new parson hadcleared the way for him. He and his wife soon made themselves familiarwith the villagers, and being bright young people, speedily madethemselves liked. The Squire and Mrs. Cunningham called the firstafternoon after their arrival.
"You must always send up if anything is wanted, Mr. Greg; wheneverthere is any illness in the village we always keep a stock of soups andjellies, and Mrs. Cunningham is almoner in general. Is there anythingthat we can do for you? If so, let me know without hesitation."
"Indeed, there is nothing, Mr. Thorndyke. It is marvelous to us comingin here and finding everything that we can possibly want."
"You will want a boy for your garden; and you cannot do better than takeyoung Bill Summers. He was with me for a bit last year, when the boy Ihave now was laid up with mumps or something of that sort, and he wasvery favorably reported on as being handy in the garden, able to milka cow, and so on. By the way, Mrs. Greg, I have taken the liberty ofsending down a cow in milk. I expect she is in your meadow now. I haveseven or eight of them, and if you will send her back when her milkfails I will send down another."
"You are too kind altogether, Mr. Thorndyke!" Mrs. Greg exclaimed.
"Not at all. I want to see things comfortable here, and you will find itdifficult to get on without a cow. I keep two or three for the specialuse of the village. I make them pay for it, halfpenny a pint; it isbetter to do that than to give it. It is invaluable for the children;and I don't think in all England you see rosier and healthier youngstersthan those in our schools. You will sometimes find milk useful forpuddings and that sort of thing for the sick; and they will appreciateit all the more than if they had to look solely to us for their supply."
"How is Mr. Bastow, sir?"
"He is better than could be expected. He himself proposed this morningthat my boy Mark should begin his studies at once; and, indeed, nowthat the worst is over and he has got rid of the load of care on hisshoulders, I hope that we shall have him bright and cheerful againbefore long."
Such was indeed the case. For some little time Mr. Bastow avoided thevillage, but John Thorndyke got him to go down with him to call uponMr. Greg, and afterwards to walk through it with him. At first he wenttimidly and shrinkingly, but the kindly greetings of the women he met,and the children stopping to pull a forelock or bob a courtesy as ofold, gradually cheered him up, and he soon got accustomed to the change,and would of an afternoon go down to the village and chat with thewomen, after he had ascertained that his successor had no objectionwhatever, and was, indeed, pleased that he still took an interest in hisformer parishioners. Mark was at first disappointed at the arrangement,for he had looked forward to going to a public school. His father,however, had no great trouble in reconciling him to it.
"Of course, Mark," he said, "there are advantages in a public school.I was never at one myself, but I believe that, though the discipline ispretty strict, there is a great deal of fun and sport, and you may makedesirable acquaintances. Upon the other hand, there are drawbacks. Inthe first place, the majority of the boys are sons of richer men thanI am. I don't know that that would matter much, but it would give youexpensive habits, and perhaps make you fonder of London life than Ishould care about. In the next place, you see, you would be at schoolwhen the shooting begins, and you are looking forward to carrying a gunnext year. The same with hunting. You know I promised that this year youshould go to the meets on your pony, and see as much of them as you can,and of course when you were at school you would only be able to indulgein these matters during your holidays; and if a hard frost set in, asis the case three times out of four, just as you came home, you would beout of it altogether.
"I must say I should like you to have a real love of field sports and tobe a good shot and a good rider. A man, however wide his acres may be,is thought but little of in the country if he is not a good sportsman;and, moreover, there is nothing better for developing health and musclesthan riding, and tramping over the fields with a gun on your shoulder;and, lastly, you must not forget, Mark, that one of my objects in makingthis arrangement is to keep Mr. Bastow with us. I am sure that unlesshe thought that he was making himself useful he would not be contentto remain here; and at his age, you know, it would be hard for him toobtain clerical employment."
"All right, father. I see that the present plan is the best, and that Ishould have but little sport if I went away to school. Besides, I likeMr. Bastow very much, and I am quite sure that I shan't get so manywhackings from him as I used to do from old Holbrook."
