Then he saw Orion hanging over him, very low in the windy sky, shaking with frost. His eyes fixed themselves on the constellation, then gradually he became aware of the sides of a cart, of the smell of straw, of the movement of other bodies that sighed and stirred beside him. The physical experience was now complete, and soon the emotional had shaped itself. Memory came, rather sick. He remembered the fight, his terror, the flaming straw, the crowd that constricted and crushed him like a snake. His rage and hate rekindled, but this time without focushe hated just everyone and everything. He hated the wheels which jolted him, his body because it was bruised, the other bodies round him, the stars that danced above him, those unknown footsteps that tramped beside him on the road.During the moments that elapsed between the order and the appearance of the men, De Boteler threw himself back in his chair, and was apparently engaged in counting the number of studs in his glittering sword-hilt; and the smith (who, although he felt himself a freeman, yet, from a natural principle of deference, did not consider he was at liberty to depart until the baron had given him an intimation to that effect,) stood, with something of an embarrassed air, awaiting the permission, and the idea every instant crossing his mind whether this summoning of the retainers could have any reference to him. But his suspense was not of long durationthe retainers entered, and De Boteler, raising himself in his chair, said, pointing to Turner,It was about half a mile to the churchover the hanger of Tidebarn Hill. The morning was full of soft loamy smells, quickening under the February sun, which is so pale and errant, but sometimes seems to have the power to make the earth turn in its sleep and dream of spring. Peasmarsh church-tower, squab like a toadstool, looked at itself in the little spread of water at the foot of the churchyard. Beside this pool, darkened with winter sedges, stood Parson Barnaby, the Curate-in-Charge of Peasmarsh, Beckley, and Iden. His boots under his surplice were muddy and spurred, for he had just galloped over from a wedding at Iden, and his sweat dropped on the book as he read "I know that my[Pg 28] Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth."
