CHAPTER XLIII.
TWO FINE LESSONS.
At the _Old Barn_ that afternoon, no sooner was young Sir Thomas gone,than remarkable things began to happen. As was observed in a previouscase, few of us are yet so vast of mind, as to feel deeply, and fairlyenjoy the justice of being served with our own sauce. Haply this is whysauce and justice are in Latin the self-same word. Few of us even are socandid, as to perceive when it comes to pass; more often is a world ofdifference found betwixt what we gave, and what we got.
Fox was now treated by Nicie's brother, exactly as he had treated Gilhamabout his sister Christie. He was not remarkably rash of mind--which wasever so much better for himself and friends--yet he was quick ofperception; and when his sister came and looked at him, and said withgentle sympathy--"Oh, Jemmy, has Sir Thomas forbidden your bans? Nowonder you threw his hat at him"--it was a little more than he coulddo, not to grin at the force of analogy.
"He is mad." He replied, with strong decision. Yet at the twinkle of hereyes, he wondered whether she held that explanation valid, in a likecase, not so very long ago.
"I have made up my mind to it altogether;" he continued, with the airmagnanimous. "It is useless to strive against the force ofcircumstances."
"Made up your mind to give up Nicie, because her brother disapproves ofit?" Christie knew well enough what he meant. But can girls bemagnanimous?
"I should think not. How can you be so stupid? What has a brother'sapproval to do with it? Do you think I care twopence for fifty thousandbrothers? Brothers are all very well in their way; but let them stick totheir own business. A girl's heart is her own, I should hope; and herhappiness depends on herself, not her brother. I call it a great pieceof impudence, for a brother to interfere in such matters."
"Oh!" said Christie, and nothing more. Neither did she even smile; butwent to the window, and smoothed her apron, the pretty one she wore,when she was mixing water-colours.
"You shall come and see him now;" said Jemmy, looking at the light thatwas dancing in her curls, but too lofty to suspect that inward laughtermade them dance. "It can't hurt him now; and my opinion is that it mighteven do him a great deal of good. I'll soon have him ready, and I'llsend his blessed mother to make another saucepanful of chicken broth.And Chris, I'll give you clear decks, honour bright."
"I am quite at a loss to understand your meaning." The mendaciousChristie turned round, and fixed her bright eyes upon his most grandly;as girls often do, when they tell white lies--perhaps to see how theyare swallowed.
"Very well then; that is all right. It will save a lot of trouble; andperhaps it is better to leave him alone."
"There again! You never seem to understand me, Jemmy! And of course, youdon't care how much it upsets a poor patient, never to see a change offaces. Of course you are very kind; and so is Dr. Gronow; and poor Mrs.Gilham is a most delightful person. Still, after being for all that timeso desperately limited--that's not the word at all--I mean, so to someextent restricted, or if you prefer it prohibited, from--from any littlechange, any sort of variety of expressions, of surroundings, of in fact,society----"
"Ah yes, no doubt! Of etcetera, etcetera. But go you on floundering,till I come back, and perhaps then you will know what you mean. Perhapsalso you would look a little more decent with your apron off," Dr. Foxsuggested, with the noble rudeness so often dealt out to sisters. "Besure you remind him that yesterday was Leap-year's day; and then perhapsyou will be able to find some one to understand you."
"If that is the case, you may be quite certain that I won't go nearhim."
But before very long she thought better of that. Was it just to punishone for the offences of another? With a colour like the first bud ofmonthly rose peeping through its sepals in the southern corner, she raninto the shrubbery--for there was nothing to call a garden--and gathereda little posy of Russian violets and wild primrose. Then she pulled herapron off, and had a good look at herself, and could not help knowingthat she had not seen a lovelier thing for a long time; and if lovewould only multiply it by two,--and it generally does so by athousand--the result would be something stupendous, ineffable, adorable.
Such thoughts are very bright and cheerful, full of glowing youth andkindness, young romance and contempt of earth. But the longer we plod onthis earth, the deeper we stick into it; as must be when the foot growsheavy, having no _talaria_. Long enduring pain produces a like effectwith lapse of years. The spring of the system loses coil, from being onperpetual strain; sad proverbs flock into the brain, instead of dancingverses.
Frank Gilham had been ploughed and harrowed, clod-crushed, drilled, andscarified by the most advanced, enlightened, and practical of allmedical high-farmers. If ever Fox left him, to get a breath of air,Gronow came in to keep the screw on; and when they were both worn out,young Webber (who began to see how much he had to learn, and what wasfor his highest interest) was allowed to sit by, and do nothing. Aconsultation was held, whenever the time hung heavily on their hands;and Webber would have liked to say a word, if it could have been utteredwithout a snub. Meanwhile, Frank Gilham got the worst of it.
At last he had been allowed to leave his bed, and taste a little of thefine Spring air, flowing down from Hagdon Hill, and bearing first waftof the furze-bloom. Haggard weariness and giddy lightness, and a vacantwondering doubt (as to who or what he was, that scarcely seemed worthpuzzling out), would have proved to any one who cared to know it, thathis head had lain too long in one position, and was not yet reconciledto the change. And yet it should have welcomed this relief, if virtuethere be in heredity, inasmuch as this sofa came from White Post farm,and must have comforted the head of many a sick progenitor.
The globe of thought being in this state, and the arm of actioncrippled, the question was--would heart arise, dispense with both, andhave its way?
For awhile it seemed a doubtful thing; so tedious had the conflict been,and such emptiness left behind it. The young man, after dreams mostblissful, and hopes too golden to have any kin with gilt, was reduced tobare bones and plastered elbows, and knees unsafe to go down upon. Butthe turn of the tide of human life quivers to the influence of heaven.
In came Christie, like a flush of health, rosy with bright maidenhood;yet tremulous as a lily is, with gentle fear and tenderness. Pity isakin to love--as those who know them both, and in their larger heartshave felt them, for our smaller sakes pronounce--but when the love isfar in front, and pauses at the check of pride; what chance has pride,if pity comes, and takes her mistress by the hand, and whispers--"try tocomfort him?" None can tell, who are not in the case, and those who areknow little of it, how these strange things come to pass. But sure it isthat they have their way. The bashful, proud, light-hearted maiden,ready to make a joke of love, and laugh at such a fantasy, was sooverwhelmed with pity, that the bashfulness forgot to blush, the pridecast down its frightened eyes, and the levity burst into tears. But ofall these things she remembered none.
And forsooth they may well be considered doubtful, in common with manyharder facts; because the house was turned upside down, before any morecould be known of it. There was coming, and going, and stamping of feet,horses looking in at the door, and women calling out of it; and such ashouting and hurrahing, not only here but all over the village, that thePerle itself might well have stopped, like Simoeis and Scamander, to askwhat the fish out of water were doing. And it might have stopped long,without being much wiser; so thoroughly everybody's head was flown, andeverybody's mouth filled with much more than the biggest ears found roomfor.
