CHAPTER IX.
THE NARROW PATH.
"Now, Master Joe Crang," the Churchwarden said firmly, but not quite assternly as he meant to put it, because he met the blacksmith's eyescoming out of head; "how are we to know that you have not told us whatyou call a cock-and-bull affair? Like enough you had a very fearsomedream, after listening to a lot about those resurrection-men, andrunning home at night with the liquor in your head."
"Go and see my door ahanging on the hinges, master, and the mark of thebig man's feet in the pilm, and the track of wheels under the hedge, andthe blood from the poor nag's frog, and the splinter of shoe I pulledout with the pincers. But mercy upon me, I be mazed almost! I forgot Iput the iron in my pocket. Here it is?"
There it was sure enough, with dried blood on the jag of it, and thedint from a stone which had driven it, like a knife through anoyster-shell, into the quick. Such is the nature of human faith, thatthe men, handling this, were convinced of every word. They looked ateach other silently, and shook their heads with one accord, and gave theshivering blacksmith another draught of cider.
"Joe, I beg your pardon for doubting of your word," Farmer Johnanswered, as his own terror grew; "you have been through a most awesomenight. But tell us a thing or two you have left out. What way do youreckon the cart came from, and what was the colour, and was there anyname on it, and by the sound, which way did it drive off?"
"Ay, ay, he hath hit it," the clerk chimed in; "the finest head-piece inall the county belongeth to the hat of our Master John Horner."
"I'll tell 'e every blessed thing I knows, but one," Joe Crang wasgrowing braver, after handing horrors on; "can't say which way the cartcome from, because I was sound in my bed just then. But her hadn't beenthrough the ford, by the look of wheels, and so it seems her must havecome from Perlycrass direction. The colour was dark; I should say, areddish brown, so far as the light supported me. There was no name tosee; but I was on her near side, and the name would be t'other side ofcourse, if there wur one. Her drove off the way her was standing, Ibelieve; at least according to the sound of it; and I should have heardthe splash, if they had driven through the ford. Any other questions,master?"
"There may be some more, Joe, when I come to think. But I don't seeclearly how you could have been on the near side of horse, to the otherside of lane, in case they were coming from our village way."
"You'm right enough there, sir, if so be they hadn't turned. I could seeby the marks that they went by my shop, and then turned the poor horse,who was glad enough to stop; and then bided under hedge, in a sort ofdark cornder. Might a' come down the lane a' purpose like, seeking ofme to do the job. Seemeth as if they had heard of my shop, but notezactually where it waz."
"When you come to think of it, might be so." Farmer John was pretty safein his conclusions, because they never hurried him. "And if that was themeaning, we should all have reason to be very joyful, Joe. You cannotsee it yet; nor even Master Channing. But to my mind it proveth that thechaps in this queer job--mind, I don't say but what they may have beenrespectable, and driving about because they could afford it--but to mymind it showeth they were none of our own parish. Nor next parisheither, so far as reason goes. Every child in Perlycross, with legs togo on, knows afore his alphabet, where Susscot forge be."
"A' knoweth it too well, afore he gets his breeches. Three quarters of amile makes no odds to they childer, when they take it in their heads tocome playing with the sparks. And then their mothers after 'em, and allthe blame on me!"
"It is the way of human nature, when it is too young. Master Clerk, aword with you, before we go too far. Sit down upon this sack, Joe, andtry to eat a bit, while the wiser heads be considering."
The Churchwarden took the ancient clerk aside, and the blacksmithbeginning to be in better heart, renewed his faith in human nature uponbread and bacon.
Before he was sure that he had finished, the elder twain came back tohim, fortified by each other's sense of right, and high position in theparish. But Channing was to put the questions now, because they wereunpleasant, and he was poor.
"According to my opinion, Master Crang, you have told us everythingwonderful clear, as clear as if we had been there to see it, consideringof the time of night. But still there is one thing you've kept behind,causally perhaps, and without any harm. But Churchwarden Horner saith,and everybody knows the value of his opinion, that the law is such, thatevery subject of the King, whatever his own opinion may be, hath to giveit the upper course, and do no more harm than grumble."
