CHAPTER XXV.
A SERMON IN STONE.
Now Sergeant Jakes was not allowed to chastise any boys on Sunday. Thismade the day hang very heavy on his hands; and as misfortunes never comesingle, the sacred day robbed him of another fine resource. For Mr.Penniloe would not permit even Muggridge, the pious, the sage, and theprim, to receive any visitors--superciliously called by the front-doorpeople "followers"--upon that blessed day of rest, when surely thesweeter side of human nature is fostered and inspirited, fromreading-desk and lectern, from gallery and from pulpit.
However even clergymen are inconsistent, as their own wives acknowledgeconfidentially; and Mr. Penniloe's lectures upon Solomon's Song--atreatise then greatly admired, as a noble allegory, by HighChurchmen--were not enforced at home by any warmth of practice. Thusstood the law; and of all offences upon the Sergeant's Hecatologue,mutiny was the most heinous; therefore he could not mutiny.
But surely if Mr. Penniloe could have received, or conceived, a germ ofthe faintest suspicion concerning this faithful soldier's alternativeson the afternoon of the Sabbath--as Churchmen still entitled it--hewould have thrown open every door of kitchen, back-kitchen, scullery,and even pantry to him, that his foot might be kept from so offending.Ay, and more than his foot, his breast, and arm--the only arm he had,and therefore leaving no other blameless.
It is most depressing to record the lapse of such a lofty character, sogallant, faithful, self-denying, true, austere, and simple--though someof these merits may be refused him, when the truth comes out--as, alas,it must. All that can be pleaded in his favour, is that ancient,threadbare, paltry, and (as must even be acknowledged) dastardlypalliation--the woman tempted him, and he fell! Fell from his brisk andjaunty mien, his noble indifference to the fair, and severity to theirlittle ones, his power of example to the rising age, and his pure-mindedloyalty to Thyatira, watered by rivers of tea, and fed by acres of breadand butter. And the worst of it was, that he had sternly resolved, withhaughty sense of right and hearty scorn of a previous slip towardsbacksliding, that none of this weakness should ever, even in a vision,come anigh him any more. Yet see, how easily this rigid man was woundround the finger of a female "teener"--as the Americans beautifullyexpress it!
He was sitting very sadly at his big black desk, one mild and melancholySabbath eve, with the light of the dull day fading out, and failing tomake facets from the diamonds of the windows, and the heavy school-clockticking feebly, as if it wished time was over: while shadows, that wouldhave frightened any other unmarried man in the parish, came in from thesilent population of the old churchyard, as if it were the haze ofanother world. A little cloud of smoke, to serve them up with their ownsauce, would have consoled the school-master; but he never allowed anysmoking in this temple of the Muses, and as the light waned he lit histallow candle, to finish the work that he had in hand.
This was a work of the highest criticism, to revise, correct, andarrange in order of literary merit all the summaries of the morningsermon prepared by the head-class in the school. Some of thesecompositions were of extreme obscurity, and some conveyed very strangedoctrinal views. He was inclined to award the palm to the following fineepitome, practical, terse, and unimpeachably orthodox--"The Sermon was,sir, that all men ort to be good, and never to do no wikked thingswhennever they can help it." But while he yet paused, with long quill inhand, the heavy oak door from the inner yard was opened very gently, anda slender form attired in black appeared at the end of the long andgloomy room.
Firm of nerve as he was, the master quailed a little at this unexpectedsight; and therefore it became a very sweet relief, when the visionbrightened into a living and a friendly damsel, and more than that avery charming one. All firm resolutions like shadows vanished; insteadof a stern and distant air and a very rigid attitude, a smile of delightand a bow of admiration betrayed the condition of his bosom.
That fair and artless Tamar knew exactly how to place herself to thevery best advantage. She stood on the further side of the candle, sothat its low uncertain light hovered on the soft curve of her cheeks,and came back in a flow of steady lustre from her large brown eyes. Sheblushed an unbidden tear away, and timidly allowed those eyes to restupon the man of learning. No longer was she the gay coquette, coyingwith frolic challenge, but the gentle, pensive, submissive maiden,appealing to a loftier mind. The Sergeant's tender heart was touched, upsprang his inborn chivalry; and he swept away with his strong right handthe efforts of juvenile piety, and the lessons of Holy Writ.
