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"I'm here, old feller," said Reuben with a clumsy effort at tenderness.

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TWO:De Boteler moved from the illuminated bier, and entered the hall with a haughty step; and as his eye fell on Father John, the frown on his brow increased. He did not, however, appear to heed him, but, turning to the abbot's messenger, said,

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TWO:"The 'act of grace,' my lord," said Father John, looking sternly at De Boteler, "only shows that your mind is not so fully convinced of this woman's guilt as to embolden you to take the charge of her death entirely upon your own conscience"

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TWO:This evening he sat very still beside the dead. Only once he drew down the sheet from his father's face and gazed at the calm features, already wearing that strange sculpt look which is the gift of death. The peaceful lips, the folded hands, seemed part of an embracing restfulness. Reuben's heart warmed with a love in which was little grief. He thought of his father's lifecalm, kindly, comfortable, ambitionless. He had[Pg 23] been happy; having wanted little he had attained it and had died enjoying it."D?an't cry," he said slowly"I'm only looking in at the window."

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FORE:"I do swear," said De Boteler, taking a crucifix from the monk, who extended one towards him, and kneeling before Richard; "I do swear, upon this blessed cross, and before my liege lord, that if my child is restored to me, so that I can claim him as my own, I will release every bondman within this manor, and that, from thenceforth, there shall be no more bondage in the barony of Sudley."

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FORE:She gave him sympathy, too, in a childlike way. She did not like it if he interrupted his love-making to tell her about his plans for Boarzell, but at other moments she seemed to enjoy hearing him talk of his ambition; and often, when the jar and failure of things depressed him, she would take him in her arms, and soothe him like a baby with"Of course you'll have Boarzell, my[Pg 252] Reuben; of course it will be yoursyou're so strong and masterful, you're bound to get all you want."

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FORE:"Could you do it wud all the colours on it and all that?all the pinks you git on it sometimes, and the lovely yaller the gorse m?akes?"

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FORE:"Me!fur a hemmed Radical! You'd better have saved your money, young fellerI'm shut of you."

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FORE:"Thomas Calverley," replied Holgrave, firmly, "if you mean me to say whether I burned my cottage or not, I will tell these honest men (looking at the jury) that I did so. All here present, know the rest."

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FORE:"Well, Alice," he said huskily.

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TWO:"Wot's the matter wud you?" asked a gruff voice.

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THREE:That autumn Naomi entered on a time of black depressionan utter gloom and weariness of body and mind. It was no mere dull staggering under blows, merciful in its blindness and lack of acute feelingit was a clear-eyed misery, in which every object was as distinct as it was dark, like one of those sudden clearings of a stormy landscape, when trees, hedges, meadows, loom under the frowning sky, outstanding and black in detail, more vivid than in sunshine.

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TWO:When in this Coat of Proof enveloped tight?"There, Miss Fannysee what a grand baby you are. Soon all the boys will be courting yousee if they don't. You shall always wear silk and muslins and sit on cushions, and you will always love your mother, won't you, dear little miss?"

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"Oh yes, but you did;don't you remember one Robin Wells, a stout rosy boy with curly hair, that made you a wreath of holly and ivyone All-hallows dayand put it on your head, and called you a little queen? You were ten years old that day, and it is just ten years and three days since then. Don't you remember it?"Notwithstanding the recent flush of pleasure which warmed the heart of the yeoman, his resolution appeared again to forsake himhe endeavoured to speak, but in vainhe appeared to be overwhelmed by a variety of contending emotions; but the stern voice of De Boteler aroused him, and in a choked voice, he pronounced after Calverley the fealty of a bondman, holding his right hand over the book:This evening he sat very still beside the dead. Only once he drew down the sheet from his father's face and gazed at the calm features, already wearing that strange sculpt look which is the gift of death. The peaceful lips, the folded hands, seemed part of an embracing restfulness. Reuben's heart warmed with a love in which was little grief. He thought of his father's lifecalm, kindly, comfortable, ambitionless. He had[Pg 23] been happy; having wanted little he had attained it and had died enjoying it.Should you do me to death with your dark treacherie?
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