Roland de Boteler was a man about six-and-twenty, of a tall, well-proportioned figure, with an open, handsome countenance; but there was a certain boldness or freedom in the laughing glance of his large black eyes, and in the full parted lips, blended with an expression, which though not perhaps exactly haughty or cruel, yet told distinctly enough that he was perfectly regardless of the feelings of his dependants, and considered them merely as conducive to his amusement, or to the display of military power. A doublet of crimson cloth, embroidered with gold, was well chosen to give advantage to his dark complexion. His tunic composed of baudykin, or cloth of gold, was confined round the waist by a girdle, below which it hung in full plaits, nearly to the knee,thus allowing little of his trunk hose, of rich velvet, corresponding in colour with the doublet, to be seen. Over his dress he wore a surcoat or mantle of fine violet-coloured cloth, fastened across the breast, with a gold clasp, and lined with minever. His hair, according to the fashion introduced by the Black Prince, when he brought over his royal captive, John of France, fell in thick short curls below a cap in colour and material resembling his mantle, and edged with minever; and the lip and chin wore neither mustachio nor beard.The outcry brought Mrs. Backfield from the next room, Naomi shivering in her wake. Reuben was trying to hold Harry down in bed.The Squire had called it blackmail and made a terrible fuss about it, but from the first the issues had been in Reuben's hands. A public scandal, the appearance of Flightshot's heir before the county magistrates on the charge of shooting a cow in a drunken frolic, was simply not to be contemplated; the only son of the Manor must not be sacrificed to make a rustic holiday. After all, ever since the Inclosure the Fair had been merely a matter of toleration; and as Backfield pointed out, it could easily go elsewhereto the big Tillingham[Pg 455] meadow outside Rye, for instance, where the wild beast shows pitched when they came. All things considered, resistance was not worth while, and Flightshot made its last capitulation to Odiam.
ONE:While o'er our hard-earned pence they gloat?
TWO:"The knaves have been merry on their march," replied Oxford. "Does your grace see the bonfires they have lit yonder?" and he pointed towards the north.
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ONE:She suddenly caught sight of his Latin grammar.
TWO:
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ONE:The Squire regretted the matter profoundly, but it was too late now not to proceed with it, so he made it a hundred times worse by writing an apologetic letter to Reuben, and asking the magistrate to deal gently with the offender. Robert's pathetic story, and the tearful evidence of his sweetheart, gave him at once all the public sympathy; the blame was divided pretty equally between the Bardons and Backfield.
TWO:"Stephen Holgrave!" cried the devotee, jumping up, "what brings you here at such an hour?"
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FORE:Robert and Peter also did their share, feeding fowls, weeding vegetables. Robert was a stolid, well-behaved child, a trifle uninteresting, but hard-working and obedient. Pete was Reuben's delighta wonderfully sturdy little fellow, who often amazed his father and Beatup by his precocious feats of strength. To amuse them he would sometimes shoulder Beatup's tools, or pick up a bag of chicken-meal with his teethhe could even put his back against a young calf and prevent it entering a gate or reaching its stall. Reuben was careful not to let him strain himself, but he loved to handle his son's arms and shoulders, feeling the swell of the muscles under the skin. He even taught him the rudiments of boxing; he had had some practice himself as a boy in the Fair sparring booth, and though of late years he had been too busy to keep it up, he was a good teacher for little Pete, who could soon lick all his brothers and even deliver respectable punishment on Beatup's[Pg 122] nether limbs. Richard at the age of six was not of any great agricultural value, but at the village school he outshone the elder boys. Sometimes he gave Reuben anxious moments, for the smell of the midden now and then made him sick, which was scarcely a hopeful sign."Rose, marry me."
FORE:"Lard, boy!and why should you care if they d?an't?"
FORE:Suddenly a great hullish lad sprang forward, rushed up to one of the fence-stakes, and flung it with a tangle of wire into the air.
FORE:Holgrave, however, considering it better not to irritate the baron by a refusal, at length consented that Margaret should accompany him, and they quitted the cottage together.Chapter 9
FORE:With many tears, and the help of the kindly farmer's daughter at Eggs Hole, who acted as penwoman, Bessie wrote a letter to Robert in the Battery gaol:
FORE:The cool and determined tone of the chief justice exasperated the abbot; and, fixing a stern glance upon the judge,
FORE:"YesI know he is ambitious, but surely he doesn't want unwilling helpers.""Are they spirits?" asked the stranger in a subdued and terrified tone.
TWO:But the next moment he cast the coward feeling from him. His experience had given him immeasurable advantage over this babe. Realf who had never felt the sweat pouring like water down his tired body, who had never swooned asleep from sheer exhaustion, or lain awake all night from sheer anxiety, who had not sacrificed wife and children and friends and self to one dear, loved, darling ambition ... bah! what could he do against the man who had done all these things, and was prepared to go on doing them to the end?
TWO:His first sensation on returning to consciousness was of being jolted. It was, like most half-realised experiences, on the boundary line between sensation and emotion, an affair almost of the heart. Then gradually it became more physical, the heart-pain separated itself from the body-pain. His body was being jolted, his heart was just sick with the dregs of hate.
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TWO:"Stand aside, ye graceless carles! Shame to ye, cursed cravens, to serve a christian priest like an infidel! Stand back, or, by St. Nicholas! you will never die on your beds!" dealing sturdy blows as he spoke, and pressing forward to a postern beside the principal gate which was not many paces from the keep.
Byles, who was of the party, but had hitherto looked on as a spectator, (being determined to allow the steward and the yeoman to fight it out,) now glared fiercely around in search of an adversary. A cry from Calverley, however, drew him unwillingly to his assistance, and he sprang to the spot; but his uplifted arm was seized by a giant grasp, the axe wrenched from his hands, and himself hurled violently to the earth."I want my blue negleegyI must show you my blue negleegy," she panted, up to her elbows in underlinen.