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"My child is well now!" said Margaret in a stifled voice.
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ONE:Albert could not help a grudging admiration of his father. Reuben could be angry and fling threats, and yet keep at the same time a certain splendour, which no[Pg 139] violence or vulgarity could dim. The boy, in spite of his verses, which were execrable enough, had a poet's eye for the splendid, and he could not be blind to the qualities of his father's tyranny, even though that tyranny crushed him at times. Reuben was now forty-three; a trifle heavier in build, perhaps, but otherwise as fine and straight a man as he had been at twenty. His clear brown skin, keen eyes, thick coal-black hair, his height, his strength, his dauntless spirit, could not fail to impress one in whom the sense of life and beauty was developing. Albert even once began a poem to his father: THREE:"Your servant, ma'am," he said, as he opened the gate; and she answered classically:

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ONE:Boarzell, not Alice, should be his. He muttered the words aloud as he strained his eyes into the darkness, tracing the beloved outline. He despised himself for having wavered even in thought. Through blood and tearsothers' and his ownhe would wade to Boarzell, and conquer it at last. From that night all would be changed, the past should be thrust behind him, he would pull himself together, make himself a man. Alice must go where everything else had gonemother, wife, children, friends, and love. Thank God! Boarzell was worth more to him than all these.
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ONE:"Well, I wouldn't have married you if you hadn't got none."
THREE:"Alicehow did you know?"

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THREE:"My liege, I am leader of fifty thousand men.""You have made him a freeman since then?" inquired Sir Robert.

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FORE:He stood with his arms folded over his chest, and watched the first stars flicker above Castweasel. The scent of the ground steamed up to mingle with the mists, a soft rasp of frost was in the air and the earth which he had loved seemed to breathe out towards him, and tell him that by his faithful service he had won not only Boarzell but all gracious soil, all the secrets of seed-time and harvest, all the tender mysteries of sap, and growth.

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FORE:Then a gentle darkness stole upon her eyes, as her overworked machine of flesh and blood ran down and throbbed slowly into stillness and peace.Mrs. Backfield was the one to bear the brunt of these economies. She had been a trifle pampered during the latter days of her marriage, and set far more store than her sons on dainty food; also the work which she performed so well was a tax on her unaccustomedness. But she never grumbled, and this was not only because escape was near at hand. Strange to say, in these new days of his lordship, Reuben began to fill a place in her heart which he had never filled before. While her husband was alive, he had never really come inside her life, he had been an aloof, inarticulate being whom she did not understand. But now that he had asserted himself, she found herself turning towards him. She would have worked without prospect of releaseindeed, as the days went by, Harry and his home and her promised idleness dwindled in her thoughts.

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FORE:They walked on rapidly through the forest, but neither spoke. Black Jack, hardened as he was, was not altogether at ease in thus betraying a confiding man; and this feeling was not lessened by the suspicions Margaret had expressed, and he endeavoured to deceive even himself into a belief that he should have been better pleased if the yeoman had taken the wife's advice. However, he resolved, as he hurried on, that he would be well paid for so troublesome an affair. Holgrave was not more composed. In despite of what he considered his better judgment, he could not help being, in some measure, imbued with the fears of his wife; and, as he followed his silent conductor, a thousand indistinct apprehensions floated in his mind."Oh, he d?an't mind who it is, so long as the work's done."

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FORE:"Be brief, Sir Blacksmith," replied the Baron, surprised at the abrupt question, "be brief with whatever you have to say."

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FORE:"Her beauty, my lord."

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FORE:The Tower clock had just struck ten, and father John was reading a Latin manuscript by the light of a small lamp, when the door of his prison opened, and the glare of a large wax-light, preceding a lady, almost dazzled his eyes. The torch-bearer, placing the torch in a convenient position against the wall, retired, leaving the monk and the lady alone.

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"My child is well now!" said Margaret in a stifled voice.
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"Some," said Reuben, "but I like 'em coloured best."Reuben seemed to have an endless supply of money.[Pg 62] He, whom she had seen deny himself white bread and tobacco, and scold his mother if she used eggs to make a pudding, did not seem now to care how much he spent for her amusement. He vowed, laughing, that she should not leave the shie till she had brought down a nut, and the showman pocketed pennies till he grinned from ear to ear, while Naomi threw the wooden balls in all directions, hitting the showman and the spectators and once even Reuben himself. At last he took her arm, and putting himself behind her managed after one or two attempts to guide a successful throw. They went off laughing with her prize, and came once more to the open ground where Harry was still playing his fiddle.She laughed one of her coarse screaming laughs, with the additional drawback of mirthlessness; then she went out of the room, leaving Caro sobbing into suety palms."That was all we agreed upon to ask for," replied Black Jack, looking round upon his associates.
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