LI B R.AFIY OF THE UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS 2>22> IV\G24b v.) CENTRAL CIRCULATION AND BOOKSTACKS The person borrowing this material is responsible for its renewal or return before the Latest Date stamped below. You may be charged a minimum fee of $75.00 for each non-returned or lost item. Theft, mutilation, or defacement of library materials can be causes for student disciplinary action. All materials owned by the University of Illinois Library are the property of the State of Illinois and are protected by Article 16B of Illinois Criminal Law and Procedure. TO RENEW, CALL (217) 333-8400. University of Illinois Library at Urbana-Champaign i i L uU5 When renewing by phone, write new due date below previous due date. LI 62 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2009 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/belleofvillage01mill THE ^^ BELLE OF THE VILLAGE, JOHN MILLS, AUTHOR OF "the OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN, "OUR COUNTY," &C. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. L LONDON : COLBURN & CO., PUBLISHERS, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1852. Notice is hereby given, that the Publishers of this work reserve to them- selves the right of publishing a Translation in France. LONDON: M. S. MYERS, PRINTER, 22, TAVISTOCK STREET, COVENT OARDEN. 8^3 V. 1 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. CHAPTER I. Long ago — it matters not when — the in- '^ habitants of a vilWe in one of the rural * districts of England were not a little sur- prised by a stranger in the sable garb of a ^ widow, accompanied by a little girl, making inquiries for furnished lodgings. It was a most astonishing proceeding; at least so everybody thought, and so everybody said. Who could they be ? Where did they come H. VOL. I, B 4 2 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. from ? Why were they there ? By what brought ? How did they arrive ? In chaise, cart, carriage, coach, van, waggon, or wheel- barrow? No one seemed to know. Numerous were the questions, but painfully few the answers to them. At length the general shopkeeper, whose curiosity on all subjects wherein mystery was involved, mounted like quicksilver in the sun, could no longer submit to the pressure from within, and, in order to obtain the relief he desired, deter- mined upon taking the matter in hand him- self, as he would a parcel duly consigned from the wholesale house with which he dealt, and stripping it of all outward con- cealment, lay bare, exposed and palpable, that which was now wrapped in fog, clouds, and darkness. Jacob Giles was as mild a little man as ever craned a long thin neck over a little white wisp of a cravat. His hair, always a THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 3 poor crop in liis sunniest days, looked like thistle down gummed in patches upon a pink scalp ; while, as if his system was denied the usual qualities of nutrition, he was com- pletely devoid of eyebrows, eyelashes, and whiskers. Nothing, indeed, could present a smoother surface than Jacob's counte- nance; more particularly when, with a bland smile, he rested his knuckles on the counter of the general shop, and leaning slightly forward, said, " What may be the next article, Mem?" Just above the tape, however, which held the sweeping white apron round his girdle, as soft, tender, and easily-melted a little heart throbbed, as ever beat within the confines of a human bosom. It was as easily moulded to the slightest touch of want or suffering, as a pat of fresh butter to the dairymaid's stamp. Jacob Giles, diminutive as he was, pos- sessed an enlarged view of ^' doing unto B 2 4 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Others as he wished they should do unto him ; " and although, by care and thrift, never knowing what the necessities of life were, he had not become deaf or indifferent to those of his less fortunate neighbours who might be frequently sensible of nature's im- mediate demands, without the resources of an equally ready supply. Notwithstanding these sentiments, which rung like sound bell- metal from the secret recesses of Jacob's anatomy, it must be confessed that he was tainted to the backbone with the vulgar incli- nation of knowing everybody's business, even in preference to his own ; and was never at rest, either mentally or physically, until all nevfs, hints, rumours, reports, suspicions, and mysteries, coming under his lynx-eyed notice, were thoroughly sifted, winnowed, and rendered clear and transparent to his perception. A stranger asking for furnished lodgings THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 5 in the village of Grundy's Green ! Such a circumstance had not been heard of within the memory of the oldest inhabitant ; and as for apartments, they were not to be had, except the sandy-floored parlour with the room over it, at the Harrow and Pitchfork ; and the former of these was invariably oc- cupied each Saturday night by the members of the Rollicking Club. "You'll excuse me, Mem," observed Jacob, between a squeak and a whistle, for he was sadly at a loss for breath, from the haste he had exercised in overtaking the mysterious strangers, now at the extremity of Grundy's Green; "You'll excuse me, Mem," repeated he, glancing from the tall figure of the lady to that of the child, holding timidly the hand of her companion, as she nestled to her side with fear, *^but," and the general shopkeeper gently chafed the tips of his long freckled fingers together, " if I'm informed b THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. co-rectly, you are desirous of obtaining furnished lodgings in our village." " Indeed," replied the stranger, throwing back a deep fall of crape, which hitherto had effectually acted as a perfect screen to her features, " I'm exceedingly anxious of so doing; but there appears — " " Some difficulty in getting what you re- quire, Mem," continued Jacob, pretending to close his eyes — the fox — but in reality to peep at the face presented to his full view with less strain upon his modesty, and w^hich something warm and glowing within told him in strict confidence that it was the loveliest — albeit ghastly pale — that his light blue, and somewhat fishy organs of vision had ever rested on. " Perhaps you can render me some as- sistance," returned the lady, ^' for I'm very wearied and — " she hesitated to conclude the sentence, and the words died upon her lips. Jacob Giles's curiosity received a fresh THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 7 Stimulus from this, and with pricked ears he almost gasped, " very wearied and — " " 111, Sir, I would have said," she added, in a subdued tone, and glancing furtively at the child. " Very wearied and very ill! " ejaculated Jacob, as the gimblet of compassion drilled its way straight as an arrow to his sensitive core. " What can be done, my dear Mem? What can /do?" " Is there no place near wherein I can have an hour's rest? " she rejoined, faintly, '' I am much in want of it." " To be sure there is, Mem," said Jacob Giles, encouragingly. " My shop's not a quarter of a mile off, and over it there's a snuggery, much at your service. Some- times, Mem, this snuggery, in the hot weather, and when the new cheeses come in fresh, doesn't smell as one could wish ; but at the present moment, Mem, there's nothing 8 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE, less sweet in it than a pot of mignionette and a handful of Avoodbine." " I am deeply sensible of your proffered kindness," replied the stranger, in a tremu- lous voice, " and will accept the offer with heartfelt thankfulness." Turning to retrace her footsteps, she stag- gered, as if a sudden faintness had overcome her ; and had not Jacob's ready hand been near, to render the required support, she probably might have fallen to the ground. '^ There, my dear Mem," said Jacob, drawing the lady's arm through his own, with a secret resolve that she should have a night's rest in the snuggery at least, if not a week's. "There, there, my dear Mem! a glass of my sparkling gooseberry will soon set all things straight. Yes, yes. The day's warm and close, and you're travel-worn. There, lean on me. I'm stronger than 1 look, much stronger ; '* and with many suck THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. d terras and phrases, he conducted his unknown guest, tenderly and in silence, towards the promised haven of his snuggery. As may be visibly perceived in the mind's eye, without the smallest stretch of the ima- gination, the inhabitants of Grundy's Green were more than ordinarily moved with the sight of Jacob Giles leading the unknown lady through the village; and many heads were thrust from door and window, and gazes of bewilderment exchanged, as they neared his domicile. But when the door was gained, and he was palpably seen to point the way through the shop, and by a waving motion of his dexter hand, invite the strangers to mount the stairs leading to the snuggery, no common pen can describe the excitement prevailing from one end of Grundy's Green to the other. The circum- stances surrounding, as with a haze, this unprecedented event, had now become so 10 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. far beyond the reach of the highest-flown speculations, that mute amazement took possession of each and all. Even the most prone to gossip, with one consent appeared to abandon the use of their tongues, and, for once in their lives, to feel the total in- adequacy of the gift of speech. " There, Mem," said Jacob, throwing open the door of his snuggery, and exhibiting the economy of the interior with no little satisfaction, " I beg you'll make yourself at home. Let me, my dear Mem," continued he, wheeling a well-cushioned sofa to the open window, " assist you. There, now take your rest, and don't let the thought of ' starting come into your head." " You are very kind," replied the stranger, in a feeble and exhausted tone, as she dropped upon the sofa. " Not at all," rejoined Jacob, flying about the room in the greatest haste to accomplish THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 11 something ; but what that something was, it is impossible to conjecture, as he nearly- upset all the fire-irons, two chairs, and the coal-scuttle. "Not at all," repeated he, "far from it." " Clara," said the lady, " come here, love, and let me untie your bonnet" " Permit me, Mem," returned Jacob, and the succeeding instant he began fastening the child's bonnet strings in such a com- plication of the hardest knots, that there appeared little likelihood of their ever finding mortal fingers to untwist them, "I think. Sir," said Clara, looking up- wards with an appealing look, for her neck began to ache most painfully, " that you had better let mamma try." " My dear little dear," replied Jacob, " I'm precisely of your o-pinion," and as the task was transferred to abler hands, and Clara's clustering nut-brown curls fell upon 12 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. her shoulders like the tendrils of the wild hop-vine, the little general shopkeeper's eyes became rivetted as upon a picture of transcendent beauty. Indeed, no limner's art could trace features of greater childish loveliness. Her dark violet eyes were fringed with long web-like lashes, black as a raven's feather, and the iinely-arched eyebrows looked like two thin strokes from a pencil's point. Lofty, and white as polished ivory, was the brow, and the delicately chiselled, and slightly aquiline nose was only surpassed in beauty by the red pouting lips, which the birds might have pecked for cherries red and ripe. Upon her cheeks, the tinge of the ripening peach spread its shade, and, above all, the sunny expression of her features betokened hidden beauties of far greater worth. With a slight and even fragile figure, Clara pos- sessed no appearance of that lurking and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 13 insidious disease, which often nips the bud ere it blossoms. There was health in her bounding step and joyous tone, and, although now and then a cloud of melan- choly fell upon her face, it was only when her eyes became thoughtfully fixed on those of her mother, and then sad reflections seemed to rise of coming sorrows whose shades were cast before. After several futile attempts to arrange the fire-irons in their assigned position, Jacob Giles made a dive — for nothing more of him was left visible than the skirt of his coat — into a deep cupboard, or recess, placed in a corner of the room, and began drawing forth, in rapid succession, the varied stores contained within it : oranges, cakes, ginger- bread, plums, nuts, raisins, apples, pears, biffins, bottles of gooseberry, currant, ginger, and cowslip wines, in addition to a capacious jar of cherry brandy ; all of which he begged 14 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. and entreated might meet with a concen- trated and simultaneous attack, without the further waste of a moment. "My dear Mem/' said Jacob, enthusias- tically, and his eyes sparkled almost as brightly as the wine which he now gurgled from the bottle, " take a glass of my own importation; I mean my own making. Better gooseberry," continued he, " was never squeezed from gooseberries." Without waiting for assent or dissent, the hospitable general shopkeeper plied his guests so bountifully, that had his directions been complied with with anything like strictness, they must literally have been choked with sweets. Greatly, however, to the mental uneasi- ness of Jacob Giles, he saw not the slightest possible progress made in the demolition of the multifarious good things which he had so liberally provided. The strangers THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 15 expressed their grateful thanks for the kindness displayed by their entertainer; but Clara stood with an arm encircling the neck of her mother, who reclined upon the couch in a manner pourtraying the greatest exhaustion, and neither seemed disposed to yield to his pressing solicitations to try the " excellent gooseberry." " Presently," said the latter, slightly raising herself, and speaking in a tone scarcely above a whisper, " presently. Sir, I hope to be sufficiently recovered to partake of your hospitality; but, if I may venture to express a wish, without giving offence, it is to be left alone for a brief half hour." " Alone ! " exclaimed Jacob, " to be sure, my dear Mem. Neither man, woman, nor child shall disturb ye. I see you want quiet, and quiet you shall have. Yes, yes, leave that to me. If anything's wanted," continued he, addressing himself to Clara, 16 