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The son sprang to his feet, and helped his mother, whose stoutness and stiffness made it a difficult matter, to rise too.Unluckily, however, he was not made for a career of prolonged fraud, and he ingloriously foundered in that sea of practical details through which the cunning man must steer his schemes. He fixed the number of rabbits to be sold at Rye as ten a week, pocketing the surplus whether it were one or six. This was a pretty fair average, but its invariable occurrence for seven or eight weeks could not fail to strike Reuben, whose brain was not placid and slow-moving like his son's."Your servant, ma'am," he said, as he opened the gate; and she answered classically:
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ONE:At Odiam Rose shook off her seriousness. Supper was ready, and undaunted by the huge meal she had already eaten, she sat down to it with a hearty appetite. Her step-children stared at her curiouslyRose had a gust of affection for them. Poor things!their lives had been so crude and dull and innocent. She must give them a little brightness now, soften the yoke of Reuben's tyrannythat girl Caro, for instance, she must[Pg 259] give her some pretty clothes and show her how to arrange her hair becomingly. THREE:Towards two in the afternoon he came in, tired and puff-eyed with misery, his brain all of a jangle. "Why don't you keep bees, Reuben? Why don't you keep bees?"

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ONE:Farewell to Moll, farewell to Sue!"
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ONE:"Oh, ma'am, ma'amif ever you cud help me get[Pg 171] freeif ever ... oh, II'd sarve you all my lifeI'd"His loneliness seemed to drive Reuben closer to the earth. He still had that divine sense of the earth being at once his enemy and his only friend. Just as the gorse which murders the soil with its woody fibres sweetens all the air with its fragrance, so Reuben when he fought the harsh strangling powers of the ground also drank up its sweetness like honey. He did not work so hard as formerly, though he could still dig his furrow with the best of themhe knew that the days had come when he must spare himself. But he maintained his intercourse with the earth by means of long walks in the surrounding country.
THREE:Holgrave looked contempt, and spoke defiance; but Calverley retired without seeming to heed either his looks or his words."And so there is, childbut I am old; and the aged, as well as the young, love to be talking. Stephen, you must bear with your mother."

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THREE:"You can go to the CocksI w?an't have you in my house."

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FORE:She stood hesitating on the doorstep. Should she knock? Then a terrible thought struck her. Reuben must have meant to lock her out. Otherwise he would have sat up for her, however late she had been. She started trembling all over, and felt her skin grow damp.

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FORE:"Wot have you come fur?"

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FORE:

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FORE:Chapter 7

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FORE:For though he did not care for Odiam he loved the country round it, and made a wonderland and a dreamland of it. He did not see in Boarzell Robert's tree-capped waste, though neither did he see his father's enemy and heart's delight. He saw instead a kind of enchanted ground, full of mysteries of sun and moon, full of secrets that were sometimes beautiful, sometimes terrifying. It seemed to have a soul and a voice, a low voice, hoarse yet sweet; and its soul was not the soul of a man or of a beast, but the soul of a fetch, some country sprite, that clumped, and yet could skip ... he[Pg 128] used to feel it skipping with him in the evening wind when the dusk made the heather misty round his knees ... but he knew that it danced heavy-footed round the farm at night, clumping, clumping, like a clod.Chapter 7

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FORE:The floor seemed to rise towards him, and the star in the window to dance down into Castweasel woods and up again.

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The son sprang to his feet, and helped his mother, whose stoutness and stiffness made it a difficult matter, to rise too.Unluckily, however, he was not made for a career of prolonged fraud, and he ingloriously foundered in that sea of practical details through which the cunning man must steer his schemes. He fixed the number of rabbits to be sold at Rye as ten a week, pocketing the surplus whether it were one or six. This was a pretty fair average, but its invariable occurrence for seven or eight weeks could not fail to strike Reuben, whose brain was not placid and slow-moving like his son's."Your servant, ma'am," he said, as he opened the gate; and she answered classically:
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But before they had time to answer, something burst from between the stalls and ran down the darkling slope, brandishing a knife. It was Mexico Bill, running amok, as he had sometimes run before, but on less crowded occasions. The women sent up an ear-splitting yell, and made a fresh onslaught on the hedge. Someone grabbed the half-breed from behind, but his knife flashed, and the next moment he was free, dashing through the gorse towards his victims.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.He then wandered about with a look of still deeper despondence, till the trampling of the returning horses sent a transient tinge across his cheek. He followed Roland's attendants, and again entered the court-yard. By some chance, as the young rider was alighting, his eye fell on the dejected stranger, who was standing at a little distance fixing an anxious gaze upon the heir."I'll tell you wot it is, then!" cried Reuben"it's bad stacking. This hay ?un't bin pr?aperly driedit's bin stacked damp, and them ricks have gone alight o' themselves, bust up from inside. It's your doing, this here is, and I'll m?ake you answer fur it, surelye.""How?speak!" said Sudbury.
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