"I fancy not, Mark," his father said with a smile. "I am not againstwholesome discipline, but I think it can be carried too far; at anyrate, I hope you will be just as obedient to Mr. Bastow as if he alwayshad a cane on the table beside him."
Mark, therefore, went to work in a cheerful spirit, and soon found thathe made more progress in a week under Mr. Bastow's gentle tuition thanhe had done in a month under the vigorous discipline of his formermaster. Mr. and Mrs. Greg dined regularly at the Squire's once a week.
"Have you had that Indian servant of yours long, Mr. Thorndyke?" Mrs.Greg asked one day. "He is a strange looking creature. Of course, inthe daytime, when one sees him about in ordinary clothes, one does notnotice him so much; but of an evening, in that Eastern costume of his,he looks very strange."
"He was the servant of the Colonel, my brother," the Squire replied. "Hebrought him over from India with him. The man had been some years in hisservice, and was very attached to him, and had saved his life more thanonce, he told me. On one occasion he caught a cobra by the neck as itwas about to strike my brother's hand as he sat at table;
he carried itout into the compound, as George called it, but which means, he told me,garden, and there let it escape. Another time he caught a Thug, whichmeans a sort of robber who kills his victims by strangling beforerobbing them. They are a sort of sect who regard strangling as areligious action, greatly favored by the bloodthirsty goddess theyworship. He was in the act of fastening the twisted handkerchief, usedfor the purpose, round my brother's neck, when Ramoo cut him down. Theclosest shave, though, was when George, coming down the country, waspounced upon by a tiger and carried off. Ramoo seized a couple ofmuskets from the men, and rushed into the jungle after him, and comingup with the brute killed him at the first shot. George escaped with abroken arm and his back laid open by a scratch of the tiger's claws asit first seized him.
"So at George's death I took Ramoo on, and have found him a most usefulfellow. Of course, I was some little time before I became accustomedto his noiseless way of going about, and it used to make me jump whenI happened to look round, and saw him standing quietly behind me whenI thought I was quite alone. However, as soon as I became accustomed tohim, I got over all that, and now I would not lose him for anything; heseems to know instinctively what I want. He is excellent as a waiter andvalet; I should feel almost lost without him now; and the clumping aboutof an English man servant would annoy me as much as his noiseless way ofgoing about did at first. He has come to speak English very fairly. Ofcourse, my brother always talked to him in his own tongue; still, he hadpicked up enough English for me to get on with; now he speaks it quitefluently. When I have nothing whatever for him to do he devotes himselfto my little ward. She is very fond of him, and it is quite pretty tosee them together in the garden. Altogether, I would not part with himfor anything."
For some years life passed uneventfully at Crowswood. It was seldomindeed that the Squire's authority was needed to set matters right inthe village. The substitution of good farmers for shiftless ones insome of the farms, and the better cultivation generally, had givenmore employment; and as John Thorndyke preferred keeping two or threecottages shut up rather than have them occupied by men for whom no workcould be found, it was rare indeed that there were any complaintsof scarcity of work, except, indeed, on the part of the Rector, whodeclared that, what with the healthiness of the village and the absenceof want, his occupation, save for the Sunday duty, was a sinecure. Mr.Bastow was more happy and much brighter than he had been for many years.The occupation of teaching suited him, and he was able to make the workpleasant to his pupil as well as to himself; indeed, it occupied but asmall portion of the day, the amount of learning considered necessaryat the time not being extensive. A knowledge of Greek was thoughtquite superfluous for a country gentleman. Science was in its infancy,mathematics a subject only to be taken up by those who wanted to obtaina college fellowship. Latin, however, was considered an essential, and aknack of apt quotation from the Latin poets an accomplishment thatevery man who was a member of society or aspired to enter Parliamentwas expected to possess. Thus Mark Thorndyke's lessons lasted but two orthree hours a day, and the school term was a movable period, accordingto the season of the year and the engagements of the Squire and Mark. Inwinter the evening was the time, so that the boy shot with his father,or rode to the hounds, or, as he got older, joined in shooting partiesat the houses of neighbors.
