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ONE:Reuben had bought thirty-five more acres of Boarzell in '81, and thirty in '84. The first piece was on the Flightshot side of the Moor, by Cheat Land, the second stretched from the new ground by Totease over to Burntbarns. Now only about fifty acres, including the Fair-place and the crest, remained to be won outside the Grandturzel inclosure. Bardon publicly announced his intention never to sell the Fair-place to Backfield. Flightshot and Odiam had not been drawn together by Richard's marriage. At first Reuben had feared that the Squire might take liberties on the strength of it, and had been stiffer than ever in his unavoidable intercourse with the Manor. But Bardon had been, if anything, stiffer still. He thoroughly disapproved of Backfield as an employer of laboursome of his men were housed, with their families, in two old barns converted into cottages at the cheapest rateand as he was too hard up to refuse to sell him Boarzell, he could express his disgust only by his attitude. Fine shades of manner were apt to be lost on Reuben, but about the refusal to sell the Fair-place there could be no mistake."How could I? I didn't know how uncle was going to leave his money."
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ONE:Reuben and Rose were married in the January of '70. It was the earliest date compatible with the stocking of her wardrobe, a business which immediately absorbed her to the exclusion of everything else.
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TWO:She rose the next morning with a bad headache and her eyes staring rather plaintively out of black saucers. None the less she was happy, even in spite of her[Pg 344] regrets. She loved and had been loved, so she told herself over and over again as she dressed David and Bill and prepared the breakfast. Why, even if, when he got home, Joe Dansay discovered that he did not really love her, she would still have had his love, and as for herself, she would go on loving him for ever"for ever and ever and ever," she repeated in a low, trembling voice as she cut her father's bacon."I couldn't have stood much more, and this will be a good excuse."

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TWO:"That's rightfor you've no call to be. I was driven to this, couldn't help myself. Besides, I'm no worse than a lot of women wot you call respectableat least, I put some sort of a price on myself, if it's only five shillings. Now good night, young men, and thank you[Pg 405] for a very pleasant evening. I don't suppose as you'll ever see me again. And mindyou tell father as, no matter the life I lead and the knocks I get, I've never once, not once, regretted the day I ran off from his old farm. Now mindyou tell him that.""When did you find him?"

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TWO:If Grandturzel had fared as badly he could have borne it, but Grandturzel, though scarred, came out of the summer less battered than he. Realf's oats, being in a more sheltered position, did no private threshing of their own; his hops for the most part escaped the blight, and though he lost a good deal on his plums, his apples were harvested at a record, and brought him in nearly ten pounds an acre. On both farms the milk had done badly, but as Realf's dairy business was not so extensive as Backfield's, he was better able to stand its partial collapse.The other boys were much younger than Reuben, who thumped their heads to let off some of his uncomfortable feelings. Indeed, there was talk of putting him with the grown-up prisoners, till the magistrate realised that juveniles were more easily disposed of. The scene at the court-house was so hurried that he scarcely knew he had been tried till the constable took him by the collar and threw him out of the dock. Then came some dreary moments of waiting in a little stuffy, whitewashed room, while the Town Crier dealt with the victims separately.

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TWO:The two men met in the kitchen, Peter backing up his father, and for a long time the scene was stormy, the word "roots" whirling about the conversation, with the prefix "my good" or "your hemmed" as the case might be. Realf was genuinely angryReuben's attitude of mingled truculence and scorn had wounded even his easy pride.
THREE:As the year climbed up again into spring, a tender pity for Bessie mingled with Robert's love. It was not the pity which begets love, but the sweeter kind which is begotten of it. Robert forgot all about his own hard life, the monotonous ruthless grind of work, the absence of all softness, homeliness, or sympathy, the denial of all gaiety and sport. He thought only of Bessie's troubles, and would have given the world to lighten[Pg 144] them. He longed to give her some little treat, or a present. But he had no money. For the first time he inwardly rebelled against the system which kept him penniless. None of the boys had any money, except Pete on Fair daysnot even Albert, for the Rye Advertiser did not pay its poets. For the first time Robert saw this as unjust.Alice laughed.
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THREE:"Steward," said the Lady Isabella on the following morning, "Holgrave rejects his foodI fear I must release him!""Yes," replied Holgrave; "and enough too, I think, for any reasonable man at one time."
"I've won," he said softly to himself, while behind him the blazing gorse spat and crackled and sent flames up almost to the clouds with triumphant roars"I've wonand it's bin worth while. I've wanted a thing, and I've got it, surelyeand I ?un't too old to enjoy it, nuther. I may live to be a hunderd, a man of my might. But if I go next week, I shan't complain, fur I've lived to see my heart's desire. I've fought and I've suffered, and I've gone hard and gone rough and gone emptybut I haven't gone in vain. It's all bin worth it. Odiam's great and Boarzell's mineand when I die ... well, I've lived so close to the earth all my days that I reckon I shan't be afraid to lie in it at last."He had used to turn from Boarzell to her for rest, and now he found himself turning from her to Boarzell. It was part of the baffling paradox that the thing he fought should also be the thing he loved, and the battlefield his refuge. Out on the Moor, with the south-west wind rolling over him like the waves of some huge earth-scented sea, he drank in the spirit of conflict, he was swept back into the cleanness and singleness of his warfare. It was then that Boarzell nerved him for its own subduing, stripped his heart of softness, cleansed it of domestic fret. Rose and her love and sweetness were all very well, but he was out for something greater than Rosehe must keep in mind that she was only a part of things. Why, he himself was only a part of things, and in his cravings and softenings must be conquered and brushed aside even as Rose. In challenging Boarzell he had challenged the secret forces of his own body, all the riot of hope and weakness and desire that go to make a man. The battle was not to be won except over the heaped bodies of the slain, and on the summit of the heap would lie his own.There was a convention of silence between Caro and Rose. From that day forward neither made any allusion to the escapade which had ended so unexpectedly. At the same time it was from the other's silence that each learned most; for Caro knew that if her eyes had deceived her and that last kiss been like the first, for fun, Rose would have spoken of itwhile Rose knew that Caro had seen the transmutation of her joke into earnest, because if she had not she would have been full of comments, questions, and scoldings.In Reuben's eyes Naomi was just as irritating and ridiculous as Harry. She made foolish clothes for Fanny, quite unfit for a child in her positionmuslins and ribbon bows, little knitted shoes, which she was forever pulling off to kiss the baby's feet. She would seat her on some high big chair in which she lolled with grotesque importance, and would kneel before her and call her "Miss Fanny."Both boys started, and stared at her in utter blankness."Yes, Byles, and especially since you will not be asked to say it for nothing," returned Calverley with a slight sarcastic smile; but immediately assuming a more earnest and friendly tone, he continued, "I have promised you gold, and gold you shall have. I will befriend you to the utmost of my power, and you know my influence is not small at the castle; but you must swear to be faithful. Here," said he, stooping down and taking up a rotten branch that lay at his feet, and, breaking it in two, he placed it in the form of a cross. "Here, Byles, swear by this cross to be faithful." Byles hesitated for an instant, and then, in rather a tremulous voice, swore to earn faithfully his wages of sin.
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