"Sergeant Schoolmaster, no chair for me;" Tamar began in a humble voice,as he offered his own official seat. "I have but a moment to spare, andI fear you will be so angry with me, for intruding upon you like this.But I am so--oh so unhappy!"
"What is it, my dear? Who has dared to vex you? Tell me his name, andalthough it is Sunday--ah just let me come across him!"
"Nobody, nobody, Sergeant Schoolmaster;" here she pulled out ahandkerchief, which a woman would have pronounced, at a glance, theproperty of her mistress. "Oh how shall I dare to tell you who it is?"
"I insist upon knowing," said the Sergeant boldly, taking the upperhand, because the maiden looked so humble; "I insist upon knowing who itis, this very moment."
"Then if I must tell, if you won't let me off," she answered with asweet glance, and a sweeter smile; "it is nobody else but Sergeant Jakeshimself."
"Me!" exclaimed the veteran; "whatever have I done? You know that Iwould be the last in the world to vex you."
"Oh it is because you are so fierce. And that of course is, because youare so brave."
"But my dear, my pretty dear, how could I ever be fierce to you?"
"Yes, you are going to cane my brother Billy, in the morning."
This was true beyond all cavil--deeply and beautifully true. TheSergeant stared, and frowned a little. Justice must allow no dalliance.
"And oh, he has got such chilblains, sir! Two of them broke onlyyesterday, and will be at their worst in the morning. And he didn't meanit, sir, oh he never meant it, when he called you an 'Old beast'!"
"The discipline of the school must be maintained." Mr. Jakes stroked hisbeard, which was one of the only pair then grown in the parish, (theother being Dr. Gronow's) for the growth of a beard in those days argueda radical and cantankerous spirit, unless it were that of a militaryman. Without his beard Mr. Jakes would not have inspired half theneedful awe; and he stroked it now with dignity, though the heartbeneath it was inditing of an _infra dig._ idea. "Unhappily he did it,Miss, in the presence of the other boys. It cannot be looked over."
"Oh what can I do, Sergeant? What can I do? I'll do anything you tellme, if you'll only let him off."
The Schoolmaster gave a glance at all the windows. They were well abovethe level of the ground outside. No one could peep in, without standingon a barrel, or getting another boy to give him a leg up.
"Tamar, do you mean what you say?" he enquired, with a glance of mingledtenderness and ferocity--the tenderness for her, the ferocity for herbrother.
"If you have any doubt, you have only got to try me. There can't be anyharm in that much, can there?" She looked at him, with a sly twinkle inher eyes, as much as to say--"Well now, come, don't be so bashful."
Upon that temptation, this long-tried veteran fell from his loyalty andhigh position. He approached to the too fascinating damsel, took herpretty hand, and whispered something through her lovely curls. Alas, thefinal word of his conditions of abject surrender was one which rhymedwith "this," or "Miss," or--that which it should have been requitedwith--a hiss. Oh Muggridge, Muggridge, where were you? Just stirring acup of unbefriended tea, and meditating on this man's integrity!
"Oh you are too bad, too bad, Sergeant!" exclaimed the young girlstarting back, with both hands lifted, and a most becoming blush. "Inever did--I never could have thought that you had any mind for suchtrifles. Why, what would all the people say, if I were only to mentionit?"
"Nobody would believe you;" replied Mr. Jakes, to quench that i
dea,while he trembled at it; adding thereby to his iniquities.
"Well perhaps they wouldn't. No I don't believe they would. Buteverybody likes a bit of fun sometimes. But we won't say another wordabout it."
"Won't we though? I have got a new cane, Tamar--the finest I ever yethandled for spring. The rarest thing to go round chilblains. Bargain, orno bargain, now?"
"Bargain!" she cried; "but I couldn't do it now. It must be in a morequieter place. Besides you might cheat me, and cane him after all. Oh itis too bad, too bad to think of. Perhaps I might try, next Sunday."
"But where shall I see you next Sunday, my dear? 'Never put off; itgives time for to scoff.' Give me one now, and I'll stick to it."
"No, Sergeant Jakes. I don't like to tell you, and my father would be soangry. But I don't see what right he has to put me in there. And oh, itis so lonely! And I am looking out for ghosts, and never have a happymouthful. That old woman will have something to answer for. But it's nogood to ask me, Sergeant; because--because ever so many would be afterme, if they only got a hint of it."