In summer the work was done in the morning, but was not unfrequentlybroken. Mark went off at a very early hour to drive perhaps some twentymiles with his great chum, Dick Chetwynd, for a long day's fishing, orto see a main of cocks fought or a fight between the champions of twoneighboring villages, or perhaps some more important battle.
When Millicent Conyers was ten years old she came regularly into thestudy, sitting curled up in a deep chair, getting up her lessons whileMark did his, and then changing seats with him while he learned hisHorace or Ovid by heart. At this time she looked up greatly to him, andwas his companion whenever he would allow her to be, fetched and carriedfor him, and stood almost on a level with his dogs in his estimation.Five years later, when Mark was eighteen, these relations changedsomewhat. He now liked to have her with him, not only when about thehouse and garden, but when he took short rides she cantered along on herpony by his side. She was a bright faced girl, full of life and fun, andrejoicing in a far greater amount of freedom than most girls of her ageand time.
"It is really time that she should learn to comport herself morestaidly, instead of running about like a wild thing," Mrs. Cunninghamsaid, one day, as she and the Squire stood after breakfast looking outof the open window at Mark and Millicent.
"Time enough, my dear lady, time enough. Let her enjoy life while shecan. I am not in favor of making a young kitten behave like an oldtabby; every creature in nature is joyful and frolicsome while it isyoung. She is as tall and as straight as any of her friends of the sameage, and looks more healthy; she will tame down in time, and I dare saywalk and look as prim and demure as they do. I was watching them theother day when there was a party of them up here, and I thought thedifference was all to her advantage. She looked a natural, healthy girl;they looked like a set of overdressed dolls, afraid to move or to talkloud, or to stretch their mouths when they smile; very ladylike andnice, no doubt, but you will see Millicent will throw them into theshade when she is once past the tomboy age. Leave her alone, Mrs.Cunningham; a girl is not like a fruit tree, that wants pruning andtraining from its first year; it will be quite time to get her intoshape when she has done growing."
John Thorndyke had occasionally made inquiries of Mr. Bastow as tothe whereabouts of his son. At the time the sentence was passedtransportation to the American colonies was being discontinued, anduntil other arrangements could be made hulks were established as placesof confinement and punishment; but a few months later Arthur Bastowwas one of the first batch of convicts sent out to the penal settlementformed on the east coast of Australia. This was intended to be fixedat Botany Bay, but it having been found that this bay was open andunsheltered, it was established at Sydney, although for many years thesettlement retained in England the name of the original site. As thecondition of the prisoners kept in the hulks was deplorable, the Squirehad, through the influence of Sir Charles Harris, obtained the inclusionof Bastow's name among the first batch of those who were to sail forAustralia. Mr. Bastow obtained permission to see his son before sailing,but returned home much depressed, for he had been assailed with suchrevolting and blasphemous language by him that he had been forced toretire in horror at the end of a few minutes.
"We have done well in getting him sent off," the Squire said, when heheard the result of the interview. "In the first place, the demoralizingeffect of these hulks is quite evident, and it may be hoped that in anew country, where there can be no occasion for the convicts to be pentup together, things may be better; for although escapes from the hulksare not frequent, they occasionally take place, and had he gainedhis liberty we should have had an anxious time of it until he wasre-arrested, whereas out there there is nowhere to go to, no possibilityof committing a crime. It is not there as it was in the American colony.Settlements may grow up in time, but at present there are no whitemen whatever settled in the district; and the natives are, they say,hostile, and were a convict to escape he would almost certainly bekilled, and possibly eaten. No doubt by the time your son has servedhis sentence colonies will be established out there, and he may then bedisposed to settle there, either on a piece of land of which he could nodoubt take up or in the service of one of the colonists."