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " touch that hand -bell on the table, my dear little dear, and — and — and I'll fly to serve ye. My maid-of-all-work, or housekeeper, as she calls herself, is as deaf as an adder ; but quicker ears than mine — probably from their length — were never known, I should say/' and with this humorous panegyric upon his organs of hearing, Jacob Giles made as nimble an exit as a pair of lean legs, encased in drab, short, anti-continu- ations, and ribbed cotton stockings, can well be imagined capable of accomplishing. " Are you very ill, dear Mamma? " said Clara, as the door closed upon the ribbed cotton stockings, and, as she spoke, she twined her arms fondly around her mother, and pressed her cheek closely to hers. " I hope not, dearest," was the reply. " But, tell me what you think, '^ rejoined Clara, earnestly. * '' It may be only fatigue," returned her THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 17 mother, " and I trust a little rest may soon restore me." " I never saw you look so pale — so very pale, before," added the child, as tears began to steal from her eyelids, and course them- selves down her cheeks. '' Don't weep, dearest one," said her mother. ''It will but increase my paleness to see you thus. Come, come," and she drew her closer to her bosom. VOL T. 18 CHAPTER IL It was a thick watch which Jacob Giles wore in his fob. Rounds roomy, and not unlike a turnip in shape, it might have been used for a warming-pan at a pinch. How often did the little general shop- keeper tug at the bunch of burnished seals which dangled at the end of a steel chain, and drag this corpulent keeper of time's stealthy progress, to mark the minutes as they passed. It was a long half-hour, one of the longest that ever trailed its weary THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 19 length over the index of a dial, and Jacob began to entertain suspicions that he must have omitted to give it its customary wind up, and held it occasionally to his ear, to test the accuracy of his fears. There was the well-remembered tick-tick, however, which first saluted him upon receiving it as a guerdon from his master, at the ex- piration of his apprenticeship, forty years ago, and more. Jacob Giles started as if a galvanic shock had thrilled through his nerves. The shrill and piercing tongue of the hand-bell rang through the house, and, with a heart beat- ing a succession of double-knocks in his breast, he dropped the cheese-taster, and rushed up the stairs with the wings which fear often lends to heels far less agile than the little general shopkeeper's. "What's the matter?" cried he, as he jerked the door of the snuggery back upon c 2 20 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. its hinges ; but the scene which presented itself afforded sufficient explanation. The apparently lifeless form of the lady laid stretched upon the couch, while the child was on her knees, wildly clasping her hands, and giving expression to the most poignant grief. Bloodless and in- animate, the mother looked beyond all human aid, and her features resembled those carved from a block of the whitest marble. " Stay, stay ! " cried Jacob, as he placed a hand upon the cold and clammy brow of the stranger. " It is but a fainting fit. Here," continued he, offering a vial of hartshorn, but so rapid were his move- ments, that it is impossible to say whence he procured it; "hold this so, my dear little dear; just so, not too close. There, nothing can be better, while I go for a medical man. He shall be here sooner THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 21 than convenient despatch can bring him, rest assured ; " and with this fixed resolve to hasten the advent of the medical man, he made a departure distinguished only for its abruptnesso True to his word, Jacob scarcely ap- peared to have turned his heel upon the scene, when he returned, dragging firmly by the arm a diminutive, podgy, bald- headed man, gasping convulsively for breath, ^^ Now," said Jacob, *' there's your pa- tient, Doctor Grimes. Let us witness an exhibition of that skill. Sir, which has ex- alted you among the practitioners of the county in general, and the neighbourhood of Grundy's Green in particular." Doctor Grimes bowed, or, to be parti- cular as regards this movement, the bald part of his head became more distinct and palpable as he acknowledged the compii- 22 - THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. inent, with lips pursed with a self-satisfied smile, as if conscious and convinced of its being earned on the merits of the cause. " Humph, ha — a — ah ! " ejaculated Doc- tor Grimes, shaking his head with a conven- tional air of professional mystery. Jacob Giles whispered the ejaculation to himself, but seemed to derive no informa- tion from it. "Nature," began Doctor Grimes, with a slight preliminary cough, " and in speaking of nature," continued he, pressing the well- pared and filbert-shaped nails of the two first fingers of his right hand on the faint and fluttering pulse of his patient's left wrist, " I mean human nature, can only bear an amount of exhaustion propor- tionate to the stamina acting as the sup- ply. Now whenever," and Doctor Grimes spoke like a man who considered he had THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 23 studied his subject, ''the physical be- comes so far expended, as to be minus, and the exhaustion plus; what is the result?'' Jacob Giles felt somewhat at a loss to answer this query ; but he was soon re- lieved from the difficulty by the loquacious practitioner taking up the thread of his own discourse, and returning an answer in a way most likely to suit the majority of questioners. " The result is," resumed Doctor Grimes, " prostration of the animal functions, and not unfrequently a suspension of vitality itself." During this soliloquy the child continued in a kneeling posture, with her large, dark eyes fixed with a mixture of dread and in- quiry upon those of the speaker, and she only removed them to wipe the tears from her cheeks, as they coursed each other down in silent evidence of her grief. 24 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. The sufferer heaved a deeply-drawn sigh, and Clara pressed closer to her mother's side, when Doctor Grimes, taking her hand in his, gently raised her from the ground, and said, as he divided the clustering curls from her brow, '^Air is an aliment of which our patient stands most in need. Be composed, and leave her for a few moments," continued he, " and all will be well." '^0 Sir ! " exclaimed the child, in a passionate burst of sorrow, " do not take me from my mother — my dear, dear mother," and she struggled to release her- self from his hold. " Nay, nay," rejoined he, in a tender voice, and drawing Clara towards him, " I had no such cruel intention, my little — little — little" — the doctor was at a clear loss for a titular, but, after a pause, added '• seraph." THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 25 " To be sure not," added Jacob, sooth- ingly. "Don't take on so, my dear little dear," and the general shopkeeper found himself the succeeding minute nursing on his knees the sorrowful little Clara, who buried her face in his prominent shirt frill, to the great detriment of the starch, and exactness of its arrangements. Doctor Grimes now prepared to make a beginning of that professional skill so laudatory spoken of by Jacob Giles, and he turned up the cuffs of his coat-sleeves, con- veying symbolically, perhaps, the intelli- gence of an approaching fight, or wrestle with the ills and ailments of his patient, and from some secret depth of his garments extracted an ominous case of instrumerV which he placed on a table within reacu, as it appeared, to prove that he was alike prepared for extracting a molar, to the fixing of a tourniquet. 26 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. At this juncture the invalid, after an in- voluntary shudder vibrating through her frame, opened her eyes, and seeing Clara nestling among Jacob Giles's crimped cam- bric, a smile passed over her wan features, and extending her arms, the child leaped towards her, and both became twined and locked in an embrace of which those only loving and beloved know the value. " O Mamma!'' cried Clara, "I have been so frightened. Tell me, pray tell me, that you are well again." "I am better, dear one," replied her mother, faintly. " But not well," added Doctor Grimes, again bringing the bald patch to a front view of the spectator, as he bowed himself into notice. " It does not require. Madam, one to be deeply versed in the science of a pharmacopolist to discover that you THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 27 are not well," continued he, with emphasis on the negative. "And under the misfortunate circum- stances, Mem," chimed in Jacob Giles, gently shampooing the tips of his fingers, " mustn't think of stirring from my humble snuggery to-day.'^ " Nor for several days," said Doctor Grimes sternly; for when the vision of a bill presented itself, there was nothing more inimical to the doctor's feelings than for it to be dispelled *^ like the airy trace of nothing." '' We require," resumed he, closing his eyes, and again pressing his well-pared nails upon his patient's feeble pulse; "we require," and Doctor Grimes appeared to be reading by means of clair- voyance, "rest, gentle stimulants, and a general setting to rights, if I may so express myself, of a system suffering from organic debility, and inflammatory 28 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. action. That is my opinion," and Doc- tor Grimes coughed a firm defiance, as if he should much like to see the man, without loss of time, who would dare to oppose it. " And a co-rect one," observed Jacob, renewing the process of chafing his fingers, *^ you may rest assured. My friend, the doctor here," continued the general shop- keeper, with appealing humility, "if I may be bold enough so to call him — " Doctor Grimes expressed a condescend- ing acquiescence by bringing his bald patch a few inches nearer his feet. " And as I therefore do call him," con- tinued Jacob Giles, " is a medical man who has brought scores of matrons safely through their confinements, vaccinated hundreds of infants, drawn countless teeth, and physicked, cupped, bled, blistered, and clyster ed generations upon genera- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 29 tions. I need scarcely say," said Jacob, " that my friend, the doctor, ha& had some experience," "I have no doubt but the treatment which I shall receive at your hands, Sir," replied the invalid, ^* will be most judi- cious. But I fear," continued she, ad- dressing Jacob, with a look so full of gratitude and thankfulness, that it well nigh turned the solid muscle of his heart into a solution " in remaining your inmate for the time named, that I shall be greatly trespassing upon your kindness." " Precisely the opposite point of the compass, Mem, so to speak," rejoined Jacob. " 1 couldn't part with you, Mem, for a considerable premium." And then other kind words — words perhaps, which soothed a pain never to be healed — were spoken, and replied to, and Doctor Grimes, in the plenitude of 30 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. his wisdom, hastened away to prepare such potions as were never yet surpassed; and when Clara and her mother were left alone^ they wept less for sorrow than love for one another. 31 CHAPTER IlL The Harrow and Pitchfork, that well- known sign of the village hostelrie, has been mentioned ; but not the hostess of the hos- telrie, Mistress Twigg. There was no graft of a crab upon a pippin in Mistress Twigg ; for a more jolly, round and red-faced, blue- eyed, it must be added, corpulent dame, never foamed from the tap a tankard of ale, nor mixed in goblets fermented liquors of many kinds, and, possibly, qualities. She was always very neat and comely, was Mistress Twigg. It was generally supposed^ and as generally believed, that she possessed. 82 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. once upon a time, the legal right and title of a husband, in fee ; but who, or what Twigg was, or what became of him ; whether he died as became a Christian, between the domestic sheets, or drowned himself, or hastened his own decease by means of arsenic, laudanum, hanging, or any other of the popular means for cutting short the uncertain thread of life, no one seemed to entertain the most trifling interest. Poor Twigg ! it really might reasonably be con- jectured that he had been a mere will-o'the- wisp, a phantom, a myth, a nothing. Jt is but a speculative simile; but, as planets eclipse the light of parasites and lesser luminaries, so might have operated the effulgent rays of the hostess of the Harrow and Pitchfork upon the pale glow- worm lamp of the pitiable Twigg. He was as a sound for which memory found no echo. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 33 And there, in the bar-parlour — and of bar-parlours it was the pink of pinks — sat the paramount mistress of the Harrow and Pitchfork, commanding a comprehensive view of all and everything worthy of her attention. Not an ingress or egress could be effected without coming under her im- mediate scan, and with the keen perception of the necessity of guarding herself, her rights, and immunities from imposition (which, as a forlorn widow, she both thought and said was indispensable). Mistress Twigg measured a doubtful customer in the space of time fitly to be described as a twinkling. There was no want of decision among Mistress Twigg's charac- teristics. With as dazzling a cap as ever crimson ribbon fluttered in, and jauntily placed upon a head over which forty-and-six sum- mers had barely passed — Mistress Twigg VOL. T. D 34 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. disclaimed the small change, and stuck to the principal amount — without a single hair of the glossy brown curls being tinted with the silver hue of declining years, and kept in close order by a fillet of black velvet passed across the brow, the hostess ap- peared entombed in a reverie. Her chin — and a soft, crummy, double chin it was — creased with the tightened ribbon beneath it, and finishing in a conspicuous bunch of bows and ends, close under the left ear, was lowered even to her bosom. Now, with the full knowledge of the delicacy of touching upon this particular point of Mistress Twigg's person, it still seems ab- solutely necessary for the completion of her portrait with anything like truthfulness, that it should be stated that a more pro- minently-developed bosom was not often to be met with. Indeed, Mistress Twigg, as a half length, would have looked in this THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE, 35 respect, sadly out of proportion. As it was, however, her majestic figure smoothed and chiselled down this detriment; and there were no handsomer women, save in the opinions of her own sex, within a wide circle of Grundy's Green, than the popular hostess of the Harrow and Pitchfork. In her toilet, too, great nicety was ob- servable in the setting off those personal charms, albeit upon an extensive scale, with which nature had so liberally endowed her ; and from the crimson ribbon, to which reference has before been made, to the small silver buckle glittering on her pointed slipper. Mistress Twigg evinced a taste of no ordinary kind. Her black silk mantua was none of your cheap, faint, and flabby description, but gave due notice of her approach, by the loud rustling of its thick substantial folds^ encompassing her form in perfect waves; and the kerchief, neatly D 2 86 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. pinned across the aforesaid prominently- developed bosom, might have rivalled in whiteness the fresh-blown lily, or the snow- flake whirling in its course. At her girdle hung a complicated bunch of polished keys, which jingled musically as she walked ; and with these instruments of her housewifery, the slight sketch of Mistress Twigg shall be brought to a finish. A privileged few were admitted to the bar-parlour ; but only of the choicest kind, who might be ranked as the reigning favourites at the Harrow and Pitchfork. And here this picked and selected band would combine a little flirting with their political discussions, and, over their pipes and potent mixtures, banter Mistress Twigg upon the chances of a change of condition, and convey a flattering surprise that the alteration had not taken place long since. It might certainly be astonishing, but to THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 37 any hitherto serious advance, the widow had snuffed out love's flame as abruptly and effectually as extinguishing, by the same measures, the weak beam of a farthing rushlight. In vain had Jacob Giles himself, to the great scandal of his deaf and ascetic housekeeper, Bridget, entered the lists. Mistress Twigg felt proud, she said, of the honour, and entertained not the smallest doubt concerning the general shopkeeper's sincerity of feeling, or the extent of his pecuniary resources; but — and here shall be closed the continuation of what was said, for Jacob felt an icy chill run down the centre of his back, and he quitted the bar- parlour for his home, by no means happier, but better informed upon the state of the siege he had laid to the widow's affections. Knot in the same stereotyped phrase, each candidate for her hand met with a corresponding rebuff, and the hostess of the 38 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Harrow and Pitchfork remained from summer's prime to winter's gloom, the seasons round, a torturer of hearts and puzzler of brains. It seems ridiculous to recapitulate a fact so lately recited, but, for the thread to be taken up where it was dropped with abrupt- ness and considerable indifference towards the linking of events in the tale to be un- folded, it behoves the chronicler to repeat that Mistress Twigg, at the moment of her introduction into these pages, was buried in a reverie. Now, to the person of a chroni- cler there is a privilege ceded, to divulge even the thoughts of a woman's brain; diversified as they often are, and erected on as shifting a basis as the well-known Goodwin Sands, But, with becoming re- spect for the privity of female reflections, those of Mistress Twigg shall not be exposed to the peering gaze of curiosity, and she THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 39 shall be left in sole possession of her own secret, be it one even more than well worth knowing. The widow sighed — and a sigh of greater power seldom escaped a capacious human bosom — when her attention was arrested by the presence of a stranger, who, in silence, was apparently waiting her pleasure to be served. With a hurried gait Mistress Twigg rose from her seat, and was not a little surprised as she came forward, to see the stranger raise a hand in a stiff mechanical form to his brow, and salute her in true military style. Like the majority of her sex, the hostess of the Harrow and Pitchfork admired the gallant defenders of her country with a fervour amounting to devotion, and, although the person before her could not be described as a dashing young sergeant, 40 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. neither was he arrayed in winning regi- mental scarlet; yet Mistress Twigg, by intuitive perception, knew that the straight, thin, wiry-figured individual standing be- fore her, as upright as a ramrod, was a soldier — ay, every inch a soldier, from head to heel. " What may you please to have, Sir ?" inquired Mistress Twigg, with her softest accent and sunniest smile. " Thank you, Marm," replied the stranger in a deep bass voice, and dropping his words singly from his lips like a charge of small shot, '^ a pint o' the real old scratch- me down wouldn't be amiss after a hot day's march." The crimson ribbons fluttered and shook in Mistress Twigg's jaunty cap as, with an inward explosion of mirth, she admitted that " the real old scratch-me-down " was the THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 41 title of a liquid with which she was not familiar. " Well, Marm," rejoined the veteran — for he was old, and his bronzed features bore evidence of the effects of distant climes, and a wide white seam, passing transversely from the right side of his cheek to his chin, left an impression that the hand that carved it might have met with as fair a requital — "well, Marm," repeated he, '^ p'raps you may know the liquor as the double, rasping, choke-your-vitals stifler." Again the hostess of the Harrow and Pitchfork was at fault, and she made the confession, accompanied by sundry coquet- tish nods of the head, which shook the crimson ribbons, and set them quivering like aspen leaves in the summer wind. "Humph!" ejaculated the stranger, as- suming an expression of astonishment. 42 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " Never heard of the double, rasping, choke- your- vitals stifler, eh ? " Mistress Twigg had again to admit her total want of information on the subject, and never, perhaps, looked to greater ad- vantage, at least in her riper years, as she conveyed the intelligence in a way which may be said to have been one of the most winning in her category. '' Very good, Marm," continued he, in a sententious tone, " then p'raps you may identify its reverse when I call your inno- cent notice to the misfortune of having taken a pull at a pot of out-an'-out, no-mis- take, set-you-going, double-me-up, pinch- me-tenders, which almost drew the eyes out o' my head at the canteen, not two miles off." ''• The Spit and Chicken !" said Mistress Twigg, with a sudden acidity curdling her voice and manner. ^' I quite expect," and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 43 the widow closed her eyes with resignation as, from the best tap of her best brewing, she proceeded to fill a bright and shining tankard, '' I quite expect," repeated she, '' to hear a case of poisoning or two in that quarter before long. In good truth, I'm only surprised that it's not taken place before this, Sir; for they say — I mean everybody says — that the way in which the Spit and Chicken doctor their beer, makes it more fit for a horse's drench than a Christian's stomach." "And what everybody says to be true," re- turned the veteran, taking the tankard from the widow's hand, and passing it slowly to his lips; "it's no use declaring it to be a lie, Marm. I found that out some years ago,'* continued he, " and acted upon it accord- ingly. I'm an old soldier, Marm," and as he spoke, he winked a clear, penetrating grey eye, which looked to possess the powers 44 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. of a gimblet, as it glanced from a shaggy fringe of hair overhanging the lid. " So I suspected, Sir, from the first," added the widow, watching with infinite satis- faction the relaxing of the stranger's fea- tures from the unquestionable glow of plea- sure which the draught instilled through the intricacies of his system. " There's no mistaking a military man," continued Mistress Twigg. ^' If one wants to refresh one's eyesight with what's polite, genteel, and I may say noble, one must see a military man, Sir." " Adzooks ! " exclaimed the old soldier — and if his physiognomy gave any trace to the impressions operating within, an " old soldier" in more senses than one — ''Adzooks !" repeated he, again saluting Mistress Twigg professionally, " but you talk, Marm, more like the lass who warbled, ' If I had a beau for a soldier I'd go.' " THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 45 ^'There's no saying, Sir, what I might have done in other days," rejoined the widow; " fortunately for me, perhaps, temp- tation was not put in my way. In my young, or," continued she, correcting the phrase with a sound not unlike a slight hic- cough, " I should say younger days, I had no opportunity of coming in contact with the military ; and when the pleasure was granted to me by the force of circumstances, my name — " the end of her nose twitched, as if the reminiscence was far from an agreeable one — " was Twigg." " Ha! " ejaculated the veteran, " many of your sex, Marm, change their names a shave or two too quick. Shouldn't wonder now," said he, lifting a hat, by no means improved by wear and exposure to the elements, and exhibiting a head as white as a cauli- flower, ''had we but met a quarter of a century since, or ra-tlier more, it might 46 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. have been Crump, Marm, Missis Corporal Crump." The relict of the departed Twigg could scarcely do otherwise than feel flattered at the suggested likelihood, and with the crimson bows in a perfect ague fit, simpered and laughed, and said, " Corporal Crump was an impertinent man, that he was, to talk any such nonsense; but it was so like the military. For her part, she wondered how the military could be so astonishingly impudent, but supposed a good deal lay in the drill." "What's not natural, Marm," returned the old soldier, '^ comes, no doubt, by the corruption of evil communications. We often learn a trick or two by seeing the sleight-of-hand of our comrades." " Very true," added Mistress Twigg, as if impressed with the sageness of the veteran's remark, "very true indeed; " and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 47 then throwing open the swinging door which formed a portion of the horse-shoe counter, and barrier between her and the Corporal, she invited him to a seat in the bar-parlour, and even begged him to be seated in her easiest of easy chairs. With a manner remarkable for its total absence of restraint, hesitation, or shyness. Corporal Crump took possession of the deep, high-backed chair, as if it had been his un- disputed birthright, and throwing himself back on its caressing cushions, stretched out his legs as a man may occasionally do when quite at home and considerably at his ease. With a glance — and it required but one from those eyes — the old soldier surveyed the new and unexpected quarters in which he evidently found himself so much at home, and sweeping the whole contents of the apartment, measuring barely six feet by eight, into a mental inventory, seemed to 48 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. arrive at a satisfactory conclusion, upon •coniing to the teaspoons. The glasses standing in rows upon the shelves, looked bright as crystal, and the gigantic china punch-bowl on the table in the corner, had an appearance of solidity ; there was an air, too, of freshness in the lemons, which hung in nets from the polished oak beam crossing the ceiling; but for Corporal Crump vision, these were as nothing to the tea- spoons. '' Amazingly comfortable, Marm," ob- served the veteran. " Head quarters for a General." *' You're good enough to say so, Sir,'^ replied Mistress Twigg, occupying a seat opposite her guest. ^' The military are always so polite." *'I can make but a short halt in 'em, though," rejoined he ; "for I must find a lady before sun-set, who started for this neigh- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 49 bourhood yesterday morning, and whose servant I feel proud in saying I now am; but where she is, or why I did not get the promised orders by post, remain at this moment among the roll of things to be mustered." " A lady ! " repeated the hostess of the Harrow and Pitchfork, raising her eyebrows. "Ay, Marm," resumed Corporal Crump, " Missis Somerset, widow of Lieutenant Somerset, of the King's Own Royals." " Has she a child with her? " inquired the widow. "An angel, Marm, in the shape of one," replied the veteran. "Why, Heaven preserve us! " exclaimed Mistress Twigg, bringing the palms of her hands together with a loud crack, " Lor'-o'- mussee, goodness gracious, deary me! If your lady. Missis Somerset, widow of Lieu- tenant Somerset, of the King's Own Royals, VOL I. E 50 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. isn't at this very time at Jacob Giles's, the general shopkeeper, a little lower down on the right-hand side, past the direction post, not far from the church, up one flight of stairs, very ill." *' Very ill ! " shouted the corporal, jump- ing from his reclining posture with far greater agility than his limbs appeared capable of performing. " Did you say very ill?" *' And am sorry that such should be the truth," rejoined the widow; but before she had completed the sentence. Corporal Crump had vanished with a suddenness which was seldom witnessed in the departure of a guest from the bar-parlour. 