CHAPTER XIII.
THE LAW OF THE LAND.
One comfort there was among all this trouble, and terror, andperplexity--little _Jess_ was not dead, as reported; nor even inclinedto die, just at present. It was true that she had been horribly slashedwith a spade, or shovel, or whatever it might have been; and had madeher way home on three legs by slow stages, and perhaps with many afainting fit. But when she had brought her evil tidings, and thrown downher staunch little frame to die, at the spot where she was wont to meether master, it happened that Mr. Sharland crossed the garden from thestables. This was a Veterinary Surgeon, full of skill, and large ofheart, awake to the many pangs he caused in systems finer than thehuman, and pitiful to the drooping head, and the legs worn out in man'sservice. In a moment he had gathered up the story of poor _Jess_, and hesaid, "if any dog deserves to be saved, it is this faithful littledear."
Then he pulled off his coat, and tucked up his sleeves, and pronouncedwith a little pomposity--for a good man should make his impression--
"Deep cut across the humerus. Compound fracture of the ulna. Will neverdo much with that limb again. But if the little thing is only half assagacious as she is faithful, and pyretic action does not supervene, weshall save her life; and it is worth saving."
_Jess_ licked his hand, as if she understood it all, and resignedherself to human wisdom. And now she had a sweet bed in a basket, airyand buoyant, yet proof against cold draughts; and there she wasdelighted to receive old friends, with a soft look of gratitude in largeblack eyes, and a pretty little quiver of the tail too wise to wag, forfear of arousing their anxiety. _Pixie_, the pug, had many qualms ofjealousy, as well as some pangs of deep interest--for what dog, howeverhealthy, could feel certain in his heart that he might not be reduced tothe same condition? And he was apt to get a human kick, when he pressedhis kind enquiries.
But upon the loftier level of anthropic interests, less of harmonyprevailed, and more of hot contention. The widowed lady of the house hadfelt her loss intensely; and with the deeper pain, because her generousnature told her of many a time when she had played a part a little overthe duty of a loyal wife. Her strong will, and rather imperious style,and widely different view-point, had sometimes caused slightdisagreements between the Spanish lady and the English squire; and nowshe could not claim the pleasure of having waived herself to please him.But she had the sorrow of recalling how often she had won the victory,and pushed it to the utmost, and how seldom she had owned herself in thewrong, even when she had perceived it. A kinder and a nobler husband nowoman was ever blessed with; and having lost him, how could she helpdisparaging every other man, as a tribute to his memory?
Even with her daughter Inez, she was frequently provoked, when she sawthe tears of filial love, or heard the unconsidered sigh. "What is herloss, compared with mine?" "But for this child, he would have loved memore." "Shallow young creature, like a tinkling zither--she will start anew tune, in a week or two." Such were her thoughts; but she kept themto herself, and was angry with herself for forming them.
So it may be supposed, what her fury was, or rather her boundless andeverlasting rage, when she heard of the miscreant villainy, which couldnot long be concealed from her. Her favourite maid, Tamar Haddon, wasthe one who first let fall an unwary word; and that young womanreceived a shock, which ought to have disciplined her tongue for life.With a gaze, and a gesture, there was no withstanding, her mistress toreout of her everything she knew, and then with a power of self-controlwhich few men could have equalled, she ordered the terrified damselaway, and sat down alone, to think miserably.
How long she stayed thus, was unknown to any; for Tamar made off withall speed to her room, and was seized with a fit of hysterics. But thelady's only movement was to press one hand upon her labouring heart. Byand by she rose, and unlocked the door of her little oratory--a placenot very often favoured with her presence. There she took down acrucifix of ivory--not the Indian, but the African, which hardens andwhitens with the lapse of years, though green at first, as truth is--andshe set it upon a velvet shelf, and looked at it without much reverence.In the stormy times, when Spain was writhing under the heel of aninfidel, her daughters lost their religious grounding, and gained fiercepatriotism. "My Country is my God," was a copy set in schools.
At first she looked with scorn and pity at such meek abandonment. Whathad her will and heart to do with mild submission, drooping head, andbrow of wan benignity? But the sculptor had told more than that. He hadfilled the sufferer's face with love, and thrilled the gaze of deathwith sweet celestial compassion. So well had the human hand conveyed thetender heart of heaven.
The sting of mortal injuries began to grow less venomous. The rancorousglare was compelled to soften, and suffused with quivering tears. Shehad come to have a curse attested, and a black vow sanctified; butearthly wrong and human wrath were quelled before the ruth of heaven,and conquest of the Tortured One. She fell upon her knees, and laid herhands upon the spike-torn feet; and her face became that of a strickenwoman, devoted to sorrow, but not to hate.