This of course was meant to stop him; but somehow it had quite theopposite effect; and at last he got out of the innocent girl the wholetale of her Sunday seclusion. The very best handmaid--as everybodyknows--will go through the longest and bitterest bout of soaking,shivering, freezing, starving, dragging under wheels, and being blown upto the sky, rather than forego her "Sunday out." Miss Tamar Haddon wasentitled always to this Sabbath travail; and such was her courage thathave it she would, though it blew great guns, and rained cats and dogs.
Now, her father, as may have been said before, was Walter Haddon of the_Ivy-bush_, as respectable a man as ever lived, and very fond of hischildren. This made him anxious for their welfare; and welfare meaningeven then--though not so much as now it does--fair wealth, and farewellpoverty, Mr. Haddon did his best to please his wealthy aunt, a childlesswidow who lived at Perlycombe. For this old lady had promised to leaveher money among his children, if they should fail to offend her. In thatmatter it was a hundredfold easier to succeed, than it was to fail; forher temper was diabolical. Poor Tamar, being of flippant tongue, hadalready succeeded fatally; and the first question Mrs. Pods alwaysasked, before she got out of her pony-carriage, was worded thus--"Isthat minx Tamar in the house?"
Whatever the weather might be, this lady always drove up with her lamepony to the door of the _Ivy-bush_, at half-past one of a Sunday,expecting to find a good hot dinner, and hot rum and water afterwards.For all this refreshment she never paid a penny, but presented thechildren with promises of the fine things they might look forward to.And thus, like too many other rich people, she kept all her capital toherself, and contrived to get posthumous interest upon it, on the faithof contingent remainders.
Now Tamar's mother was dead; and her father knowing well that all theyoung sparks of the village were but as the spoils of her bows andbonnets, had contrived a very clever plan for keeping her clear of thatbitter Mrs. Pods, without casting her into the way of yokel youths, andspry young bachelors of low degree. At the back of his hostelry stoodthe old Abbey, covered with great festoons of ivy, from which the Innprobably took its name; and the only entrance to the ruins was by thearched gateway at the end of his yard, other approaches having beenwalled up; and the key of the tall iron gate was kept at this Inn forthe benefit of visitors.
The walls of the ancient building could scarcely be seen anywhere forthe ivy; and the cloisters and roofless rooms inside were overgrown withgrass and briars. But one large chamber, at the end of a passage, stillretained its vaulted ceiling, and stone pavement scarred with age.Perhaps it had been the refectory, for at one side was a deep fireplace,where many a hearty log had roared; at present its chief business wasto refresh Miss Tamar Haddon. A few sticks kindled in the old fireplace,and a bench from the kitchen of the Inn, made it a tolerablekeeping-room, at least in the hours of daylight; though at night thebold Sergeant himself might have lacked the courage for sound slumberthere.
To this place was the fair Tamar banished, for the sake of the moneybagsof Mrs. Pods, from half-past one till three o'clock, on her Sundayvisits to the _Ivy-bush_. Hither the fair maid brought her dinner,steaming in a basin hot, and her father's account-book of roughjottings, which it was her business to verify and interpret; for, as isthe duty of each newer generation, she had attained to higher standardof ennobling scholarship.
In a few words now she gave the loving Sergeant a sketch of thistime-serving policy, and her exile from the paternal dinner-table, whicharoused his gallant wrath; and then she told him how she had discoveredentrance unknown to her father, at a spot where a thicket of sycamores,at the back of the ruins, concealed a loop-hole not very difficult toscale. She could make her escape by that way, if she chose, after herfather had locked her in, if it were not for spoiling her Sunday frock.And if her father went on so, for the sake of pleasing that ugly oldfrump, she was blest if she would not try that plan, and sit on theriver bank far below, as soon as the Spring dried up the rubbish. But ifthe Sergeant thought it worth his while, to come and afford her a littlegood advice, perhaps he might discover her Sunday hat waving among theivy.
This enamoured veteran accepted tryst, with a stout heart, but frailconscience. The latter would haply have prevailed, if only the wind hadthe gift of carrying words which the human being does not utter, butthinks and forms internally. For the sly maid to herself said this,while she hastened to call her big brother Watty, to see her safe backto Walderscourt.
"What a poor old noodle! As if I cared twopence, how much he whacksBilly! Does he think I would ever let him come anigh me, if it wasn't toturn him inside out? Now if it were Low Jarks, his young brother, thatwould be quite another pair of shoes."