51 CHAPTER IV. There is no more common style of archi- tecture than that adopted by the builders of castles in the air. The projectors of these erections meet with so few obstacles of an engineering kind, that they are run up with a haste which may account for the materials frequently tumbling about their heads. Hope blows the bubbles with which they are cemented, and the dreamer beholds the fairy pile rise with magic speed and skill; and while his enraptured gaze is fixed upon the work of his own creation, he sees it dissolve E 2 52 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. and vanish, like the mist of morning in the summer's sun. And yet who would say, "Build not thus?" " Of the earth, earthy," man toils from youth to age, from man- hood's strength to life's decrepid wane, and leaves his unfinished task to crum- ble into dust. Of what to him is now the wealth for which he worked? Of what the prize for which he struggled ? Of what the honours for which he craved? Look, within a narrow strip of ground he lies, turning into that earth from which he sprung. With the noblest and the most obscure, the worm deals alike. Be it, there- fore, but fancy's idle vision, or the more solid fabric reared by labouring hands, the end is the same in all pertaining to mortal deeds. The waves of time roll on; ages come and pass, and the small remnant of their works is at length blotted out, and nothing lasts to tell either of those THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 53 who built their castles in the air, or raised them on the rock. Few of the forked genus dealt less in high- flown flights of the ideal than Squire Wood- bee. He, as was his custom to avow upon all fitting opportunities, and occasionally when the opportunities were sadly out of time, tune, and order, gave it as his opinion that there was nothing like matter of fact. A plain fact was the naked truth, and that was all he required to see, hear, read, or speak of. He wished his friends, neigh- bours, dependents, and in-dependents to regard him as a plain fact ; and if in a bad humour, there was little difficulty in so doing; for Squire Woodbee out of temper was an exceedingly ugly fact. With him, as with his forefathers and fathers co tem- porary, both trifles light as air, and matters onerous as lead, tended to disturb, agitate, excite, ruffle, and stand on end the fretful 54 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. hackles of his spleen. He was of short stature, and shone brightly at the two ex- tremities; for his respectable bald head brought forcibly to mind bees- waxed maho- gany, and his shoes were resplendent as the mirror of blacking in which Warren's cos- mopolite cat raised her feline tail and quarters. He might have been slight and slim once upon a time ; but Squire Woodbee, at the fortunate moment of calling the at- tention of the reading public to his sayings and doings, had run a full stage towards the terminus of the journey of life, and was now in that condition known by the familiar titles of stout, full-habited, corpulent, and podgy. A waistcoat, long, wide, and deep, and — weather permitting — white as the heart it covered, gave an air of extreme re- spectability ; and a black ribbon passed across it, to which was attached a small reading-glass, rather added to the respectable THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 55 effect. It could not be reasonably supposed that he was vain of his legs, for they were as devoid of the usual development, so con- spicuous in those of the lacqueys of England's aristocracy, as a couple of flutes ; and yet Squire Woodbee exhibited their want of pro- portions in a pair of black silk stockings and " knees," which gave a want- of- balance, top-heavy appearance to the superstructure. If, however, the Squire was particular, precise, and — there is but one term ap- plicable — '^respectable" in these divisions of his attire, he was still more so in the cravat encircling his closely- shaven chin. In a witness box it could scarcely have failed to produce a most favourable im- pression on the collective wisdom of the Bench, the Bar, and the jury ; and the wearer would at once have been regarded as one whose testimony was unimpeachable. Should the highest recognised authority 56 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. on noses be worthy of the credit with which it is generally received, then Squire Wood- bee's was not the pattern to be envied ; for it was bridgeless, and turned up like one of those happily approaching extinct animals, a canine pug's. His mouth, too, was far from being of the handsomest mould, as it had the appearance of an elongated but- ton-hole, and his large, protruding eyes never looked at the same object in union. There was always a doubt in the mind of the observer when one of these organs was fixed on an object, what its fellow was peering at ; for if ever a man literally looked two waj^s at once, that man was Squire Woodbee. That he might not lack the crowning point and finishing touch of re- spectability, the scanty moulding of hair sur- rounding the glossy and smooth surface, was slightly powdered, like blades of grass tipped with the hoar frost ; and it may be boldly THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 57 alleged, without fear of contradiction, that better " getting up " could not be adopted for the character represented, and so ably supported by the head of the family of the Woodbees. He had been a successful candidate for the favours of the proverbially tickle goddess, had Squire Woodbee; and in secret com- munion with himself, he traced much of the success attending his dainty steps on the ladder of life to the favourable impression which he left, like his shadow in the sun, of his undoubted respectability. With numbers, however, who look from a lofty pinnacle with dignified aspects upon their humbler and less fortunate neighbours. Squire Wood- bee might have found, as the fly in amber, a slight difficulty in accounting for his position. From the obscurity of a grocer^s apprentice, he advanced by degrees to be the sole representative of the old-established 58 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. and original shop in Farringdon Within, and the firm of " Shave, Paring, & Co." became a tradition of little interest in that locality. From the astute lessons learned with pointed readiness within the confines of the counter, Tobias Woodbee conceived the grand idea of adding greatly to the legitimate profits of trade by the illegitimate process of adul- teration, and justifying the means by the end, quieted a few nauseous qualms of conscience by persuading himself into the belief that chicory was a wholesome mixture with coffee, and a birchbroom chopped fine, with an equal proportion of dried sloe leaves, could do no harm in the fragrant decoction of the beverage which " refreshes, but never inebriates." Fuller's earth, too, might have been discovered in his coarser kinds of " sugar," and many an imagination has been taxed to discover the causes for the effect in Tobias Woodbee's diversified THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 59 articles of commerce. And yet his weights and measures were true as the magnet; he paid his rent, rates, and taxes, drove a gig, and was called respectable. But the higher ambition climbs, the higher still it contem- plates to soar, and at length Tobias coveted for the attributes of wealth, and with pleasing visions of Whittington and his cat, and other civic tales for thrifty and in- dustrious youth, he longed for place and power. Neither had he to desire long in vain. When his gains were known by their reputed amount — for the world is not illiberal concerning the ways of men's means — and Tobias Woodbee fed with prodigal hand the widely diffused and in- creasing circle of his friends from viands, rich, rare, and dear; he seemed to possess a magic spell, and virtues were at once dis- covered in him, and capacities confessed which, if in existence, at least, had remained 60 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. dormant from the hour of his birth. If not born to honours, honours were now thrust upon him. It seemed, indeed, as if a struggle was continually going on, and each admirer strained his best energies to be in advance in the race of his fellow, and lay at the feet of Tobias Woodbee the humble tribute of his praise. Public assemblies toasted him as " the liberal patron of their noble insti- tutions." On the' hustings, his name was shrieked as " the friend of the poor and of civil and religious liberty." Testimonials were presented to him by smiling depu- tations, and mounting on the wings of favour, he at length sat robed and chained in the majesty of justice to expound the laws to evil-doers, and shake his respectable head with virtuous indignation at the revealed dark tales of crime, want, and misery. The soundness of the cause, however, is generally estimated by its success; and as THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 61 Tobias Woodbee had risen to so proud a pinnacle, envy itself was silenced. There he stood — as he often said — " a fair example of what might be done by industry and thrift." But having won and worn these distinc- tions, Tobias, with feelings corresponding to those which caused Alexander's tears to flow, looked around for other conquests. He was still a tradesman, although a capitalist. Bah! he would cut the shop, and, like the butterfly emerging from the state of grub, become a gentleman. With the promptness of thought, Tobias threw a hasty glance at the poetical eff*usions of the late lamented George Robins, and meeting with an earthly paradise in the voluminous list of eligible investments presented to public notice by that departed prince of auctioneers, he in due course became the proprietor of the Elysium, and took pos- 62 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. session of the fine old mansion, with many a broad acre thereunto belonging, in the neighbourhood of Grundy's Green, called the Oaks. So much for Tobias Woodbee's past history ; now for the present. 63 CHAPTER V, It was one of those mornings illustrative of life's chequered light and shade. The sun broke fitfully through the thick foliage of the trees, and flashed the dew-tipped grass in myriads of fairy lamps; and then, when at the brightest, a murky cloud, floating on the breeze, veiled the scene, and all was darkness, heaviness, and gloom. The Oaks, like the gnarled trunks and widely-spreading branches of the trees rearing themselves around, and all pertain- ing to the old house, dated from a long 64 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. by-gone age. There was tlie fulness of time in the ivy twining luxuriantly around the stone casements, and even to the crooked chimneys, wherein many a jackdaw built a nest. There was the fulness of time in the grey-mossed gable ends jutting out, with the cramped-paned lattices which, to look through with anything like preci- sion, required the closing of one eye. There was the fulness of time in the huge beams, black and worm-eaten, interlacing the walls, and running across each other at right angles, like the intricate meshes of a spider's web. Long narrow galleries ran from end to end, and steep staircases led nobody seemed to know where. For room succeeded room, and there were vaulted chambers, and dark passages, and capacious closets, perplexing to the imagination, to discover the design and uses for which they were intended. A stately mansion, how- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 65 ever, was the Oaks, and a family, upon whose escutcheon was neither bar nor blot, had long dwelt beneath its roof. Genera- tions came and passed with the mechanical order of the pendulum, and monuments of their virtues were raised and duly in- scribed on the tablets above the tomb where the last of the race laid crumbhng. At length came the prodigal — the waster, and with him the Oaks parted a long asso- ciation as the home of his fathers. Tobias Woodbee was now the Squire of the Oaks, and a prouder never yet claimed to be its master. All was his own, and he entertained the liveliest and most compre- hensive view of doing with his own exactly as he pleased. He swept from the ground whole avenues of trees as intercepting to his view; levelled the rookery to the last stump by way of effectually ejecting the noisy colony, and so astonished the bats by VOL. I. F 66 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. painting, plastering, and white- washing, that not a single member of the commu- nity but made a hasty and final retreat from the scene of modern improve- ments. Before an open casement, commanding a view of the extensive, undulating park, Squire Woodbee sat opposite a table, on which were, what in domestic phraseology are termed" the breakfast things," separating him, as by a barrier, from his young and gentle wife, a lady regarded by the country- side in a far more favourable light than her rightful lord and master. It would be anticipating a portion of the sequel to divulge, at this early stage^the why and wherefore of Squire Woodbee's marriage giving almost the flat denial to the allega- tion that unions are made in heaven, as a preliminary to their solemnization on earth. Sufficient for the present purpose, THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 67 in the gradual unfolding of a simple tale, to assert that their hands were joined, though not their hearts, and yet one would have broken rather than repined. " My dear," said the Squire, with a strong clearing of his voice, and a " hah ! " which seemed to be jerked from about the centre of his white waistcoat, " it appears to me," and he slowly placed his dexter hand among the folds of his shirt, and not far from the spot where his heart might be supposed to beat; "I say it appears to me that we must be thinking of something more than marbles, bats, balls, kites, tops, and hoops for our son Leonard." " You said," replied the lady, raising a })air of dark-blue melancholy-looking eyes, and speaking in one of those voices which claim the attention from the sweet and f2 68 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. plaintive tone, " that he was to have a pony for his next birthday present." " Pish ! " ejaculated her spouse, irritably. *' You are ever thinking of some indulgence or other. I mean," continued he, " that we must now begin to prepare him for the world. Books, Madam, books must take the place of toys, and the fooleries of infancy be thrown aside." " Miss Baxter speaks most favourably of his progress," pleaded the mother; *' and with very little assistance he read three whole pages of Jack the Giant Killer to me yesterday morning." "Miss Baxter! " sneered the Squire in an under tone. '' And she expressed a hope," resumed his wife, who believed, in her innocence, that she was rendering the cause essential service, " to find him take an equal in- terest in Jack and the Bean Stalk, which is THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. G9 chosen as the succeeding work of light literature for his perusal." For a few seconds it appeared doubtful whether Squire Woodbee could keep within the confines of good breeding that sudden boiling up of spleen which this Baxterian programme for his son's improvement engendered; but placing a strong check