How long this higher influence would last is quite another point,especially with a woman. But it proved at least that she was notaltogether narrow, and hard, and arrogant. Then she went to her bed, andwept for hours; and perhaps her reason was saved thereby. At any rateher household, which had been in wretched panic, was saved from thefearful outburst, and the timid cast-up of their wages.
On the following morning, she was calm, at least to all outwardsemblance, and said not a word to any one of the shock she had sufferedyesterday. But as soon as business-time allowed, she sent for Mr.Webber, the most active member of the steady firm, in which her husbandhad placed confidence. He was good enough to come at once, although, ashe told his nervous wife, he would have preferred an interview with thelioness, who had just escaped from a travelling menagerie.
But like all other terrors, when confronted, this proved tolerablydocile; and upon his return he described this foreign lady's majesticbeauty, and angelic fortitude, in warmer terms than his wife thoughtneedful over his own mahogany. After recounting all he knew, and beingheard with patience, he had taken instructions which he thoughtsagacious and to the purpose, for they were chiefly of his ownsuggestion.
Now this Mr. Webber was a shrewd, as well as a very upright man, but ofrather hasty temperament, and in many of his conclusions led astray,without the least suspicion of it, by prejudices and private feelings.One of his favourite proverbs was--"A straw will show how the windblows;" and the guiding straw for him was prone to float on the breathof his own favour. Although he knew little of Dr. Fox, he was partlyprepared to think ill of him, according to the following inclination.
Waldron Webber, the lawyer's eldest son, and Godson of the brave SirThomas, had shown no capacity for the law, and little for anything else,except a good thumb for the gallipots. Good friends said--"What a doctorhe will make!" and his excellent mother perceived the genius, and felthow low it would be to lament that such gifts were seldom lucrative,till half the life is over. So the second son took to the ruler, and theelder to the pestle, instruments of equal honour, but of differentvalue. And Waldron, although his kind father had bought him a snuglittle practice at Perlycombe, was nibbling at the bottom of the bag athome, while his brother cast in at the top of it.
Why was this? Simply because young Fox, the heir of a wealthy family,had taken it into his wicked head to drop down from the clouds atPerlycross. It was true that he had bought a practice there; but hispredecessor had been a decent fellow, observing the rules of theProfession. If a man could not pay for it, let him not be ill; or at anyrate go to the workhouse, and be done for in the lump. But thisinterloper was addicted to giving tick unlimited, or even remission ofall charges, and a cure--when nature would not be denied--without thepatient paying for it, if he had no money. One thing was certain--thiscould not last long. But meanwhile a doctor of common sense wascompelled to appeal to his parents.
"All cannot be right," Mr. Webber senior
had observed with emphasis,when he heard the same tale from his son's bosom friend, Jervis Jacksonof Perliton; "there are certain rules, my dear, essential to theexistence of all sound Professions; and one of the most fundamental is,to encourage nobody who cannot pay. This Fox must be a sadly Radicalyoung man, though his family is most respectable. Mischief will come ofit, in my firm opinion."
The mischief was come, and in a darker form than the soundest lawyercould anticipate. Mr. Webber lamented it; and his wife (who had seenJemmy waltzing at a Taunton ball with one of her pretty daughters, andbeen edified with castles in the air) lifted up her hands, and refusedto listen to it; until she thought of her dear son. "If it is the willof God," she said, "we must accept it, Theodore."
But this resignation is not enough for an Attorney with a criminal casein hand. Lady Waldron had urged despatch; and he knew that she was notto be trifled with. He had taken the blacksmith's deposition, whichbegan as if his head were on the anvil, as well as Farmer John's, andChanning's, and that of Mr. Jakes the schoolmaster. And now it was cometo Monday night; and nothing had been heard of Fox.
But it was not so easy to know what to do. There was no Police-force asyet to be invoked with certainty of some energy, and theBow-Street-Runners, as they were called--possibly because they neverran--had been of no service in such cases, even when induced to takethem up. Recourse must be had to the ancient gear of Magistrate andconstable; for to move any higher authorities would require time andtravel. Strong suspicion there might be, but no strong chain ofevidence; for no connexion could be established (whatever might be theinference) between the occurrence at Susscot and the sacrilege atPerlycross.
Moreover, our ancient laws are generally rough, and brisk, andable-bodied to stick out bravely for the purse, but leave the person todefend itself. If it cannot do this after death, let it settle thequestion with its Maker; for it cannot contribute to the Realm, andbelongs to the Resurrection. This larger view of the matter will explainto the live content how it came to pass that the legislature (whileproviding, for the healthy use of anatomy, the thousands of criminalbodies despatched for the good of their choicer brethren) failed toperceive any duty towards those who departed this life in the fear ofGod, after paying their rates and taxes, for the term prescribed byHeavenly Statute. In a word, when the wicked began to fallshort--through clemency human or Divine--no man of the highestrespectability could make sure of what he left behind. Only, by theancient Common Law, to dig him up again, without a Faculty, wasindictable as a Misdemeanour.