To put it in order is a hopeless job, because all order was gone togrit. But as concerns the _Old Barn_ (whose thatch, being used to quieteaves-droppings, had enough to make it stand up in sheaf again)--firstdashed up a young man on horseback, (and the sympathetic nag was halfmad also) the horse knocking sparks out of the ground, as if he hadnever heard of lucifers, and the man with his legs all out of saddle,waving a thing that looked like a letter, and shouting as if allliterature were comprised in viva voce.
Now this was young Farrant, theson of the Churchwarden; and really there was no excuse for him; for theFarrants are a very clever race; and as yet competitive examination hadnot made the sight of paper loathsome to any mind cultivatingself-respect.
"You come out, and just read this;" he shouted to the _Barn_ in general."You never heard such a thing in all your life. All the village ismadder than any March hare. I shan't tell you a word of it. You come outand read. And if that doesn't fetch you out, you must be a clam ofoysters. If you don't believe me, come and see it for yourselves. Onlyyou will have to get by Jakes, and he is standing at the mouth, with hisFrench sword drawn."
"In the name of Heaven, what the devil do you mean?" cried Fox, runningout, and catching fire of like madness, of all human elements the mostexplosive, "and this--why, this letter is the maddest thing of all! Aman who was bursting to knock me down, scarcely two gurgles of theclock ago! And now, I am his beloved Jemmy! Mrs. Gilham, do come out.Surely that chicken has been stewed to death. Oh, Ma'am, you have somesense in you. Everybody else is gone off his head. Who can make head ortail of this? Let me entreat you to read it, Mrs. Gilham. Farrant,you'll be over that colt's head directly. Mrs. Gilham, this is meant fora saner eye than mine. Your head-piece is always full ofself-possession."
Highly flattered with this tribute, the old lady put on her spectacles,and read, slowly and decorously.
"BELOVED JEMMY,
"I am all that you called me, a hot-headed fool, and a cad; and everything vile on the back of it. The doctors are the finest chaps alive, because they have never done harm to the dead. Come down at once, and put a bar across, because Jakes must have his supper. Perlycross folk are the best in the world, and the kindest-hearted, but we must not lett them go in there. I am off home, for if anybody else was to get in front of me, and tell my mother, I should go wild, and she would be quite upsett. When you have done all you think proper, come up and see poor Nicie.
"From your affectionate, and very sorry,
"T. R. WALDRON."
"Now the other, Ma'am!" cried Doctor Fox. "Here is another from theParson. Oh come now, we shall have a little common sense."
"MY DEAR JEMMY,
"It has pleased the Lord, who never afflicts us without good purpose, to remove that long and very heavy trouble from us. We have found the mortal remains of my dear friend, untouched by any human hand, in a hollow way leading from the Abbey to the Church. We have not yet discovered how it happened; and I cannot stop to tell you more, for I must go at once to Walderscourt, lest rumour should get there before us; and Sir Thomas must not go alone, being of rather headlong, though very noble nature. Sergeant Jakes has been placed on guard, against any rash curiosity. I have sent for the two Churchwardens and can leave it safely to them and to you, to see that all is done properly. If it can be managed, without undue haste, the coffin should be placed inside the Church, and the doors locked until the morning. When that is done, barricade the entrance to the tunnel; although I am sure that the people of our parish would have too much right feeling, as well as apprehension, to attempt to make their way in, after dark. To-morrow, I trust we shall offer humble thanks to the Giver of all good, for this great mercy. I propose to hold a short special service; though I fear there is no precedent in the Prayer-book. This will take a vast weight off your mind, as well as mine, which has been sorely tried. I beg you not to lose a minute, as many people might become unduly excited.
"Most truly yours,
"PHILIP PENNILOE."
"P.S.--This relieves us also from another dark anxiety, simply explaining the downfall of the S.E. corner of the Chancel."
"It seems hard upon me; but it must be right, because the Parson hasdecreed it;" Dr. Fox cried, without a particle of what is now called"slavish adulation of the Church"--which scarcely stuck up for herselfin those days--but by virtue of the influence which a kind and good manalways gains, when he does not overstrain his rights. "I am off, Mrs.Gilham, I can trust you to see to the pair of invalids upstairs."
Then he jumped upon young Mr. Farrant's horse, and leaving him to followat foot leisure, dashed down the hill towards Perlycross. At the fourcross-roads, which are the key of the position, and have all the villageand the valley in command, he found as fine a concourse perhaps as hadbeen there since the great days of the Romans. Not a rush of dread, anddoubting, and of shivering back-bones, such as had been on that hoarymorning, when the sun came through the fog, and showed ChurchwardenFarmer John, and Channing the clerk, and blacksmith Crang, trudging fromthe potato-field, full of ghastly tidings, and encountering at that veryspot Sergeant Jakes, and Cornish, and the tremulous tramp of half thevillage, afraid of resurrection.
Instead of hurrying from the churchyard, as a haunt of ghouls andfiends, all were hastening towards it now, with deep respect reviving.The people who lived beyond the bridge, and even beyond the factory, andwere much inclined by local right to sit under the Dissentingminister--himself a very good man, and working in harmony with theCurate--many of these, and even some from Priestwell, having heard ofit, pushed their right to know everything, in front of those who livedclose to the Church and looked through the railings every day. FarmerJohn Horner was there on his horse, trotting slowly up and down, asbrave as a mounted policeman is, and knowing every one by name calledout to him to behave himself. Moreover Walter Haddon stood at the doorof the _Ivy-bush_, with his coat off, and his shirtsleeves rolled, andready to double his fist at any man who only drank small beer, at thevery first sign of tumult. But candidly speaking this was needless,powerful as the upheaval was, and hot the spirit of enquiry; for thewives of most of the men were there, and happily in an English crowdthat always makes for good manners.
Fox was received with loud hurrahs, and many ran forward to shake hishand; some, who had been most black and bitter in their vile suspicions,having the manliness to beg his pardon, and abuse themselves veryheartily. He forgave them with much frankness, as behoves an Englishman,and with a pleasant smile at their folly, which also is nicely national.For after all, there is no other race that can give and take as we do;not by any means headlong, yet insisting upon decision--of the otherside, at any rate--and thus quickening the sense of justice upon theaverage, in our favour.
Fox, with the truly British face of one who is understood at last, butmakes no fuss about it, gave up his horse at the lych-gate, and made offwhere he was beckoned for. Here were three great scaffold-poles andslings fixed over the entrance to the ancient under-way; and before darkall was managed well. And then a short procession, headed by the martialmarch of Jakes, conveyed into the venerable Church the mortal part of ajust and kind man and a noble soldier, to be consigned to-morrow to amore secure, and ever tranquil, and still honoured resting-place.
This being done, the need of understanding must be satisfied. Dr. Fox,and Dr. Gronow, with the two Churchwardens, and Channing the clerk,descended the ladder into the hole, and with a couple of torches kindledwent to see the cause and manner of this strange yet simple matter--afour-month mystery of darkness, henceforth as clear as daylight.