"Big or little, old or young, male or female, no distinction, baronetor blacksmith;" said Farmer John, impressively.
"And therefore, Joe, in bounden duty we must put the question, and youmust answer. Who was the man according to your judgment, that kept soclose behind the horse, and jumped away so suddenlike, when the light ofyour fire shone into the lane? You said that the big man called him'Jem,' and you as good as told us that you certified his identity."
"I don't understand 'e, Master Channing. I never was no hand at bigwords." The blacksmith began to edge away, till the farmer took the oldman's staff, and hooked him by the elbow.
"No lies, Crang! You know me pretty well. I am not the man to standnonsense. Out of this potato-field you don't budge, till you've told uswho the short man was."
"A' worn't short, sir; a' worn't short at all--taller than I be, Ireckon; but nort to what the other were. Do 'e let go of me, FarmerHornder. How could I see the man, through the nag?"
"That's your own business, Crang. See him you did. Horse or no horse,you saw the man; and you knew him, and you were astonished. Who was he,if you please, Master Joseph Crang?"
"I can't tell 'e, sir, if I was to drop down dead this minute. And if Isaid ort to make 'e vancy that I knowed the gentleman, I must a' beenmazed as a drummeldrone."
"Oh, a gentleman, was it? A queer place for a gentleman! No wonder youcockle yourself to keep it dark. A five-pound note to be made out ofthat, Joe; if the officers of justice was agreeable."
"Master Hornder, you'm a rich man, and I be but a poor one. I wouldn'tlike to say that you behaved below yourself, by means of what I thought;without knowing more than vancy."
"Joe, you are right, and I was wrong;" the farmer was a just man,whenever he caught sight of it; "I was going to terrify of 'e, accordingto the orders of the evil-thinkers, that can't believe good, because itbain't inside theirselves. But I put it to you now, Joe, as a bit ofdooty; and it must tell up for you, in t'other way as well. For thesake of all good Christians, and the peace of this here parish, you beheld to bail by your own conscience, the Lord having placed you in thatposition, to tell us the full names of this man, gentleman or ploughboy,gipsy or home-liver."
The blacksmith was watching Mr. Horner's eyes, and saw not a shadow ofrelenting. Then he turned to the old man, for appeal. But the Clerk,with the wisdom of fourscore years, said,--"Truth goes the furthest. Whowould go to jail for you, Joe?"
"Mind that you wouldn't give me no peace; and that I says it against mywill, under fear of the King and religion"--Master Crang protested, witha twist, as if a clod-crusher went over him--"likewise that I look toyou to bear me harmless, as a man who speaketh doubtful of the sight ofhis own eyes. But unless they was wrong, and misguided by the Devil, whowere abroad last night and no mistake, t'other man--in the flesh, or outof it, and a' might very well a' been out of it upon such occasion, andwith that there thing behind him, and they say that the Devil doth getinto a bush, as my own grandmother zee'd he once--'twixt a Rosemarytree, which goes far to prove it, being the very last a' would havechosen----"
"None of that stuff," cried the Churchwarden sternly; and the Clerksaid, "No beating about the bush, Joe! As if us didn't know all thetricks of Zatan!"
"Well then, I tell 'e--it waz Doctor Jemmy Vox."
They both stood, and stared at him, as if to ask whether his brain wasout of order, or their own ears. But he met their gaze steadily, andgrew more positive, on the strength of being doubt
ed.
"If ever I zee'd a living man, I tell 'e that man, t'other side of thenag, waz Doctor Jemmy Vox, and no other man."
The men of Devon have earned their place (and to their own knowledge theforemost one) in the records of this country, by taking their time aboutwhat they do, and thinking of a thing before they say it. Shallow folk,having none of this gift, are apt to denounce it as slowness of brain,and even to become impatient with the sage deliberators.
Both Horner, and Channing, had excellent reasons for thinking veryhighly of Dr. Fox. The Churchwarden, because the doctor had saved thelife of his pet child Sally, under Providence; and the Clerk, inasmuchas he had the privilege of making the gentleman's trousers, for workingand for rustic use.