Mr. Webber was familiar with all these truths, and obliged to be carefulof their import. If the theft of a sheep could be brought home to Fox,the proceeding would have been more simple, and the penalties farheavier. But, for his enemies, the social outrage was the thing to lookat. As it stood, there was small chance yet of saddling the culprit withlegal guilt; nevertheless if the tide of general opinion set againsthim, even the noblest medical science must fail to make head against it.And the first step was to give some public form to the heinousaccusation, without risk of enormous damages. Hence the application toMr. Mockham, under the name of Tapscott, as before related, and justlyrefused by that Magistrate.
Mr. Webber of course did not appear, nor allow his name to be quoted,knowing how small the prospect was of the issue of a warrant. But hisend was gained, for all who were present--including the Magistratehimself--left the place with dark and strong suspicion against theabsent Doctor. The question was certain now to be taken up by CountyJournals; whereupon the accused might well be trusted to do somethingfoolish, even if nothing more were learned from the stealthy watch kepton him.
There was much to justify this view; for Fox did many foolish things,and even committed blunders, such as none but the sagest of the sagecould avoid in his position. He was young, and hot of blood, and ragingat the sweet readiness of his friends--as such dastards dared to callthemselves--to accept the wicked charge against him, on such worthlessevidence. Now was the time for any generous nature to assert itself; forany one with a grain of faith, or even of common charity, to look him inthe face, and grasp his hand, and exclaim with honest anger--"Not a wordof those cursed lies do I believe. You are an honest fellow, Jemmy,whatever skulks and sneaks may say; and if any one says it in mypresence, down he goes like a dabchick."
Did any one do this, of all who had been so much obliged to him, or evenof those who without that had praised him in his prosperous days, andbeen proud of his acquaintance? It made his young heart cold withbitterness, and his kind eyes flash with scorn, when even young fellowsof healthy nature, jovial manners, and careless spirit, spied somethingof deepest interest across the road, as he came by; or favoured him witha distant nod, and a passing--"How doo, Doctor?" perhaps with anemphasis on the title, suggestive of dissection. It was enough to sourany man of even bright intelligence, and fair discrimination; for largeindeed is the heart of him, and heavenly his nature, who does not judgeof his brethren, by their behaviour to this brother.
Yet there were some few, who did behave to this poor brother, as if theyhad heard of the name of Christ, or deserved, in a way, to do so. Thesewere the very poor, who feel some gratitude for kindness; because itcomes not as a right, but a piece of rare luck to them. "'Tis nort to I,what the lad hath dooed, and I'll never belave a' dooed it. If it worn'tfor he, our little Johnny would be in Churchyard, instead of 's cot."So spake one or two; and if the reasoning was unsound, why then, so muchthe worse for reason.
But a fine young farmer, of the name of Gilham (a man who worked hardfor his widowed mother, at the North West end of the parish) cameforward like a brave Englishman, and left no doubt about his opinion.This young man was no clod-hopper; but had been at a Latin school,founded by a great High-Priest of the Muses in the woollen line, andworthy of the _infula_. Gilham had shown some aptness there, and powerin the resurrection of languages, called dead by those who would have nolife without them. His farm was known as the "White Post," because itbegan with a grand old proof of the wisdom of our ancestors. Upon themighty turnpike road from London even to Devonport, no trumpery stick offoreign fir, but a massive column of British oak had been erected insolid times, for the benefit of wayfarers. If a couple of them had beenhanged there, as tradition calmly said of them, it was only because theystopped the others, and owed them this enlightenment.
Frank Gilham knew little of Doctor Fox, and had never swallowed physic;which may have had something to do perhaps with his genial view of thesubject.
"A man is a man," he said to his mother, as if she were an expert in thematter; "and Fox rides as straight as any man I ever saw, when his horsehas not done too much parish-work. What should I do, if people wentagainst me like this, and wouldn't even stand up to their own lies? Thatold John Horner is a pompous ass; and Crang loses his head with a younghorse, by daylight. Where would his wits be, pulled out of bed at night,with a resurrection-man standing over him? I am thoroughly ashamed ofthe parish, mother; and though some of our land is under Lady Waldron, Ishall go and see Fox, and stick up for him."
So he did; and though he was a younger man than Jemmy, and made nopretence of even offering advice, his love of fair play, and finehealthy courage, were more than a houseful of silver and gold, or alegion of soldiers direct from heaven.