When they beheld it, they were surprised, not at the thing itself--forit could scarcely have happened otherwise, under the circumstances--butat the coincidences, which had led so many people of very keenintelligence into, as might almost be said, every track, except theright one. And this brought home to them one great lesson--"_If you wishto be sure of a thing, see it with your own good eyes._" Andanother--but that comes afterwards.
The passage, dug by the Monks no doubt, led from the Abbey directlywestward to the chancel of the Church, probably to enable them to carrytheir tapers burning, and discharge their duties there promptly and withvestments dry, in defiance of the weather. The crown, of loose flintsset in mortar, was some eight feet underground, and the line it took wasthat adopted in all Christian burial. The grave of the late Sir T
homasWaldron was prepared, as he had wished, far away from the family vault(which had sadly undermined the Church), and towards the eastern end ofthe yard, as yet not much inhabited. As it chanced, the bottom laydirectly along a weak, or worn-out part of the concrete arch below; andthe men who dug it said at the time that their spades had struck onsomething hard, which they took to be loose blocks of flint. Howeverbeing satisfied with their depth, and having orders to wall the bottom,they laid on either side some nine or ten courses of brickwork, wellflushed in with strong and binding mortar; but the ends being safe andbricks running short, to save any further trouble, they omitted thecross-wall at the ends. Thus when the weight of earth cast in pressedmore and more heavily upon the heavy coffin, the dome of concretedflints below collapsed, the solid oaken box dropped quietly to thebottom of the tunnel, and the dwarf brick sides having no tie across,but being well bonded together, and well-footed, full across the vacancyinto one another, forming a new arch, or more correctly a splayspan-roof, in lieu of the old arch which had yielded to the strain. Thusthe earth above took this new bearing, and the surface of the ground wasno more disturbed than it always is by settlement.
No wonder then that in the hurried search, by men who had not been downthere before, and had not heard of any brickwork at the sides, and wereat that moment in a highly nervous state, not only was the gravereported empty--which of course was true enough--but no suspicion wasentertained that the bottom they came to (now covered with earth) wasanything else than a rough platform for the resting-place. And the twowho could have told them better, being proud of their skill infoundations, had joined the builders' staff, and been sent away todistant jobs.
In the heat of foregone conclusion, and the terror created by theblacksmith's tale, and the sad condition of that faithful little _Jess_,the report had been taken as final. No further quest seemed needful; andat Squire Mockham's order, the empty space had been filled in at once,for fear of the excitement, and throng of vulgar gazers, gathering andthickening around the empty grave.
Such are the cases that make us wonder at the power of co-incidence, andthe very strange fact that the less things seem to have to do with oneanother, the greater is their force upon the human mind, when it triesto be too logical.
Many little things, all far apart, had been fetched together by finereasoning process, and made to converge towards a very fine error, withcertainty universal.
Even that humble agent, or patient, little _Jess_--despised as a dog, bythe many who have no delight in their better selves--had contributedvery largely to the confluence of panic. If she could only have thrownthe light of language on her woeful plight, the strongest clench to theblacksmith's tale would never have come near his pincers. For the slashthat rewarded her true love fell, not from the spade of aChurchyard-robber, but from a poacher's bill-hook. This has already beenintimated; and Mr. Penniloe must have learned it then; if he had simplytaken time, instead of making off at five miles an hour, when Speccottywanted to tell his tale. This should be a warning to Clergymen; forperhaps there was no other man in the parish, whose case the goodparson would thus have postponed, without prospect of higherconsolation. And it does seem a little too hard upon a man, that becausehis mind is gone astray unawares, his soul should drop out ofcultivation!
That poor little spaniel was going home sadly, to get a bit ofbreakfast, and come back to her duty; when trespassing unwittingly uponthe poacher's tricks, at early wink of daylight, she was taken for aminion of the Evil One, and met with a vigour which is shown too seldom,by even true sportsmen, to his emissaries. Perhaps before she quittedguard, she may have had a nip at the flowers on the grave, and droppedthem back, when she failed to make sweet bones of them.
Without further words--though any number of words, if their weight wereby the score, would be too few--the slowest-headed man in Perlycrossmight lay to his heart the second lesson, read in as mild a voice asPenniloe's, above. And without a word at all, he may be trusted to gohome with it; when the job is of other folk's hands, but his own pocket.
"_Never scamp your work_," was preached more clearly by this longtrouble, and degradation of an honourable parish, than if Mr. Penniloehad stood in the pulpit, for a week of Sundays, with the mouth of KingSolomon laid to his ear, and the trump of the Royal Mail upon his lips.
CHAPTER XLIV.
AND ONE STILL FINER.
If it be sweet to watch at ease the troubles of another, how muchsweeter to look back, from the vantage ground of happiness, upon one'sown misfortunes! To be able to think--"well, it was too bad! Anotherweek would have killed me. How I pulled through it, is more than I cantell; for everybody was against me! And the luck--the luck kept playingleap-frog; fifty plagues all upon one another's back; and my poor littleself at the bottom. Not a friend came near me; they were all so sorry,but happened to be frightfully down themselves. I assure you, my dear,if it had not been for you, and the thought of our blessed children, andperhaps my own--well, I won't say 'pluck,' but determination to gothrough with it; instead of arranging these flowers for dinner, youwould have been wreathing them for a sadder purpose."
The lady sheds a tear, and says--"Darling Jack, see how you have made myhand shake! I have almost spoiled that truss of Hoya, and thisSchubertia won't stand up. But you never said a word about it, at thetime! Was that fair to me, Jack?" And the like will come to pass again,perhaps next year, perhaps next week.
But the beauty of country-life, as it then prevailed (ere the hungryhawk of Stock-exchange poised his wings above the stock-dove) was totake things gently, softly, with a cooing faith in goodness, both aboveus and around. Men must work; but being born (as their best friends, thehorses, are), for that especial purpose, why should they make it stillmore sad, by dwelling upon it, at the nose-bag time? How much wiser toallow that turbulent bit of stuff, the mind, to abide at ease, and takethings in, rather than cast them forth half-chewed, in the style of ourpresent essayists?
Now this old village was the right sort of place, to do such things,without knowing it. There was no great leading intellect (with his handsreturned to feet), to beat the hollow drum, and play shrill fife, andset everybody tumbling over his best friend's head. The rule of the menwas to go on, according to the way in which their fathers went; talkingas if they were running on in front, but sticking effectually to the oldcoat-tail. Which in the long run is the wisest thing to do.
They were proud of their church, when the Sunday mood was on, and theirchildren came home to tell about it.
There she was. Let her stand; if the folk with money could support her.It was utterly impossible to get into their heads any difference betwixtthe Church in the churchyard, and the one that inhabits the sky above.When a man has been hard at work all the week, let his wife be hisbetter half on Sunday.