upon the impulse to give vent to his indig- nation, he assumed a calmness of de- meanour, and sternly rejoined, "Miss Baxter, as Leonard's governess — indeed, companion — will not enter these doors again." The mother started, and her pale and delicate features became flushed, as if with alarm at these words. " It is time," continued her husband, and he spoke with the air of a man whose mind required nothing to complete the resolve, *' that Leonard should begin his studies in 70 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. earnest, and I intend that no one and nothing shall stand in the way of his ad- vancement. Hitherto you, Alice, have had the control, and for a child — a mere child — perhaps there has been little to con- demn in the general rules laid down for his health and recreation. He is certainly a thriving, handsome, affectionate, and good little knight." '' But not strong," interrupted the mother, with the deepest solicitude in her tone and manner. " I beseech you think of that. He is well and happy now ; but believe me of so sensitive and fragile a nature that with harshness, it will shrink and wither as readily as a blighted flower." Squire Woodbee waved a hand as if he desired to be heard rather than spoken to. " My son, Madam," continued he, " if too tender for his duties must be hardened to them. I have made my way through the THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 71 world with rough weapons, the spade and pickaxe of industry and thrift, and it re- mains for him to complete the work with more polished tools. I lack, and with all my wealth cannot buy, that knowledge which early education cultivates and quali- fies the man to become great among great men. With my opportunities I could do no more. The power which money gives, I possess. The honours and influence which it buys, I command; but there is something more within the compass of my ambition to be reached through my boy. I would have Azm" — and the Squire appeared to swell with the sublimity of the thought — " grasp the highest academical prizes, shine in the senate, and be one of the rulers of the state. This, Madam, is the pride of a father's heart; the light which shines for the future portion of my life. Few are content with that success which far exceeds 72 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. their most sanguine hopes, and I confess that I am not one of them. Had I been told, at the commencement of my career, that I should ever attain the distinction" — the white waistcoat became like the breast of a pouter pigeon — " that I should ever attain the distinction," repeated he, " which is accorded to me by the world at large^ I might have doubted the possibility, I might have said, with that I shall be satisfied. '' But a thing won is done. Fools look back, / look forward, and like a man who deserves to be called wise, because he knows himself, I know my own incapacity to stretch beyond my present tether. In my son, however, I shall yet reach a wider circle of ambition. He will be rich through me, wise through me, and — " ** Happy, let us pray," interrupted the mother, ^' through God." THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 73 " Oh, certainly," added the Squire. " By all means. Amen." With the bound of healthful, joyous spirits, a boy now burst into the room with a large black spaniel jumping at a ball, which he held at arm's length above his head. He was a beautiful fair-haired child, with silver ringlets divided upon his brow, and hanging in clusters down his shoulders. With a smooth and lofty brow, which, at a glance pourtrayed an imaginative and sensitive disposition, his features possessed a striking resemblance to those of his mother, and were chiselled in the same delicate and feminine mould. The tint of the peach was on his cheeks, and beneath the fine web-like lashes a pair of laughing eyes glistened as if tears had been long and far between strangers to them. From his figure he could scarcely have seen less than eight summers ; but the almost infantine 74 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. expression of his face might have led the observer to conjecture that he was some two or three years younger. " Down, Blackthorn, down/' he cried, as the dog struggled to reach the ball. ^' Oh, Mamma, make him be quiet 1 " continued he, throwing himself upon his mother's lap, " I've lost my breath with playing, and he's so rough." To the gentle chiding of his mistress the dog at once abandoned his design upon the ball, and, from a somewhat boisterous scene tranquillity was restored. " We've had such a scamper through the park," said the child, turning his face to his mother, and twining an arm fondly around her neck. '* We ran to the witch elms, and then round the lake, home," continued he, exultingly. " Leonard," returned his father, holding out a hand, " I wish to speak to you ! " THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGEc 75 With ill-concealed reluctance the boy quitted his mother's side, and slowly ap- proached the chair of authority like one about to receive a dreaded judgment. " The past with you, my dear boy," commenced the Squire, placing a broad, inflammatory-looking hand upon the silken curls of his son — " the past with you, my dear boy," repeated he, with a mingled air of grandeur and patronage, " has been a butterfly's holiday. You have done, and been required to do, little more than to run to the witch elms and then round the lake home, to apply your own words in a figurative sense. But the time has come — and I was just speaking of it — when you must occupy your attention with matters of a far graver nature. Strict rules will be laid down for a proper division of the day, and play can only form but a small pro- portion of it. A gentleman with whom I 76 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. have corresponded of late," continued Squire Woodbee, throwing back a lapel of his coat as the white waistcoat distended, " will arrive in the course of the week, in the capacity of your tutor." Mrs. Woodbee started at these words, but said nothing. " And," resumed he, " no one but myself will be allowed to interfere with his arrange- ments in connection with his pupil. Work must now be begun with earnestness of purpose, and I hope to see it carried on with my son's best efforts to profit by the instruction which he will receive. A willingness in this respect cannot fail to prevent much unpleasantness, if not pain, to many; for, if persuasion should prove unsuccessful in securing proper attention to study, I shall not hesitate to permit coercive measures. Upon this subject, however, I shall say little more. In a day THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 77 or two Doctor Starkie" — Squire Woodbee smiled as if a good thing was about to be dropped from his pursed lips — " will take the place of Miss Baxter, and I've little doubt that an Oxford double-first prizeman will soon rouse your mental energies, Leonard, to find greater charms than those as yet discovered in Jack the Giant Killer, or in his brother of the bean-stalk." During this delivery the boy stood listening with the deepest attention. A finger was pressed thoughtfully upon a lip, and he kept his unblinking eyes riveted on those of his father with an expression of painful interest. For a few seconds after the Squire had concluded addressing him, he continued in the same attitude, and it was not until his mother called him gently by his name, that he appeared to be roused from a kind of reverie. " Will the gentleman tell me stories like 78 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE, Miss Baxter?" at length inquired he, ^' and play with me and Blackthorn as she does?" " An Oxford double-first prizeman/* rejoined his father, in a humor still of the waggish kind, " can scarcely be expected, Leonard, to be so fruitful of old Mother Hubbard, the popular tenant of a well- known cupboard, and other lays of a similar kind, as our respected friend Miss Baxter. But," continued he, " I dare say he will amuse you with the romances of Ovid and ^sop in their original tongue. And as for Blackthorn, perhaps, we shall find him, ere long, with spectacles on nose, solving the mysteries of Euclid." " What rooms do you intend Dr. Starkie to occupy?" asked Mrs. Woodbee. " Those at the north end of the picture gallery," responded her husband, " and of which some idle tales are told." *' They are very gloomy," observed she. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 79 '' Which may account for the gossip," added the Squire. " But there the two will be apart to themselves, undisturbed, secluded, and alone. The seeds of know- ledge spring strongly in such quiet nooks, and the mind, absorbed in its subject, expands better in the dark closet than the lighted hall." Upon this Squire Woodbee rose from his seat, and elevating his chin above the creaseless folds of his cravat, quitted the room with a bright vision of his son's future glory, the germs of which he had himself sown, and would see blossom. 80 CHAPTER VI. Corporal Crump was never at a loss for the ways and means of making himself as comfortable, and as much at ease, as the nature of circumstances would permit. He felt it as part of his duty, to be observed with the strictest military precision, to extract from the present all the enjoyment with which it was laden ; and if a few drops of acid mingled with the nectar, the old soldier did his best to sweeten the cup with good humour and the spirit of contentment. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 81 "It's no use grumbling," was his fre- quently-repeated assertion. '' Obey orders, do your duty, and whether you're shot, sabred, or die of age or fever, it's all one in the end. Nothing like peace of mind in this particular. My rule for living is : — lamb's- wool stockings, head cool, tender mutton, good liquor, with the thoughts slightly turned towards heaven. It doesn't do. Sirs," and then the corporal would shake his head, as if impressed with the solemnity of the subject, "for us to be too anxious about another and a better world. It looks, d'ye see, as if we were dissatisfied with this ; and it's my belief, when that's the case, the fault lies, by a long shot, more with ourselves than any other quarter." Among the corporal's striking charac- teristics, was a remarkable capacity he pos- sessed of making himself " at home " wher- ever fate, inclination, or duty might bend VOL. I. G 82 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Ids footsteps. The moment the old soldier entered a house, he was " at home " in the most comprehensive sense of the term, and appeared to have been in possession for a much longer period than its oldest inhabitant. He seemed to know the softest and easiest of chairs without a trial, took the coziest corner by the hearth, and had a happy knack of securing those comforts to himself which chance or design dropped in his path. It may be averred with confidence that Corporal Crump never looked more " at home " than as he sat one evening, tete a tete with the little tender-hearted general shop- keeper, in a small, dark back settlement, called the shop parlour. A dreary and con- fined apartment was the shop parlour; and yet, as the old soldier reclined in a deep- seated elbow chair, with a pipe between his lips, and a glass of reeking brandy and water of the shade of Spanish mahogany by his THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 83 side, the influence of the locality appeared to be entirely lost upon him. A solitary candle, with a long flaring wick, from which a dull leaden light proceeded, stood on a small round table between them, and on the opposite side Jacob Giles silently sat, resting his head upon a hand, while an elbow sup- ported both. The shop was closed, and a harsh-toned timepiece in the corner tick-tacked the units of time by which ages have been numbered in the past ; and as the pendulum swayed to and fro, the corporal puffed forth slight volumes of smoke in exact measure with the sound. The coincidence was trifling; but it withdrew Jacob's attention from other thoughts, and roused him from a truly unsocial humour. " You'll say I'm bad company to-night, Corporal," observed he,with an effort to shake off the evident gloom which oppressed him. G 2 84 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. The old soldier took his pipe slowl)^ from his lips, knocked the bowl upon the hearth to empty it of its ashes, and, after refreshing his inward man with a long and strong pull at the glass, replied, " Better company than good liquor and tobacco is seldom wanted by me, comrade. I don't care to talk much in such society, and never did." " You're a man of the world. Corporal,'' rejoined Jacob, in a nervous, hesitating tone, as if about to introduce something of which he was afraid, " one who has seen a good many ins and outs, ups and downs, cranks, twists and turns, and can see a long way, if I may so express myself, without the aid of spectacles." Corporal Crump drew his military figure stiffly up, and throwing out a chest, across which a black coat, rusty, threadbare, and worn was closely buttoned, placed his arms akimbo, and offered to " back his powers of THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 85 seeing further into the ensuing week or century than the widest-awake old cam- paigner that ever shouldered a musket." "Some folks," continued he, "are like pig lead ; you may grind for ever, but there's no getting an edge to their wits. Raw as young recruits, they begin the world without knowing the difference between the butt-end and the muzzle ; and drill 'em as you may, it's both time and labour lost. It wasn't so with my family, comrade," continued he, giving a significant double knock on his os frontis, " The Crumps, Sir, come of a different stock." Jacob entirely accorded in this opinion, and expressed it in terms both general and particular. " What I was about saying, however," resumed the little general shopkeeper, still exhibiting a trepidation of manner, "that one who's so naturally sharp " — Jacob 86 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Giles, in spite of his provincial inexperience, knew the force of well-timed flattery, and repeated, "so naturally sharp as you are, Corporal, can scarcely be ignorant of the whole true and particular history of the lady — God bless her I — who is now upstairs in my snuggery — I trust to Heaven— asleep and comfortable.'