On the following Sunday it was remarked, by even the less observantboys, that their venerated Master was not wearing his usual pair ofblack Sunday breeches, with purple worsted stockings showing a wiry andmuscular pair of legs. Strange to say, instead of those, he had hissecond best small-clothes on, with dark brown gaiters to the knee, and apair of thick laced shoes, instead of Sunday pumps with silk rosettes.So wholly unversed in craft, as yet, was this good hero of a hundredfights. Thyatira also marked this change, with some alarm and wonder;but little dreamed she in her simple faith of any rival Delilah.
Mr. Penniloe's sermon, that Sunday morning, was of a deeply moving kind.He felt that much was expected of him, after his visit to London; wherehe must have seen the King and Queen, and they might even have set eyeson him. He put his long-sight glasses on, so that he could see anybodythat required preaching at; and although he was never a cushion-thumper,he smote home to many a too comfortable bosom. Then he gave them thesoft end of the rod to suck, as a conscientious preacher always does,after smiting hip and thigh, with a weapon too indigenous. In a word, itwas an admirable sermon, and one even more to be loved than admired,inasmuch as it tended to spread good-will among men, as a river that hasits source in heaven.
Sergeant Jakes, with his stiff stock on, might be preached at for ever,without fetching a blink. He sat bolt upright, and every now and thenflapped the stump of his left arm against his sound heart, not with anyeagerness to drive the lesson home, but in proof of cordial approbationof hits, that must tell upon his dear friends round about. One cutespecially was meant for Farmer John; and he was angry with thatthick-skinned man, for staring at another man, as if it were for him.And then there was a passage, that was certain to come home to his ownbrother Robert, who began to slaughter largely, and was taking quitemoney enough to be of interest to the pulpit. But everybody presentseemed to Jakes to be applying everything to everybody else--adisinterested process of the noblest turn of thought.
However those who have much faith--and who can fail to have some?--inthe exhortations of good men who practise their own preaching, wouldhave been confirmed in their belief by this man's later conduct.Although the body of the church had been reopened for some weeks now,with the tower-arch finished and the south wall rebuilt, yet there
weremany parts still incomplete, especially the chancel where the finestone screen was being erected as a reredos; and this still remained inthe builder's hands, with a canvas partition hiding it.
When the congregation had dispersed, Mr. Jakes slipped in behind thatpartition, and stood by a piece of sculpture which he always hadadmired. In a recess of the northern wall, was a kneeling figure in purewhite marble of a beautiful maiden claimed by death on the very eve ofher wedding-day. She slept in the Waldron vaults below; while here thecalm sweet face, portrayed in substance more durable than ours, spokethrough everlasting silence of tenderness, purity, and the more exaltedlove.
The Sergeant stood with his hard eyes fixed upon that tranquilcountenance. It had struck him more than once that Tamar's face wassomething like it; and he had come to see whether that were so. He foundthat he had been partly right, but in more important matters wrong. Inprofile, general outline, and the rounding of the cheeks, there was amanifest resemblance. But in the expression and quality of the faces,what a difference! Here all was pure, refined and noble, gentle, placid,spiritual. There all was tempting, flashing, tricksome, shallow,earthly, sensuous.
He did not think those evil things, for he was not a physiognomist; butstill he felt the good ones; and his mind being in the bettertone--through commune with the preacher's face, which does more than thewords sometimes, when all the heart is in it--the wonted look offirmness, and of defiance of the Devil, returned to his own shrewdcountenance. The gables of his eyebrows, which had expanded and grownshaky, came back to their proper span and set; he nodded sternly, as ifin pursuit of himself with a weapon of chastisement; and his mouthclosed as hard as a wrench-hammer does, with the last turn of the screwupon it. Then he sneered at himself, and sighed as he passed the emptygrave of his Colonel--what would that grand old warrior have thought ofthis desertion to the enemy?
But ashamed as he was of his weak surrender and treachery to hiscolours, his pride and plighted word compelled him to complete hisenterprise. The Abbey stood near the churchyard wall, but on that sidethere was no entrance; and to get at the opposite face of the buildings,a roundabout way must be taken; and Jakes resolved now that he wouldnot skulk by the lower path from the corner, but walk boldly across themeadow from the lane that led to Perlycombe. This was a back way with nohouse upon it, and according to every one's belief here must have lurkedthat horse and cart, on the night of that awful outrage.