Nothing that ever can be said, or done, by the most ardent "pastor,"will ever produce that enthusiasm among the tegs of his flock, whichspreads so freely among the ewes, and lambs. Mr. Penniloe would not becalled a _Pastor_; to him the name savoured of a cant conceit. Neitherdid he call himself a _Priest_; for him it was quite enough to be aClergyman of the Church of England; and to give his life to that.
Therefore, when the time came round, and the turn of the year was fitfor it, this Parson of that humbler type was happy to finish, withoutfuss, the works that he had undertaken, with a lofty confidence in theLord, which had come to ground too often. His faith, though fine, hadnever been of that grandly abstract quality, which expects the ravens tocome down, with bread instead of bills, and build a nest for sweet doves_gratis_. To pay every penny that was fairly due, and shorten no man ofhis Saturday wage, towards the Sunday consolation; to perceive thatbusiness must not be treated as a purely spiritual essence; and to knowthat a great many very good people drip away (as tallow does from itsown wick) from their quick flare of promises; also to bear the brunt ofall, and cast up the toppling column, with the balance coming down onhis own chest--what wonder that he had scarcely any dark hair left, andeven the silver was incl
ined to say adieu?
When a man, who is getting on in years, comes out of a long anxiety,about money, and honour, and his sense of right, he finds even in thesoft flush of relief that a great deal of his spring is gone. A Bachelorof Arts, when his ticks have been paid by a groaning governor, is fitand fresh to start again, and seldom dwells with due remorse upon thesacrifice Vicarious. His father also, if of right paternal spirit, soarsabove the unpleasant subject; leaves it to the mother to drive home thelesson--which she feels already to be too severe--and says, "Well, Jack,you have got your degree; and that's more than the Squire's son canboast of."
But the ancient M.A. of ten lustres, who has run into debt on his ownhook, and felt the hook running into him, is in very different plight,even when he has wriggled off. Parson Penniloe was sorely humble, hisplacid forehead sadly wrinkled, and his kindly eyes uncertain how tolook at his brother men, even from the height of pulpit; when in histremulous throat stuck fast that stern and difficult precept--"Owe noman anything."
Even the strongest of mankind can scarcely manage to come up to that,when fortune is not with him, and his family tug the other way. Theglory of the Lord may be a lofty prospect, but becomes a cloudy pillar,when the column is cast up, and will not square with cash in hand.Scarcely is it too much to say, that since the days of Abraham, it wouldhave been hard to find a man of stronger faith than Penniloe,--except atthe times when he broke down (in vice of matters physical) and proved atone break two ancient creeds--_Exceptio probat regulam_; and _Corruptiooptimi pessima_.
While he was on the balance now, as a man of the higher ropes should be,lifting the upper end of his pole, that the glory of his parish shoneagain, yet feeling the butt inclined to swag, by reason of the billsstuck upon it, who should come in to the audience and audit but youngSir Thomas Waldron? This youth had thought perhaps too little ofhimself,--because those candid friends, his brother-boys had alwaysspoken of his body so kindly, without a single good word for hismind--but now he was authorized, and even ordered, by universal opinionto take a much fairer view of his own value.
Nothing that ever yet came to pass has gone into words without someshift of colour, and few things even without change of form; and so itwould have been beyond all nature if the events above reported had beentold with perfect accuracy even here. How much less could this be so, inthe hot excitement of the time, with every man eager to excel hisneighbour's narrative, and every woman burning to recall it with her ownpure imagination! What then of the woman, who had been blessed enough toenrich the world, and by the same gift ennoble it, with the hero, who ata stroke had purged the family, the parish, and the nation?
Nevertheless he came in gently, modestly, and with some misgivings, intothe room, where he had trembled, blushed, and floundered on all fours,over the old gray Latin steps, which have broken many a knee-cap.
"If you please, sir," he said to his old tutor, who alone had taughthim anything, for at Eton he had barely learned good manners; "my motherbegs you to read this. And we are all ashamed of our behaviour."
"No, Tom, no. You have no cause for that. Your mother may have been alittle hard at first. But she has meant to be just throughout. Themisery she has passed through--none but herself can realise."
"You see, sir, she does not sing out about things, as most women do; andthat of course makes it ever so much worse for her."
The young man spoke, like some deep student of feminine nature; but hiswords were only those of the good housekeeper at Walderscourt. Mr.Penniloe took them in that light, and began to read without reply.
"Truly esteemed and valued sir. With some hesitation of the mind I cometo say that in all I have said and done, my mind has been of the wrongintelligence most largely. It always appears in this land of Britain, asif nobody of it could make a mistake. But we have not in my country suchgreat wisdom and good fortune. Also in any other European land of whichI have the acquaintance, the natives are wrong in their opinionssometimes.
"But this does not excuse me of my mistake. I have been unjust to youand to all people living around my place of dwelling. But by my dearson, and his very deep sagacity, it has been made manifest that yourgood people were considered guilty, without proper justice, of a wrongupon my husband's memory. Also that your good church, of which hethought so well in the course of his dear life, has treated him not withignominy, but with the best of her attention, receiving him into thesacred parts, where the Priests of our religion in the times of truthconversed. This is to me of the holiest and most gracious consolation.
"Therefore I entreat you to accept, for the uses of so good a building,the little sum herewith committed to your care, which flows entirelyfrom my own resources, and not from the property of my dear husband, somuch engaged in the distribution of the law. When that is disengaged, mydear son Rodrigo, with my approbation will contribute from it the sameamount for the perfection of the matter."
"One, two, three, four, five. And every one of them a hundred pounds!My dear Tom, I feel a doubt----"
Mr. Penniloe leaned back and thought. He was never much excited aboutmoney, except when he owed it to, or for the Lord.
"I call it very poor amends indeed. What would ten times as much be,after all that you have suffered? And how can you refuse it, when it isnot for yourself? My mother will be hurt most dreadfully, and neverthink well again of the Church of England."
"Tom, you are right;" Mr. Penniloe replied, while a smile flitted overhis conscience. "I should indeed convey a false impression of thecharacter of our dear mother. But as for the other L500--well----"
"My father's character must be considered, as well as your goodmother's." Sir Thomas was not strong at metaphor. "And I am sure of onething, sir. If he could have known what would happen about him, and howbeautifully every one behaved, except his own people--but it's no usetalking. If you don't take it, I shall join the Early Methodists. Whatdo you think of that, sir? I am always as good as my word, you know."
"Ah! Ah! It may be so;" the Curate answered thoughtfully, returning tothe mildness of exclamation from which these troubles had driven him."But allow me a little time for consideration. Your mother's verygenerous gift, I can accept without hesitation, and have no right to dootherwise. But as to your father's estate, I am placed in a delicateposition, by reason of my trusteeship; and it is possible that I mightgo wrong; at any rate, I must consult----"
"Mrs. Fox, sir, from Foxden!" Thyatira Muggridge cried, with her face asred as a turkey's wattle, and throwing the door of the humble back-roomas wide as if it never could be wide enough. For the lady wasbeautifully arrayed.