^ Corporal Crump, as was his wont when any reference was made to his mistress, placed a hand to his brow, and respectfully saluted, as became a soldier, the object of his strange but devoted care and attention. " To come to this point, ^' said Jacob, with an unctuous gloss upon his countenance, and a voice open to improvement in its husky tone, " has cost me a world of screwing, Corporal; but my mind is of an inquiring turn, and 1 couldn't bear the pressure any longer. At the same time, if I'm wrong,'* continued he, with a gasp, " in seeking to THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 87 learn the whole true and particular history of my lady visitor — God bless her ! — punish me, and don't say a word." After a pause, which brought the unctu- ous, clammy moisture more palpably upon Jacob's brow, Corporal Crump cleared his bass voice, and rendering it more like a tenor, thus returned : " We've been quartered here, I think, if my reckoning's good, just ten clear days, and you know no more about us than the man in the moon. Now if you'd been in my shoes, and I'd been in yours, we shouldn't have had a tale to tell, Sir, con cerning ourselves, fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts, or cousins, to the twentieth gene- ration, in less than as many hours. But then," and the old soldier looked out of the extreme corners of his keen grey eyes, " I was not born yesterday, comrade, and the Crumps are the original blades 88 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. spoken of in history, as sharp, keen-set razors." Jacob kept his eyes stedfastly fixed upon those of his companion; but thought it wiser to say nothing by way of interruption. " So far from thinking it against the articles of war," continued the corporal, " or the rules of common sense, for you to seek to learn who we are through whom you're considerably adding to your future store of comforts in the next world by sup- plying ours in this, I consider it nothing but a right, plain, straightforward march, comrade." The little general shopkeeper felt con- siderably relieved at these words, and the varnish upon his face became much less lustrous. ''I didn't volunteer the information before," said the corporal, settling himself in his chair as if he had taken upon himself THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 89 a task which would occupy some time to accomplish, "for this particular reason — I wished to learn, beyond any misgivings, whether your bosom was a worthy re- pository for the truth. It would have been easy enough for me to tell a lie. You can hardly believe, comrade, how particularly easy it is for me to shell out a tantariddle ; and had you tried to get a peep into my sealed despatches too soon, it might ha' been that you would have met with a touch of what a Crump can do in the shape of a fable. As it is," contiimed he, with more of the air of the host than the guest, " I feel disposed to conclude that your bosom is a worthy repository for the truth, and conse- quently rU tell ye the facts of the case, plain and unadulterated." Jacob was now wound up to a pitch of curiosity, and he leant forward, with his ears pricked, to catch each syllable as it fell. 90 CHAPTER VIL " Pm not going," said Corporal Crump, '^ to give ye the particulars of my own life, only in so far as they may be considered part and parcel of the history of my betters, although, if I just break ground by saying that, in the words of the old song — * 'Twas in the merry month of May, Wlien bees from flower to flower do hum; Soldiers marching, passing gay, The village all flew to the sound of the drum ; ' and that I was one of them, it will be but beginning the story at the right end. The THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 91 fife and the drum, comrade, cockade and streamers, were too tempting for a farmer's boy on the sunny side of twenty, and, half afraid at my own act and deed, I took the shilling, and became one of my country's noble defenders, and full private on full pay. At the time of my enlisting, the whole of the Continent was bristling with bayonets, and the French were spreading more mischief throughout the countries they had overrun, than the devil himself in a gale of wind. " As soon as I could be drilled into some- thing like a soldier, and before I knew the difference between a sergeant's stripe and a corporal's, I was marched off for Spain, where I soon learned what was parade, and the gold and gammon of the profession, and the real downright hard knocks of active service." " Rumours, which kept our officers 92 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. always on the alert, marcliing, counter- marching, fatigue, heat, thirst, short rations, and bad food, were now the order of the day, and my feelings were particu- larly similar to those of a young lady of my acquaintance, who fell in love with a scarlet coat at a fair, and found the colour a deal faded when her eyes became more familiar to it in the barrack yard. " The particular event, however, with which I have now to deal, took place in Brussels just previous to the battle of Waterloo; a battle, comrade," continued the old soldier, pointing to the white seam running like the line of a map across his countenance, *^ wherein I got this brand. It was cut with something heavier than a pen-knife, and there was will and power in the elbow." Jacob Giles stooped forward, and exa- mined the mark with apparently greater THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 93 interest than he had yet felt when his eyes rested upon the blemish. " I must now tell you that attached to our corps was a young officer of the name of " Corporal Crump lowered his voice into a whisper, and glancing cautiously round the dingy apartment, as if afraid of some eavesdropper being concealed in the murky light, added, " Somerset. I never knew how it was, but although he wore epaulettes, and I, as yet, had not my stripes, there was a good will, and, if I may so call it, kind of understanding be- tween us, which may be formed between one in the ranks, and those above him, without either being forgetful of his duty, line, or position. " Like the greater number of lieutenants attached to marching regiments, and poor chaplains without hope of promotion. Lieu- tenant Somerset was married. They all 94 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. do. It's consti^(?^-tional, I suppose/' said the old soldier, with emphasis ; *' but the poorer a man is, the younger he marries, and the more children he gets. Somehow, too, his wife is sure to be a delicate creetur, with calico hands, pretty face, and one of eight or ten. Pve seen it so, over and over twenty times told, in my life, and shall again, if ever I look for anything so common." Perhaps it was a defect of the system, that a natural tendency to drought should prevent his continuing his narrative with- out moistening it at certain intervals, but Corporal Crump again diminished the con- tents of his glass ere he made further pro- gress. " The mate's gone," said he, shaking his head sorrowfully, " but a neater pair was never seen than the lieutenant and his wife. They used to be called the handsomest THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 95 couple in all the garrison; and, poor things! I'm sure they were the fondest. Save on duty, he was always with her, and even jealous of the moments which kept them separate. Young, poor, and, as I sus- pected, friendless, they kept together away from all, and seemed to have a little world within themselves, and none besides. " Having been in garrison during the winter and spring, and occupying the pri- vate post of the lieutenant's own servant, there was plenty of time and opportunity to note down trifles which otherwise might have escaped my attention. Now, it occurred to me, one morning, upon seeing the lieutenant's wife stitching away at as small a piece of dimity as was ever cut in the shape of a night-cap, that it couldn't be for herself, and as her husband couldn't have got his fist into it, I concluded that the design wasn't for him. And yet what 96 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. wondeiful pleasure both seemed to take in that little bit of dimity ! I think I see 'em now," said the corporal, casting his eyes upwards, " at this very moment, sitting close together, like a couple of love birds. Her needle and thread are plying away at the little bit of dimity, and he's got an arm round her taper waist, now and then whispering something which makes her face mantle like a rose. Hah ! " sighed the old soldier, " our happiest moments are often set on hair triggers ! " Jacob's bosom heaved a responsive sigh, but he ventured nothing further to inter- rupt the tale. '* As it is well known," resumed the narrator, '* the Duke and our principal officers were shaking their heels at a ball when Blucher's despatch arrived, notifying that the French had crossed the Sambre, and were marching towards Charleroi and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 97 Fleurus. By dad, Sir, but it put a halt to dancing! The tune was changed for another sort in about the quickest move- ment that was ever made by fiddlers. Drums beat, bugles sounded, and in a few ticks of the clock, the streets were lined with troops, pouring forth from houses, hay-lofts, cellars, stables, and every nook and corner forming the good and bad, rough-and-ready quarters of our men. " Our corps were among the first to muster, and before the word was given to march, every man belonging to it was pre- sent, save — one.'" Corporal Crump rested here, and raising a fore-finger, as if to call his auditor's especial attention, slowly repeated the words — " every man belonging to it was present, save — one.'" " The distance between Brussels and Qiiartre Bras is over twenty miles, and 98 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. before eight o'clock the cavalry, artillery, infantry, and waggon train, were on the march. By two in the afternoon, the fifth division, of which we formed a part, com- manded by Sir Thomas Picton, arrived at Quatre Bras, and as we came up, and were forming into line, a body of French lancers charged, and thrust many a brave fellow's soul from earth to heaven. "The fields of rye, growing almost to our shoulders, ofi'ered considerable hin- drance to infantry movements, and the flights of the enemy's cavalry often swept down upon the columns, and cut them to pieces before they could form into square. But let a square be once formed," said Cor- poral Crump, and the old soldier's eyes glistened as he spoke, " and they might as well have charged the solid rock. " As soon as it was possible, we formed in square, but in doing which two com- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 99 panies were left out, and we had to see them butchered almost to a man, before our eyes, while each struggled like a lion to the last. " For nearly two hours we fought with fearful odds against us; but fresh troops coming up from their different canton- ments, not only enabled us to keep our position, but, at last, to drive back the enemy from the ground they had occupied during a part of the day. Fatigue pre- vented the infantry from pursuing them, and the cavalry not arriving till night-fall, the action was brought to an end just as darkness fell around us. *' If Ney, however, was beaten at Quatre Bras, our allies, the Prussians, were not so fortunate in the battle of Ligny. Inch by inch the ground was fought, and all was done that could be expected by Blucher^s brave and devoted troops; but Bulow's H 2 100 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. corps not having joined, they were out- numbered by the enemy. Men fought hand-to-hand, battalion against battalion. Within five hours the village of Ligny was six times taken and re-taken. Every wall, hedge, and fence, were fiercely at- tacked and defended ; but unable to oppose the furious assaults any longer, Blucher determined upon a retreat, in order to unite himself with his fourth corps. The move- ment was made by the Prussian centre and right falling back upon Tilly in such firm and unbroken masses, that they were allowed to form within a mile of the battle, while the Imperial Guard merely took pos- session of the heights which they had lefte " But what am I about? " said Corporal Crump, drawing a hand quickly across his brow, as if dust or cobwebs had suddenly accumulated in the vicinity. " Here we THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 101 are, in the field, instead of sticking to the nursery." '' Being in the field," returned the little general shopkeeper, warming on the sub- ject, like a steak on the gridiron, " let us keep there, warrior ! I love," continued Jacob, with a convulsive snort and wild flourish of the arms, " to hearken to battles lost and won. It fires my spirit, and makes me feel that, once upon a time, I myself could have fired a gun." " In that case," added his martial com- panion, " we'll fight on, and finish what I've scarce begun. Fill my glass, comrade," continued he, pushing the now empty vessel, with a jerk, across the table; "I can't croak with a dry thorax." 102 CHAPTER VIIL *' The retreat o' the Prussians," re-com- menced the corporal, " obliged the Duke to faU back upon Genappe, and afterwards upon Waterloo. It has been said that, when making an inspection of the Netherlands, the year before, he observed that, ' were he ever to fight a battle for the defence of Brussels, Waterloo would be the position he should choose.' Be this as it may, this was the pit in which the bloodiest battle of modern times was to be fought, and the cocks were ready trimmed and spurred. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 103 "The position which we occupied may be soon described. In the rear was a wood, through which a road ran from Brussels to Charleroi, and at a few short paces from the entrance stood the village of Waterloo, where the Duke established his head- quarters. " Our right was thrown back to a ravine near Merke Braine, and our left extended to a height above the hamlet of Ter-la-Haye. Both these villages being placed on a defile, offered strong posts against any attempts which the French might make for turning our flanks. Along the whole of our front was a gentle slope, and upon the crest of the ridge, where the Duke gave his well- known order to ' Up, Guards, and at 'em,' the first line of infantry was stationed. At the bottom of the slant, and immediately in front of our left centre, stood the farm- house of La Haye Sainte, occupied by a 104 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. detachment of Hanoverians; while the second line, placed in a kind of hollow ground, was greatly sheltered from the fire of the enemy. The cavalry, under the Marquis of Anglesea, formed a third line, extending on the left almost as far as Ter- la-Haye. In front of the right centre was the country house of a Flemish nobleman, called Hougoumont, which covered the return of that flank, and the greatest im- portance was attached to this position. On one side was a large farm-yard, and, on the other, a garden fenced by a high brick wall. Here the Guards were posted, with three hundred Nassau troops, and braver men never yet struggled to obey an order of keeping the position at any cost. During the battle repeated instructions were sent to hold it by forming the soldiers in any way which might oppose the enemy. ''- An advanced corps occupied the village THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 105 of Braine-le-Lend, while the Nivelles road was protected by the extreme right ex- tending to Merke Braine. From the im- mediate left of our line, in front of Ter~la- Haye, a road led to Ohain, and the woody passes of Saint Lambert, by which a com- munication with the Prussians was main- tained. The reserve, commanded by Lord Hill, occupied the front of the village of Merke Braine, with its right resting on Braine-le-Lend. " Such was the position of the British Army on the memorable eighteenth of June; a day, comrade, which, while an English heart beats, can never be remembered but with pride worthy of its deeds. " The French occupied a ridge opposite to our position, and the valley between waved with a tall and yellow crop of corn, nearly ready for the sickle ; but not an ear was left for the husbandman. Blood-stained and 106 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. soddened with gore, the ground looked before sunset, more like a butcher's sham- bles than a harvest field. Between the two lines a space of little more than a thousand yards intervened, and although it varied in breadth, the greatest range between us and the enemy did not exceed twelve hundred. These were close quarters, comrade, and when the work began, told with fearful effect on both sides. ** After a wet and stormy night, the morning broke, finding but few of our eyes shut, I ween, and from where we were posted we could see the immense masses of the French, both cavalry and infantry, moving in every direction. Bonaparte had ordered all his columns from the rear, for an immediate attack, and the strongest occupied the two wings, and particularly the right. " About eleven o'clock the battle began TPIE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 107 in earnest, by Jerome's division advancing upon Hougoumont. There had been some skirmishing during the morning; but I date the commencement from the attack on this post. The garrison did not number more than fifteen hundred men, against whom the enemy directed the whole second corps in successive attacks throughout the day. The light companies of the Cold- streams and third Guards were in the house and garden, and those of the first regiment in the wood to the left. " The French covered their approach by a tremendous cross fire of artillery, which was well and quickly answered by our guns, and our men firing from loopholes bored in the garden wall, did immense execution, without suffering a corresponding loss. During the fight a French officer and some men got inside the gate of the farm-yard, and Colonel Macdonald, by sheer strength, 108 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. closed it upon them, and joined hand to hand in cutting them down. Nothing could exceed the courage of the enemy, save that, perhaps, by which they were repulsed. In heaps they fell, and yet there was no hesita- tion to repeat the sallies, although they moved over hillocks of the dying and the dead. " Finding it impossible to dislodge us in this way, shells were fired upon the post, and one striking a tower, set it in flames, and quickly spreading to other parts of the building, it soon became untenable, although the Guards remained in their entrenchment, while the fire raged fiercely above their heads. Whatever may have been said or written, Hougoumont was never taken nor abandoned throughout the day. " This attack cost the French little short of ten thousand men, and, although our loss was small in comparison to theirs, two- thirds of our men fell." THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 109 Corporal Crump again came to a check in his narrative, and seemed to derive con- siderable satisfaction from the deep sip which he took from his glass, and the knowledge of possessing a silent and in- terested listener. "While this diversion was going on," continued the old soldier, with a smack of his lips which sounded not unlike the ex- plosion of a percussion cap, " a cannonade from more than two hundred pieces of artillery was being poured upon our whole line, intended to support their repeated charges of cavalry and infantry. They never let us alone ; but sometimes with the infantry, and sometimes with both together, we were constantly employed with as much work as we well could manage, and now and then, perhaps, a little more. " To receive these, we were drawn up in nearly solid squares, each being several 110 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. files deep. Enough space was given be- tween the squares to deploy into line when occasion required ; while a third square in the rear of those that were parallel, pre- sented a front to the enemy's cavalry, as often as they pushed beyond them, being thus exposed to a triple fire. In this order, with the artillery playing upon the French columns as they advanced, and the cavalry in reserve, ready to sweep forward when opportunities occurred, our men stood like solid walls. Throughout the whole of that fight the attack and defence were the same. They continued to rush upon our front, we to receive and beat them back. Again and again did we throw ourselves flat on the ground, to let the storm of shot rattle over us; then, with scarcely time to rise, formed into square to receive cavalry. Up they came, sometimes firing their pistols close to our faces, and then wheeling round, THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Ill would often go off, laughing, at a gentle trot. As soon as they were driven back, we deployed into line to await the ap- proach of infantry; and these formed the principal, if not the whole manoeuvres of the day. '*It was sorely trying to our men to await the charges of the enemy, hour after hour, each square standing on its appointed ground, and as the gaps were made in the front ranks, for others to step forward to supply their places, only to meet with the same fate. It was almost more than could be expected from any mortal troops; for it is one thing to rush for'ard cheering and shouting in a charge, and quite another to receive it in cold blood, with your comrades dropping round ye like hail. As an in- stance of what British soldiers can take, as well as give, I may mention that the twenty-seventh regiment, had four hundred 112 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. men, and every officer, except one subal- tern, knocked over in square, neither moving an inch, nor pulling a trigger. Many a chicken heart can be roused to do a bold act, but the true courage of a soldier shows itself in deeds such as these. "Three great attacks — each of them a battle in itself — had now been made, when the advanced columns of the Prussians, emerging from the wood of Frischermont, must have proved anything but a refresh- ing sight to Bonaparte. In the hope, however, of turning the fortunes of the day before these could come up, fresh bodies of infantry and cavalry were advanced, under cover of a heavy cannonade, against our centre, and upon our right, while the left was only so much engaged as to pre- vent it from detaching reinforcements. This effort to force the British position was the fiercest vet made. For a moment THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 113 the cavalry were driven back, and the ad- vanced artillery taken, but rallying again, they charged into the very centre of the enemy's columns, and cut several battalions to pieces. " It was none o' your pull trigger, fire- away, now hit, now miss, kind of work, but close, hand-to-hand, man-to-man fighting, so as you might tell whether your enemy's breath was flavoured with garlic or parsley. " For above an hour this struggle lasted, extending, as it did, along nearly the whole line; but after a slaughter of thousands, the enemy found it impossible to make any impression upon us, and again fell back. Evening was now coming on, and just as the French were repulsed in this, their fourth great attack, the operations of the Prussians began upon their right flank and rear. " I need scarcely say with what joy we re' VOL. L I 114 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. ceived this well-timed reinforcement; for although, as the Duke has often declared, he never doubted for an instant the issue of the battle throughout the day, yet, de- pending upon this support, and its being delayed for hours beyond the time ex- pected, he might well exclaim, as an aide-de-camp galloped up, and told him that a particular division was reduced to one- third, ' Would to God that night or Blucher were come ! ' " The left wing of the Prussians advanced separately, and commenced a furious attack with six battalions, upon the village of Planchenoit, in the rear of the French, Here several bloody charges were made, but the post was maintained in spite of every exertion to take it. *' It was now a critical moment for Bona- parte, and he saw that but one more chance remained on the die. A fourth THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 115 column of attack was now formed, almost entirely composed of his Guard, and which he conducted in person. Upon reaching the middle of the slope, he ordered Ney to lead them on, and they were supported, as before, by heavy and well-served discharges of artillery. " Our battalions of the Guards advanced in line nearly to the brow of the hill, and receiving orders to lie down and shelter themselves from the storm of shot, the Duke took his station behind them, to Avatch for the moment when they might spring up, and, in their turn, charge upon the enemy. "The Imperial Guard — those fine old veterans whom all Europe acknowledged to be worthy of the title of Invincible — marched towards the ridge without a waver or a flinch, although whole files were knocked over from a galling fire from our I 2 116 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. right, the guns being served with wonderful precision. Nothing, however, stopped, or even checked their advance. On they came, and just as their heads tipped above the summit of the hill, that order was given, which still warms many an old sol- dier's breast — ' Up, Guards, and at 'em again ! ' "Then such a volley was poured into their ranks, into their very faces — with our muzzles almost crossing — which made them stagger again. And then, moved as one man, our brave fellows rushed for'ard at the point o' the bayonet, with a hurrah which seemed to quail the enemy ; and, without waiting to receive the charge, they turned and runned away. Ay, comrade," said Corporal Crump, bringing the palm of his dexter hand violently upon the mahogany table, to the imminent risk of the glass and spoon, which jumped, jingled, and reeled THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. llj upon its surface, " they turned and runned away ! " The little general shopkeeper repeated the words to himself in a whisper, and, after a moment's cogitation, came to the conclusion that he should have acted in a corresponding manner, under correspond- ing circumstances. " In less than a brace of minutes," re- sumed the corporal, " three hundred had fallen; while the Duke, leading up the forty-second and ninety-fifth, took them in flank. This attack was made with what was called the Middle Guard, and the track of the flying column might be seen by the dying and the dead. Marshal Ney's horse was soon shot under him, but sword in hand, he tried to rally the panic-stricken troops, and rushed into the thickest of the fight. All he could do, however, was use- less. The advanced corps, falling back in 118 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. disorder upon the Old Guard, who were in reserve at the bottom of the slope, the whole became in confusion, and each began to think of escape in preference to duty, order, and discij)line. "An opportunity now offered for our cavalry to act, and for'ard they swept into the midst of the French ranks, giving them as liberal allowance of cold steel, as willing hands and trusty sabres could inflict. Some battalions of the Old Guard formed themselves into squares, and endeavoured to cover the retreat, but they were soon broken and cut to pieces by the cavalry, or hurried along with the rest. No quarter was either asked or given, and although the artillery had ceased firing, on account of the likelihood of doing as much mischief to our own men as those of the enemy, yet the slaughter was no less great from the sabre and bayonet. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 119 ^' Bonaparte saw that with the repulse of the Imperial Guard his last hope was gone — the right wing of his army was broken in three places, while the greatest confusion prevailed in the rear — and that, in short, the day was lost. Fearing that Blucher would place his army in force upon the high road to Genappe, he hallooed out, ^ We must save ourselves ! ' and setting spurs to his horse, led the way at a pace far from slow, " The Duke, seeing the confusion in which the enemy was thrown, not only in the front by our charge, but also in the rear by the Prussians, suddenly shut up his tele- scope, and exclaimed, ^ Now, every man must advance." " The order was no sooner given than executed. The whole line forming four deep, supported by the cavalry and in- fantry, led by the Duke, who placed him- i20 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. self at the head of the Foot Guards, ad- vanced upon the confused forces of the French. The regiments on our flanks formed into squares, and accompanied the line down the slope, to protect it from cavalry, while at this moment the rays of the setting sun gleamed from behind a bank of clouds, as if to gild our triumph and our victory. "At every point the charge was success- ful. The whole French army, panic-struck, hurried away in whatever direction seemed most likely to offer escape, while our men cut them down like grass before a scythe. The carnage was terrific; and as column after column, cavalry, infantry, and artil- lery, rolled furiously onwards, a sea of bodies was left in their rear. " The Prussians in particular gave rein to their hatred, and being fresh on the field, the slaughter they committed was THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 121 fearful. The pursuit continued as far as Genappe, where the Duke and Blucher met for the first time on that eventful day. Most people say and think that the place of their meeting was La Belle Alliance ; but take the word of an old soldier, comrade, who was not far oiF, that it was Genappe, and no other. Here they decided that the Prussians should continue the pursuit alone, and considering that we had had a tolerable innings in a clear twelve hours' fight, it was not, perhaps, more than fell to their share. Eight well, however, did they perform the duty. Not a moment's repose was allowed the enemy, and during the night, they were successively driven from nine bivouacs. In a few villages they tried to maintain themselves ; but the sound of the trumpet and drum renewed their panic, and away they went like sheep before a pack of wolves. 