Even to a one-handed man there was no great difficulty in entering oneof the desolate courts, by the loophole from the thicket; and there hemet the fair recluse in a manner rather disappointing to her. Not thatshe cared at all to pursue her light flirtation with him, but that hervanity was shocked, when he failed to demand his sweet reward. And hecalled her "Miss Haddon," and treated her with a respect she did notappreciate. But she led him to her lonely bower, and roused up the firefor him, for the weather was becoming more severe, and she rallied himon his clemency, which had almost amounted to weakness, ever since heallowed her brother Billy to escape.
"Fair is fair, Miss;" the Master answered pensively. "As soon as youbegin to let one off, you are bound to miss the rest of them."
"Who have they got to thank for that? I am afraid they will never know,"she said with one of her most bewitching smiles, as she came and satbeside him. "Poor little chaps! How can I thank you for giving them sucha nice time, Sergeant?"
The veteran wavered for a moment, as that comely face came nigh, and theglossy hair she had contrived to loosen fell almost on his shoulders.She had dressed herself in a killing manner, while a lover's knot ofmauve-coloured ribbon relieved the dulness of her frock, and enhancedthe whiteness of her slender neck. But for all that, the Sergeant wasnot to be killed, and his mind was prepared for the crisis. He glancedaround first, not for fear of anybody, but as if he desired witnesses;and then he arose from the bench, and looked at this seductive maiden,with eyes that had a steady sparkle, hard to be discomfited by any stormof flashes.
"Tamar," he said, "let us come to the point. I have been a fool; and youknow it. You are very young; but somehow you know it. Now have youmeant, from first to last, that you would ever think of marrying me?"
It never should have been put like that. Why you must never say a word,nor use your eyes except for reading, nor even look in yourlooking-glass, if things are taken in that way.
"Oh Sergeant, how you frighten me! I suppose I am never to smile again.Who ever dreamed of marrying?"
"Well, I did;" he answered with a twinkle of his eyes, and squaring ofhis shoulders. "I am not too old for everybody; but I am much too oldfor you. Do you think I would have come here else? But it is high timeto stop this fun."
"I don't call it fun at all;" said Tamar, fetching a little sob offright. "What makes you look so cross at me?"
"I did not mean to look cross, my dear." The Sergeant's tender heart wastouched. "I should be a brute, if I looked cross. It is the way the Lordhas made my eyes. Perhaps they would never do for married life."
"That's the way all of them look," said Tamar; "unless they geteverything they want. But you didn't look like that, last Sunday."
"No. But I ought. Now settle this. Would you ever think of marrying me?"
"No. Not on no account. You may be sure of that. Not even if you wasdipped in diamonds." The spirit of the girl was up, and her truevulgarity came out.
"According to my opinion of you, that would make all the difference;"said the Sergeant, also firing up. "And now, Miss Haddon, let us say'Good-bye.'"
"Let me come to myself, dear Sergeant Jakes. I never meant to be rude toyou. But they do court me so different. Sit down for a minute. It is solonely, and I have heard such frightful things. Father won't be comingfor half an hour yet. And after the way you went on, I am so nervous.How my heart goes pit a pat! You brave men cannot understand suchthings."
At this moving appeal, Mr. Jakes returned, and endeavoured to allay herterrors.
"It is all about those dreadful men," she said; "I cannot sleep at nightfor thinking of them. You know all about them. If you could only tell mewhat you are doing to catch them. They say that you have found out wherethey went, and are going to put them in jail next week. Is it true?People do tell such stories. But you found it all out by yourself, andyou know all the rights of it."
With a little more coaxing, and trembling, and gasping, she contrivedto get out of him all that he knew, concerning the matter to the presenttime. Crang had identified the impressions as the footmarks of thedisabled horse; and a search of the cave by torchlight showed that itmust have been occupied lately. A large button with a raised rim, suchas are used on sailors' overalls, had been found near the entrance, andinside were prints of an enormous boot, too big for any man inPerlycross. Also the search had been carried further, and the tracks ofa horse and a narrow-wheeled cart could be made out here and there,until a rough flinty lane was come to, leading over the moors to theHoniton road. All these things were known to Dr. Fox, and most of themto Mr. Penniloe, who had just returned from London, and the matter wasnow in skilful hands. But everything must be kept very quiet, or thechance of pursuing the clue might be lost.
Tamar vowed solemnly that she would never tell a word; and away went theSergeant, well pleased with himself, as the bells began to ring for theafternoon service.