"I come to consult, not to be consulted. My confidence in myself hasbeen misplaced;" said the mother of Jemmy and Christie, after making thedue salutation. "Sir Thomas, I beg you not to go. You have some right toa voice in the matter; if as they tell me at _Old Barn_, you haveconquered your repugnance to my son, and are ready to receive him asyour brother-in-law."
"Madam, I was a fool," said Tom, offering his great hand with a sheepishlook. "Your son has forgiven me; and I hope that you will. Jemmy is thefinest fellow ever born."
"A credit to his mother, as his mother always thought. And what is stillbetter for himself, a happy man, in winning the affections of thesweetest girl on earth. I have seen your dear sister--what a gentledarling!"
"Nicie is very well in her way, madam. But she has a strong will of herown. Jemmy will find that out, some day. Upon the whole, I am sorry forhim."
"He talks in the very same way of his sister. If young men listened toyoung men, none of them would ever marry. Oh, Mr. Penniloe, you can betrusted at any rate, to look at things from a higher point of view."
"I try sometimes; but it is not easy. And I generally get into scrapes,when I do. But I have one consolation. Nobody ever takes my advice."
"I mean to take it," Mrs. Fox replied, looking into his gentle eyes,with the faith which clever women feel in a nature larger than theirown. "You need not suppose that I am impulsive. But I know what you are.When
every one else in this stupid little place condemned my son,without hearing a word, there was one who was too noble, too good aChristian, to listen to any reason. He was right when the mother herselfwas wrong. For I don't mind telling you, as I have even told my son,that knowing what he is, I could not help suspecting that he--that hehad something to do with it. Not that Lady Waldron had any rightwhatever--and it will take me a long time to forgive her, and her son isquite welcome to tell her that. What you felt yourself was quitedifferent, Sir Thomas."
"I can't see that my mother did any harm. Why, she even suspected herown twin-brother! If you were to bear ill-will against my mother----"
"Of such little tricks I am incapable, Sir Thomas. And of course I canallow for foreigners. Even twenty years of English life cannot bringthem to see things as we do. Their nature is so--well, I won't saynarrow. Neither will I say 'bigoted,' although----"
"We quite understand you, my dear madam." Mr. Penniloe was shocked athis own rudeness, in thus interrupting a lady, but he knew that verylittle more would produce a bad breach betwixt Walderscourt and Foxden."What a difference really does exist among people equally just andupright----"
"My dear mother is as just and upright as any Englishwoman in the world,Protestant or Catholic," the young man exclaimed, having temper on thebubble, yet not allowing it to boil against a lady. "But if his ownmother condemned him, how--I can't put it into words, as I mean it--howcan she be in a wax with my mother? And more than that--as it happens,Mrs. Fox, my mother starts for Spain to day, and I cannot let her goalone."
"Now the Lord must have ordered it so," thought the Parson. "What aclearance of hostile elements!" But fearing that the others might not sotake it, he said only--"Ah, indeed!"
"To her native land?" asked Mrs. Fox, as a Protestant not quiteunbigoted; and a woman who longed to have it out. "It seems anextraordinary thing just now. But perhaps it is a pilgrimage."
"Yes, madam, for about L500,000," answered Sir Thomas, in his youthfulTory vein, not emancipated yet from disdain of commerce; "not for thesake of the money, of course; but to do justice to the brother she hadwronged. Mr. Penniloe can tell you all about it. I am not much of a handat arithmetic."
"We won't trouble any one about that now;" the lady replied with someloftiness. "But I presume that Lady Waldron would wish to see me, beforeshe leaves this country."
"Certainly she would if she had known that you were here. My sister hadnot come back yet, to tell her. She will be disappointed terribly, whenshe hears that you have been at Perlycross. But she is compelled tocatch the Packet; and I fear that I must say 'good-bye'; mother wouldnever forgive me, if she lost her voyage through any fault of mine."
"You see how they treat us!" said Mrs. Fox of Foxden, when the young manhad made his adieu with great politeness. "I suppose you understand it,Mr. Penniloe, though your mind is so very much larger?"
The clergyman scarcely knew what to say. He was not at all quick in theways of the world; and all feminine rush was beyond him. "We must allallow for circumstances," was his quiet platitude.
"All possible allowance I can make;" the lady replied with muchself-command. "But I think there is nothing more despicable than thissmall county-family feeling! Is Lady Waldron not aware that I amconnected with the very foremost of your Devonshire families? Butbecause my husband is engaged in commerce, a military race may look downupon us! After all, I should like to know, what are your proudestlandowners, but mere agriculturists by deputy? I never lose my temper;but it makes me laugh, when I remember that after all, they are simplydependent upon farming. Is not that what it comes to, Mr. Penniloe?"
"And a very noble occupation, madam. The first and the finest of theways ordained by the Lord for the sustenance of mankind. Next to thecare of the human soul, what vocation can be----"
"You think so. Then I tell you what I'll do, if only to let thoseWaldrons know how little we care for their prejudices. Everythingdepends upon me now, in my poor husband's sad condition. I will give myconsent to my daughter's alliance--great people call it alliance, don'tthey?--with a young man, who is a mere farmer!"
"I am assured that he will make his way," Mr. Penniloe answered withsome inward smile, for it is a pleasant path to follow in the track ofladies. "He gets a higher price for pigs, than either of myChurchwardens."
"What could you desire more than that? It is a proof of the highestcapacity. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Gilham shall send their wedding cards toWalderscourt, with a prime young porker engraved on them. Oh, Mr.Penniloe, I am not perfect. But I have an unusual gift perhaps oflargeness of mind, and common sense; and I always go against any one,who endeavours to get the whip-hand of me. And I do believe my darlingChristie gets it from her mother."
"She is a most charming young lady, Mrs. Fox. What a treasure she wouldbe in this parish! The other day, she said a thing about our Church----"
"Just like her. She is always doing that. And when she comes into herown money--but that is a low consideration. It is gratitude, my dearsir, the deepest and the noblest feeling that still survives in theselatter days. Without that heroic young man's behaviour, which has partlydisabled him for life, I fear, I should have neither son nor daughter.And you say that the Gilhams are of very good birth?"
"The true name is _Guillaume_, I believe. Their ancestor came with theConqueror. Not as a rapacious noble, but in a most useful and peacefulvocation; in fact----"
"Quite enough, Mr. Penniloe. In such a case, one scorns particulars. Mydaughter was sure that it was so. But I doubted; although you can see itin his bearing. A more thoroughly modest young man never breathed; but Ishall try to make him not afraid of me. He told my daughter that, in hisopinion, I realised--but you would think me vain; and I was justlyannoyed at such nonsense. However, since I have had your advice, I shallhesitate no longer."