"Now I tell 'e what it is," said Farmer John, looking wrathful, becausehe saw nothing else to do, and Channing shrank back from doing anything;"either thou art a born liar, Joe; or the Devil hath gotten hold ofthee."
"That's the very thing I been afeared of. But would un let me spake thetruth, without contempt of persons?"
"Will 'e stand to it, Joe, afore a Justice of the Peace?" The Clerkthought it was high time to put in a word. "Upon occasion, I mean, andif the law requireth."
"There now! Look at that! The right thing cometh, soon or late;" criedthe persecuted blacksmith. "Take me afore Squire Walders himself--no,no, can't be, considerin' I were at his funeral yesterday--well take meafore Squire Mockham, if be fitty; and ax of him to putt, I don't carewhat it be, stocks, or dead water, or shears atop of me; and I'll tellun the very zame words I telled to thee. Can't hev no relief fromgospel, if the Passon's by the heels; shall have some relief by law, ifthe Lord hath left it living. No man can't spake no vairer than thatthere be."
This adjuration was of great effect. "To Zeiser shalt thou go?" repliedthe senior Churchwarden; "us have no right to take the matter out ofZeiser's hands. I was dwelling in my mind of that all along, and so wasyou, Clerk."
Mr. Channing nodded, with his conscience coming forward; and after somedirections at the upper end of field--where the men had been taking iteasily, and the women putting heads together--the two authorities setoff along the lane, with the witness between them, towards Perlycross.
But, as if they had not had enough of excitement to last them for amonth of thoughts and words, no sooner did they turn the corner at thefour-cross roads (where the rectory stands, with the school across theway), than they came full butt upon a wondrous crowd of people hurryingfrom the Churchyard.
"Never heard the like of it!" "Can't believe my eyes a'most." "Whateverbe us a'coming to?" "The Lord in heaven have mercy on the dead!" "Theblessed dead, as can't help theirselves!"
These, and wilder cries, and shrieks, from weeping women along thecottage-fronts; while in the middle of the street came slowly men withhot faces, and stern eyes. Foremost of all was Sergeant Jakes, with hishead thrown back, and his gray locks waving, and his visage as hard aswhen he scaled the ramparts, and leaped into the smoke and swordflash.Behind him was a man upon a foaming horse, and the strength of thevillage fiercely silent.
"Where be all agoing to? What's up now? Can't any of 'e spake a word ofsense?" cried Farmer John, as the crowd stopped short, and formed a ringaround him.
"High Jarks, tell un."
"Us was going to your house."
"Hold your tongue, will 'e, and let High Jarks speak."
The Sergeant took discipline, and told his tale in a few strong words,which made the Farmer's hair stand up.
"Let me see the proof," was all he said; for his brain was going round,being still unseasoned to any whirl fiercer than rotation of farm-crops.All the others fell behind him, with that sense of order which stillswayed the impulse of an English crowd; for he was now the foremostlayman in the parish, and everybody knew that the Parson was laid up.The gloom of some black deed fell upon them; and they passed along thestreet like a funeral.
"Clap the big gate to, and shoot the iron bar across. No tramping insidemore than hath been a'ready."
Master Horner gave this order, and it was obeyed, even by those whoexcluded themselves. At the west end, round the tower, was a group of"foreign" workmen--as the artisans from Exeter were called--but underorders from Mr. Adney they held back, and left the parish matter to thenatives thereof.
"Now come along with me, the men I call for;" commanded theChurchwarden, with his hand upon the bars, as he rose to the authorityconferred upon him; "and they be Sergeant Jakes, Clerk Channing, Bobthat hath ridden from Walderscourt, and Constable Tapscott, if so be hehath arrived."
"I be here, sure enough, and my staff along o' me--hath the pictur' ofHis Majesty upon him. Make way, wull 'e, for the Officer of the King?"
Then these men, all in a cold sweat more or less--except Sergeant Jakes,who was in a hot one--backing up one another, took the narrow path whichbranched to the right from the Churchyard cross, to the corner wherebrave Colonel Waldron had been laid.