"It was well," replied Holgrave; "I am a freeman, and may go where I list, and not King Edward himself shall insult a freeman's wife!but do not weep, Margaret, I am not angered with you."Chapter 19
Want More Icons Free ? Checkout fontawesome website and use any icon Click Here.
She kissed and admired the infant, inquired of Margaret's health, bade her hope for better days, and then proceeded to talk of affairs at the castle;how the baroness still continued to weep and lament; and how De Boteler, ever since he had returned from London, had been almost distractedone minute crying and raving that there was some traitor at the castle who had connived at the abduction of his child, and that he would discover him and hang him up without form of trial,and the next offering large rewards and free pardon to any one who could give the slightest information, even though they should have aided in the theft;and once he even went so far as to promise pardon to the actual offender. As, of course, this strange occurrence had been a prolific source of speculation to the gossips, Lucy proceeded to detail a number of stories she had heard on the subject.At nights he slept upstairs in one of the attics, which always smelt of apples, because it was next to the loft where the apples were stored. He was happy there, in spite of some dark hours when the deadlock of his married life kept him awake. He wondered if there was a woman in the world who could share his ambitions for Odiam. He expected not, for women were an ambitionless race. If Naomi had had a single spark of zeal for the great enterprise in which he and she were engaged, she would not now be lying exhausted by her share in it. He had honoured her by asking her to join him in this splendid undertaking, and all she had done had been to prove that she had no fight in her.He drew back from her a little. Why should she lie to him about her tears?"Well, it would never have done if the old man had got to know of it. Good heavens, Tilly! How can you live on with that old brute?"She had shut the door, and stood against it, a tall,[Pg 134] rather commanding figure, in spite of her snow-covered garments and dishevelled hair.Reuben often went to the Cocks, for he had heard it[Pg 419] said that one's beer-drinking capacities diminished with old age, and he was afraid that if he stayed away, men would think it was on that account. So he went frequently, particularly if the weather was of a kind to keep old people at home. He did not talk much, preferring to listen to what was said, sitting quietly at his table in the corner, with the quart of Barclay and Perkins's mild which had been his evening drink from a boy.