Mrs. Fox smiled pleasantly, because her mind was quite made up, to saveherself a world of useless trouble in this matter, and yet appear totake the upper hand in her surrender.
Wondering what advice he could have been supposed to give, the mild yetgallant Parson led her to the Foxden carriage, which had halted at hisouter gate, and opposite the school house. Here with many a bow theyparted, thinking well of one another, and hoping for the like regard.But as the gentle curate passed the mouth of the Taenarian tunnel leadingto his lower realms, a great surprise befell him.
"What has happened? There is something wrong. Surely at this time ofday, one ought to see the sunset through that hole," he communed withhimself in wonder, for the dark arcade ran from east to west. "Theremust be a stoppage somewhere. I am almost sure I can see two heads. Goodpeople, come out, whoever you may be."
"The fact of it is, sir," said Sergeant Jakes, marching out of the holewith great dignity, though his hat was white with cob-webs; "the fact ofit is that this good lady hath received a sudden shock----"
"No sir, no sir. Not at all like that, sir. Only as St. Paul saith inchapter 5 of Ephesians--'this is a great mystery.'"
"It is indeed. And I must request to have it explained immediately."
Thyatira's blushes and the sparkling of her eyes made her look quitepretty, and almost as good as young again, while she turned away with afinal shot from the locker of old authority.
"You ought to be ashamed, sir, according to my thinking, to be standingin this wind so long, without no hat upon your head."
"You see, sir, it is just like this," the gallant sergeant followed up,when his love was out of hearing; "time hath come for Mrs. Muggridge tobe married, now or never. It is not for me to say, as a man who fearsthe Lord, that I think He was altogether right in the institooting ofwedlock, supposing as ever He did so. But whether He did it, or whetherHe did not, the thing hath been so taken up by the humankind--womenparticular--that for a man getting on in years, 'tis the only thingrespectable. Thyatira hath proven that out of the Bible, many times."
"Mr. Jakes, the proper thing is to search the Scriptures for yourself."
"So Thyatira saith. But Lord! She
findeth me wrong at every text, fromlooking up to women so. If she holdeth by St. Paul, a quarter so much asshe quoteth him, there won't be another man in Perlycross with such ahome as I shall have."
"You have chosen one of the few wise virgins. Jakes, I trust that youwill be blest not only with a happy home in this world, but what is athousand-fold more important, the aid of a truly religious wife, to leada thoroughly humble, prayerful, and consistent Christian life."
"Thank 'e, sir. Thank 'e. With the grace of God, she will; and my firstprayer to the Lord in heaven will be just this--to let me live longenough for to see that young fool of a Bob the butcher ahanging fom hisown steelyard. By reason of the idiot he hath made of his self, bymarrying of that silly minx, Tamar Haddon!"
"The grace of God is boundless; and Tamar may improve. Try to make thebest of her, Mr. Jakes. She will always look up to you, I am sure,feeling the strength of your character, and the example of higherprinciples."
"She!" replied the sergeant without a blush, but after a keenreconnoitring glance. "The likes of her doesn't get no benefit fromexample. But I must not keep you, sir, so long without your hat on."
"This is a day of many strange events," Mr. Penniloe began to meditate,as he leaned back in his long sermon-chair, with the shadows of theSpring night deepening. "Lady Waldron gone, to support her brother'scase in Spain, because she had so wronged him. A thousand poundssuddenly forthcoming, to lift us out of our affliction; sweet Nicie leftin the charge of Mrs. Webber, who comes to five at Walderscourt;Christie Fox allowed to have her own way, as she was pretty sure to do;and now Thyatira, Thyatira Muggridge, not content to lead a quiet,useful, respectable, Christian, and well-paid life, but launched intomatrimony with a man of many stripes! I know not how the school will beconducted, or my own household, if it comes to that. Truly, when aclergyman is left without a wife----"
"I want to come in, and the door won't open"--a clear but impatientvoice was heard--"I want to see you, before anybody else does." And thenanother shake was given.
"Why, Zip, my dear child! Zip, don't be so headlong. I thought you werelearning self-command. Why, how have you come? What is the meaning ofall this?"
"Well, now they may kill me, if they like. I told them I would hear yourvoice again, and then they might skin me, if it suited them. I won'thave their religion. There is none of it inside them. You are the onlyone I ever saw, that God has made with his eyes open. I like them verywell, but what are they to you? Why, they won't let me speak as I wasmade! It is no good sending me away again. Parson, you mustn't stand uplike that. Can't you see that I want to kiss you?"
"My dear little child, with all my heart. But I never saw any one halfso----"
"Half so what? I don't care what, so long as I have got you round theneck," cried the child as she covered his face with kisses, drawing backevery now and then, to look into his calm blue eyes with flashes ofadoration. "The Lord should have made me your child, instead of thatwell-conducted waxy thing--look at my nails! She had better not comenow."
"Alas! Have you cultivated nothing but your nails? But why did the goodladies send you home so soon? They said they would keep you untilWhitsuntide."
"I got a punishment on purpose, and I let the old girls go to dinner.Then I said the Lord's Prayer, and slipped down the back stairs."
"And you plodded more than twenty miles alone! Oh Zip, what a difficultthing it will be to guide you into the ways of peace!"
"They say I talks broad a bit still sometimes, and they gives me ever somuch roilying. But I'd sit up all night with a cork in my mouth, if sobe, I could plaize 'e, Parson."
"You must want something better than a cork, my dear"--vexed as he was,Mr. Penniloe admired the vigorous growth and high spirit of thechild--"after twenty-two miles of our up and down roads. Now go to Mrs.Muggridge, but remember one thing--if you are unkind to my little Fay,how can you expect me to be kind to you?"
"Not a very lofty way for me to put it," he reflected, while Zip wasbeing cared for in the kitchen; "but what am I to do with that strangechild? If the girl is mother to the woman, she will be none of the choirAngelic, contented with duty, and hymns of repose. If 'nature makethnadders,' as our good people say, Zippy[2] hath more of sting than sugarin her bowl."
But when the present moment thrives, and life is warm and active, andthose in whom we take delight are prosperous and happy, what is therewhy we should not smile, and keep in tune with all around, and find theflavour of the world returning to our relish? This may not be of thenoblest style of thinking, or of living; but he who would, in his littleway, rather help than harm his fellows, soon finds out that it cannot bedone by carping and girding at them. By intimacy with their lower parts,and rank insistence on them, one may for himself obtain some power,yielded by a hateful shame. But who esteems him, who is better for hisfetid labours, who would go to him for comfort when the world is waning,who--though in his home he may be loveable--can love him?
Mr. Penniloe was not of those who mount mankind by lowering it. Fromyear to year his influence grew, as grows a tree in the backwood age,that neither shuns nor defies the storm. Though certain persons opposedhim still--as happens to every active man--there was not one of themthat did not think all the others wrong in doing so. For instance LadyWaldron, when she returned with her son from Spain, thought Mrs. Fox byno means reasonable, and Mrs. Fox thought Lady Waldron anything butsensible, when either of them differed with the clergyman and the other.For verily it was a harder thing to settle all the important pointsconcerning Nicie and Jemmy Fox, than to come to a perfect understandingin the case of Christie and Frank Gilham.
However the parish was pleased at last to hear that everything had beenarranged; and a mighty day it was to be for all that pleasantneighbourhood, although no doubt a quiet, and as every one hoped, asober one. On account of her father's sad condition, Christie as well asNicie, was to make her vows in the grand old church, which was notwholly finished yet, because there was so much more to do, through thefine influx of money. Currency is so called perhaps, not only because itruns away so fast, but also because it runs together; the prefix beingomitted through our warm affection and longing for the terms offamiliarity. At any rate the Parson and the stout Churchwardens ofPerlycross had just received another hundred pounds when the followinginterview came to pass.
It was on the bank of the crystal Perle, at the place where thePriestwell brook glides in, and a single plank without a handrailcrosses it into the meads below. Here are some stickles of good speed,and right complexion, for the fly to float quietly into a dainty mouth,and produce a fine fry in the evening; and here, if any man rejoice notin the gentle art, yet may he find sweet comfort and release of worldlytrouble, by sitting softly on the bank, and letting all the birds singto him, and all the flowers fill the air, and all the little waves goby, as his own anxieties have gone.
Sometimes Mr. Penniloe, whenever he could spare the time, allowed hisheart to go up to heaven, where his soul was waiting for it andwondering at its little cares. And so on this fair morning of the May,here he sat upon a bank of Spring, gazing at the gliding water throughthe mute salaam of twigs.
"Reverend, I congratulate you. Never heard of a finer hit. A solidhundred out of Gowler! Never bet with a parson, eh? I thought he knewthe world too well."
A few months back and the clergyman would have risen very stiffly, andkept his distance from this joke. But now he had a genuine liking forthis "Godless Gronow," and knew that his mind was the worst part of him.
"Doctor, you know that it was no bet;" he said, as he shook handsheartily. "Nevertheless I feel some doubts about accepting----"
"You can't help it. The money is not for yourself, and you rob theChurch, if you refuse it. The joke of it is that I saw through themill-stone, where that conceited fellow failed. Come now, as you are asporting man, I'll bet you a crown that I catch a trout in this littlestickle above the plank."
"Done!" cried Mr. Penniloe, forgetting his position, but observingGronow's as he whirled
his flies.
The doctor threshed heartily, and at his very best; even bending hisback as he had seen Pike do, and screwing up his lips, and keeping, in astrict line with his line, his body and his mind and whole existence.
Mr. Penniloe's face wore an amiable smile, as he watched the intensityof his friend. Crowns in his private purse were few and far between, andif he should attain one by the present venture, it would simply go intothe poor-box; yet such was his sympathy with human nature that he hopedagainst hope to see a little trout pulled out. But the willows bowedsweetly, and the wind went by, and the water flowed on, with all itsclever children safe.
"Here you are, Reverend!" said the philosophic Gronow, pulling out hiscart-wheel like a man; "you can't make them take you when they don'tchoose, can you? But I'll make them pay out for it, when they begin torise."
"The fact of it is that you are too skilful, doctor; and you let themsee so much of you that they feel it in their hearts."
"There may be truth in that. But my own idea is, that I manage to instilinto my flies too keen a sense of their own dependence upon me. Now whatam I to do? I must have a dish and a good dish too of trout, for thisevening's supper. You know the honour and the pleasure I am to have ofgiving the last bachelor and maiden feast to the heroes and heroines ofto-morrow, Nicie and Jemmy Fox, Christie and Frank Gilham. Their peopleare glad to be quit of them in the fuss, and they are too glad to be outof it. None of your imported stuff for me. Nothing is to be allowed uponthe table, unless it is the produce of our own parish. A finefore-quarter, and a ripe sirloin, my own asparagus, and lettuce, andsea-kail, and frame-potatoes in their jackets. Stewed pears and clottedcream, grapes, and a pine-apple (coming of course from Walderscourt)--ohReverend, what a good man you would be, if you only knew what is good toeat!"
"But I do. And I shall know still better by and by. I understood that Iwas kindly invited."
"To be sure, and one of the most important. But I must look sharp, or Ishall never get the fish. By the by, you couldn't take the rod for halfan hour, could you? I hear that you have been a fine hand at it."
Mr. Penniloe stood with his hand upon a burr-knot of oak, and looked atthe fishing-rod. If it had been a good, homely, hard-working, andplain-living bit of stuff, such as Saint Peter might have swung upon thebanks of Jordan, haply the parson might have yielded to the sweettemptation. For here within a few clicks of reel was goodly choice ofmany waters, various as the weather--placid glides of middle currentsrippling off towards either bank, petulant swerves from bank, or hole,with a plashing and a murmur and a gurgling from below, and then aspread of quiet dimples deepening to a limpid pool. Taking all thetwists and turns of river Perle and Priestwell brook, there must havebeen a mile of water in two flowery meadows, water bright with stickleruns, gloomy with still corners, or quivering with crafty hovers where aking of fish might dwell.
But lo, the king of fishermen, or at least the young prince was coming!The doctor caught the parson's sleeve, and his face assumed its worstexpression, perhaps its usual one before he took to Church-going andfly-fishing.
"Just look! Over there, by that wild cherry-tree!" He whispered veryfiercely. "I am sure it's that sneak of a Pike once more. Come into thisbush, and watch him. I thought he was gone to Oxford. Why, I never sawhim fishing once last week."
"Pike is no sneak, but a very honest fellow," his tutor answered warmly."But I was obliged by a sad offence of his to stop him from handling therod last week. He begged me to lay it on his back instead. The poor boyscarcely took a bit of food. He will never forget that punishment."
"Well he seems to be making up for it now. What luck he has, and I getnone!"
Mr. Penniloe smiled as his favourite pupil crossed the Perle towardsthem. He was not wading--in such small waters there is no necessity forthat--but stepping lightly from pile to pile and slab to slab, where therelics of an ancient weir stood above the flashing river. Whistlingsoftly, and calmly watching every curl and ripple, he was throwing along line up the stream, while his flies were flitting as if humangenius had turned them in their posthumous condition into moths. His rodshowed not a glance of light, but from spike to top-ring quivered withthe vigilance of death.
While the envious Gronow watched, with bated breath and teeth set hard,two or three merry little trout were taught what they were made for;then in a soft swirl near the bank that dimpled like a maiden's cheek,an excellent fish with a yellow belly bravely made room in it forsomething choice. Before he had smacked his lips thoroughly, beholdanother fly of wondrous beauty--laced with silver, azure-pinioned, andwith an exquisite curl of tail--came fluttering through the golden worldso marvellous to the race below. The poor fly shuddered at the giddygulf, then folded his wings and fell helpless. "I have thee," exclaimedthe trout,--but ah! more truly the same thing said the Pike. A gallantstruggle, a thrilling minute, silvery dashes, and golden rolls, andthere between Dr. Gronow's feet lay upon Dr. Gronow's land a visitor hewould have given half the meadow to have placed there.
"Don't touch him," said Pike, in the calmest manner; "or you'll be sureto let him in again. He will turn the pound handsomely, don't youthink?"
"A cool hand, truly, this pupil of yours!" quoth the doctor to theparson. "To consult me about the weight of my own fish, and then put himin his basket! Young man, this meadow belongs to me."
"Yes, sir, I dare say; but the fish don't live altogether in the meadow.And I never heard that you preserve the Perle. Priestwell brook you do,I know. But I don't want to go there, if I might."
"I dare say. Perhaps the grapes are sour. Never mind; let us see how youhave done. I find them taking rather short to-day. Why you don't mean tosay you have caught all those!"
"I ought to have done better," said the modest Pike, "but I lost twovery nice fish by being in too much of a hurry. That comes of beingstopped from it all last week. But I see you have not been lucky yet.You are welcome to these, sir, if Mr. Penniloe does not want them. Bystrict right, I dare say they belong to you."
"Not one of them, Mr. Pike. But you are very generous. I hope to catch abasketful very shortly--still, it is just possible that this may notoccur. I will take them provisionally, and with many thanks. Now, willyou add to the obligation, by telling, if your tutor has no objection,why he put you under such an awful veto?"
"My boy, you are welcome to tell Dr. Gronow. It was only a bit ofthoughtlessness, and your punishment has been severe."
"I shall never touch cobbler's wax again on Sunday. But I wanted tofinish a May-fly entirely of my own pattern; and so after church I wastouching up his wings, when in comes Mr. Penniloe with his Londonglasses on."
"And I am proud to assure you, Dr. Gronow, that the lad never tried todeceive me. I should have been deeply pained, if he had striven toconceal it."
"Well done! That speaks well for both of you. Pike, you are astraight-forward fellow. You shall have a day on my brook once a week.Is there anything more I can do for you?"
"Yes sir, unless it is too much to ask; and perhaps Mr. Penniloe wouldlike to hear it too. Hopper and I have had many talks about it; and hesays that I am superstitious. But his plan of things is to cut for hislife over everything that he can see, without stopping once to look atit. And when he has jumped over it, he has no more idea what it was,than if he had run under it. He has no faith in anything that he doesnot see, and he never sees much of anything."
"Ha, Master Pike. You describe it well;" said the doctor, looking at himwith much interest. "Scepticism without enquiry. Reverend, thatHop-jumper is not the right stuff for a bishop."
"If you please, Dr. Gronow, we will not discuss that now," the parsonreplied with a glance at young Pike, which the doctor understood andheeded: "What is it, my boy, that you would ask of Dr. Gronow, afterserious debate with Peckover?"
"Nothing sir, nothing. Only we would like to know, if it is notdisagreeable to any one, how he could have managed from the very firstto understand all about Sir Thomas Waldron, and to know that we were allmaking fools of ourse
lves. I say that he must have seen a dream, likeJacob, or have been cast into a vision, like so many other saints. ButHopper says no; if there was any inspiration, Dr. Gronow was more likelyto have got it from the Devil."
"Come now, Pike, and Hopper too,--if he were here to fly my brook,--Icall that very unfair of you. No, it was not you who said it; I canquite believe that. No fisherman reviles his brother. But you shouldhave given him the spike, my friend. Reverend, is this all the theologyyou teach? Well, there is one answer as to how I knew it, and a veryshort one--the little word, _brains_."
Mr. Penniloe smiled a pleasant smile, and simply said, "Ah!" in hisaccustomed tone, which everybody liked for its sympathy and good faith.But Pike took up his rod, and waved his flies about, and answered verygravely--"It must be something more than that."
"No sir," said the doctor, looking down at him complacently, and givinga little tap to his grizzled forehead; "it was all done here, sir--justa trifling bit of brains."
"But there never can have been such brains before;" replied Pike with anangler's persistence. "Why everybody else was a thousand miles astray,and yet Dr. Gronow hit the mark at once!"
"It is a little humble knack he has, sir. Just a little gift ofthinking," the owner of all this wisdom spoke as if he were half-ashamedof it; "from his earliest days it has been so. Nothing whatever to beproud of, and sometimes even a trouble to him, when others require to beset right. But how can one help it, Master Pike? There is the power, andit must be used. Mr. Penniloe will tell you that."
"All knowledge is from above," replied the gentleman thus appealed to;"and beyond all question it is the duty of those who have this preciousgift, to employ it for the good of others."
"Young man; there is a moral lesson for you. When wiser people set youright, be thankful and be humble. That has been my practice always,though I have not found many occasions for it."
Pike was evidently much impressed, and looked with reverence at both hiselders. "Perhaps then," he said, with a little hesitation and the brightblush of ingenuous youth, "I ought to set Dr. Gronow right in a littlemistake he is making."
"If such a thing be possible, of course you should," his tutor repliedwith a smile of surprise; while the doctor recovered his breath, made abow, and said, "Sir, will you point out my error?"
"Here it is, sir," quoth Pike, with the certainty of truth overcominghis young diffidence, "this wire-apparatus in your brook--a very cleverthing; what is the object of it?"
"My _Ichthyophylax_? A noble idea that has puzzled all the parish. Asort of a grill that only works one way. It keeps all my fish from goingdown to my neighbours, and yet allows theirs to come up to me; and whenthey come up, they can never get back. At the other end of my property,I have the same contrivance inverted, so that all the fish come down tome, but none of them can go up again. I saw the thing offered in asporting paper, and paid a lot of money for it in London. Reverend,isn't it a grand invention? It intercepts them all, like a sluicegate."
"Extremely ingenious, no doubt," replied the parson. "But is not it whata fair-minded person would consider rather selfish?"
"Not at all. They would like to have my fish, if they could; and so Ianticipate them, and get theirs. Quite the rule of the Scriptures,Reverend."
"I think that I have read a text," said Master Pike, stroking his longchin, and not quite sure that he quoted aright; "the snare which he laidfor others, in the same are his own feet taken!"
"A very fine text," replied Dr. Gronow, with one of his most sarcasticsmiles; "and the special favourite of the Lord must have realized it toooften. But what has that to do with my _Ichthyophylax_?"
"Nothing, sir. Only that you have set it so that it works in the wrongdirection. All the fish go out, but they can't come back. And if it isso at the upper end, no wonder that you catch nothing."
"Can I ever call any man a fool again?" cried the doctor, whenthoroughly convinced.
"Perhaps that disability will be no loss;" Mr. Penniloe answeredquietly.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] This proved too true, as may be shown hereafter.
THE END.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
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