122 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " There must be an end to all things," observed the corporal, draining the last drop from his glass, by way, perhaps, of illustrating his argument, " and such was the end of the battle of Waterloo." "Tell me,'' said Jacob Giles, who appeared as full of excitement as a parched pea upon a drum-head, '^ tell me, Corporal," and he rubbed the tips of his fingers briskly as he spoke, ''whether you're sure of having slayed a Frenchman with your own hands." " As certain as my name's Crump," rejoined the veteran, " and these," con- tinued he, stretching out a pair of as hard, bony, uncompromising-looking hands as eyes ever beheld, ''are the identical bunches of fives that did the trick.' " Let me hear all about it. Corporal," returned Jacob, regarding his companion's broad palms, as they were held up for his especial notice, with a feeling akin to awe. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 123 " It makes my flesh creep ; but still I derive a kind of painful pleasure in listening to horrors, accidents, and offences. I invariably," continued he, " pick 'em out as tit-bits from the newspapers." " Well, comrade ! " ejaculated the old soldier, " it doesn't sound musical to chant one's own praise ; but as what I'm going to tell ye takes us into Brussels, where we ought to have been (for aught I know) without fighting the battle of Waterloo over again, I'll let you into the secret of the way in which I grabbed an eagle." " An eagle ! " ejaculated the little general shopkeeper, elevating his brow and dropping his lower jaw. " An eagle, Corporal!" "Ay," returned his companion, " that was the bird. Talking, though, is dry work," and with this prefatory remark, he pointed to the exhausted goblet, as a strong hint for its prompt replenishment. 124 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Jacob, knowing full well what the cor- poral's taste was, poured a large preponde- rating quantity of brandy to that of water into the glass. " You guess the right measure exactly, comrade," said the corporal, smiling. " By dad, Sir ! " continued he, '' it isn't every- body who can mix my liquor to my liking," and then with a loud, strong clearing of his voice, he again settled himself in his chair to take up the thread of his narrative. " It was during the last charge, when we were mixed up with the enemy and driving them before us in flying and broken masses, that I caught sight of a French ensign, making oif with the staff and colours of his regiment. I went at him, comrade, with a will, depend on't; but as I made my thrust at him, he turned, and, parry- ing it with his sword, cut at my head, leaving this pretty scar as an addition to THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 125 my beauty," and as he spoke, Corporal Crump slowly traced the scar with a fore- finger across his countenance. " As one good turn deserves another," said he, "I bayoneted him now from the chin upwards, which w^ent through his jaws, and seemed to stagger him considerably. At this moment a lancer tried to give me a taste, but missing his mark, I managed to give him a parting salute by sending a ball between his shoulders, and he dropped his lance as if at that moment it became too hot to hold. Again I closed with the ensign, who looked a terrible object as the blood gushed from his mouth and throat, and failing to turn a thrust which I made at his middle, I ran him through and dropped him without a groan. Clutching the staiF from his dead, vice-like gripe, I saw to my joy that it was surmounted by an eagle — a rare prize, and to the honour of the French 126 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE- be it spoken, one which was seldom allowed to fall into the hands of an enemy. " No sooner was my trophy known to our General, than I received orders to bear it to the rear, and many a cheer greeted my march, as I waved the blood-stained colours above my head, on my road back to Brussels. " We have now," said Corporal Crump, " arrived by a wide circle to where our story ought to have begun." 127 CHAPTER IX. ^' I HAD no sooner arrived in Brussels," said the corporal— " and a pretty stir the city was in, from the news of the great victory — than I went straight to the old quarters of Lieutenant Somerset; for although I had often thought both of him and his young wife since the muster on the morning of our march to Quatre Bras, I had neither seen nor heard of him. This, how- ever, caused me little wonder, as many officers could not join their regiments before the march commenced, and were unable to 128 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. find them afterwards. It has been said," continued Corporal Crump, in a confidential tone, " that a few were absent without any such excuse, and the Duke was furnished with a list of 'em ; but after reading it, and jotting their names down in his memory with the intention, doubtless, of promoting them at the first fitting opportunity, he tore the paper into remarkably small pieces and said, ^ There can be no cowards in the British Army. Those who were absent from their duty require all the condolence which their friends can give them, and I'll not suppose one capable of being so, had it been possible for him to be present.' '^ It was a noble way of treating the white-feathered file : but our tongues don't always express our thoughts, comrade. " As I knocked at the door of the house, a sort of echo came from it which sounded to my cars that all was not right within. I THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 129 don't know how it is, but I've heard many another old woman say, besides myself, that sorrow sends clouds before to prepare us for its coming. " Having rapped several times, and getting no answer to the summons, I walked in to search for intelligence, and by the dull glimmer of a lamp through the door of an apartment left ajar, I saw Lieutenant Somerset writing as fast as his pen would drive on a table before him. "' Thank God ! ' exclaimed I, kicking open the door with less ceremony, perhaps, than became a private when addressing his superior officer. ^ Thank God, Sir, that you're safe ! ' " ^ Safe ! ' he repeated, almost in a scream, as he started from his seat, and fixed his eyes, glaring like a maniac's, upon me. ' Who says I'm safe ? ' " ' Why, Lieutenant Somerset,' rejoined VOL. I. K loO THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. I, ' don^t you know your old servant Crump? ' " * Yes, yes,' he returned, hurriedly ; ' well, very well.' " ^ Then speak to me, Sir,* said I, * as you used to speak. Are you ill or wounded ? ' " ' Wounded ! ' he hissed between his clenched teeth, and clasping his hands to- gether, he wrung them till the very joints snapped. ' No, no, I am not wounded. Ha, ha, ha! Pm safe, quite safe. You say so, don't ye ? Ha, ha, ha ! All know Pm safe ! There's not a drummer-boy in the service but will tell you so within a week,' and then he muttered an oath too strong even for me to repeat, although I've spit out my venom ill that form before now, comrade, pretty round and stiff. " Seeing that some great screw was loose, and that his state bordered on positive mad- ness, I felt almost afraid to press him THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 131 further, but he soon relieved me of the difficulty. " ' What have you there? ' said he, fiercely, pointing to the staff and colors, ' and how did you get that blood on your face ? ' " * This, Sir,' answered I, holding them at arm's length, so as to display them the better, * is an eagle which I took myself in a hand-to-hand fight from a French officer, and the blood's from a sabre cut which he gave me in return.' " ' Now God help me ! ' he cried, in the wild tone of one goaded by despair and misery. ' And where think you I was the while?' ' Where you've ever been. Sir,* returned I, ' when duty called, at your post, if not with your corps.' ''''Here!' hallooed he, stamping on the floor, ' here, I tell you here. I didn't join, Crump. What say ye to that? Ha, ha, ha ! k2 132 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. His words caused a dizziness to come over me ; and not being particularly fresh from the effects of my wound, hard work, and short rations, I dropped upon a chair, sick as a baby. " ' How, Sir,' said I, as well as I could speak, ' did that happen? ' ''With a control which he seemed suddenly to possess over himself, he drew a seat close to mine, and in a quiet manner and voice, that was only broken now and then with a kind of gasp, he replied, ' They'll try me by court-martial, I suppose, and that which I am now about telling you will be told to them. IVe no defence to offer, no justifi- cation to make. The truth is an admission of my guilt.' " He here appeared choked ; but after the lapse of a few seconds, recovered his com- posure, and then proceeded. " ' On the night that the signal was given THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 133 for US to muster, I was in bed with my wife, who, as you may know, was in the condition of an expectant mother. The roll of the drums woke me; but for a short time I could scarcely believe that the sounds were other than the effects of a dream ; but the assembling of the troops and the increasing noise and confusion, quickly convinced me of the reality of what I heard. " ' A soldier's wife knows the meaning of the sounds of fife, drum, and trumpet as Avell as himself, and mine, starting from her sleep, exclaimed, " That's the muster roll ! What can it mean? " " * IntelHgence of the enemy's approach,' replied I, ' if I may guess the cause.* '' '■ But you'll not leave me now,' she rejoined, trembling with fear, * not yet; pray do not leave me yet.' " *' • Not leave you ! ' I returned, as I 134 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. hurried on my uniform. ' And you a soldier's wife ! ' " ' Yes, yes,' she added, ' I know that, I know all; but' — and here, bursting into tears, she twined her arms around my neck with a look so piteous, that J felt it weaken and unman me. " ^ Tell me,' I rejoined, * all you would say. The cause of our separation is irre- mediable, and the call peremptory ; but this was long anticij^ated by both, and you promised, when the hour arrived, not to add to our pain by fruitless tears and suppli- cations.' '^ ' Oh, do not blame me ! ' she exclaimed, in a fresh agony of grief. ' You little know what I now suffer. You could not chide me if you did ! ' " ' Perceiving large beads of perspiration standing upon her forehead, and that she shook like one stricken with the palsy in THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 135 every limb, the dreadful truth at once flashed upon my brain that she was then in the first throes of travail. " ' Forgive me if I can scarcely say what I did. I remember, or think I do, rushing wildly into the streets, and finding them blocked up with troops, artillery- waggons, and crowds of citizens. In every quarter I sought assistance; but in vain. Wives were parting from their husbands, children from their parents, friends from friends, and one and all so occupied with themselves, that none would listen to me. It might be that I was scarcely understood, for my senses seemed gone, and I returned to the chamber of my wife to find her alone and helpless in her trouble. ^^ ' Loud, and louder yet the drums beat? and the bugles sounded to arms ; but there was one sword which remained in its scabbard — and that sword was mine. 136 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " ' Do not leave me yet ; pray not yet,' was the oft- repeated petition, which kept me spell-bound to the spot. " ' There was no turning from it, and there I remained, hour after hour, to watch the sufferer, and alleviate her pains. "'What was I to do?' said the wretched man, clasping his brow with violence. ' I could not leave her, as I thought, to die. He must be something more or less than man who could. Perhaps /was less; but with her, whom I swore, before my God, to honour and protect, 1 remained to my honour's cost and worldly ruin. " ' Hours passed, and the spirit, fluttering on the threshold of life, was still delayed, until the mother seemed sinking from the effort to give it birth. "'Aid was at length obtained; but the opinion of the attendant led me to believe that 1 was probably witnessing the ebbing THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 137 of a life more precious to me than all the world besides. " ' Little — and but little more, perhaps, is necessary for me to say. After enduring the greatest danger, it was passed in safety ; but too late for me to retrieve the momen- tous opportunity which had been lost. Maddened as I am at that thought, and knowing full well my misery will be scoffed at, and made the subject of licentious ridicule, I still,' continued he, weeping as I never saw a strong man weep before, 'would act again as I then did, at the peril of my eternal soul.' " Some griefs like some wounds," said Corporal Crump, allaying a slight feeling of dust in his throat, by a seasonable appeal to his glass, " are too deep for speedy healing, and the best plan, in such cases, is to give 'em time, and let 'em alone. Seeing that I could do no good just then, and that my 138 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE- poor master was quite beyond all balm of comfort that / could render, I thought it wiser to let him be by himself a bit, and stealing quietly out of the room, I left, on the night of the day on which the battle of Waterloo was won, as good and brave a soldier as ever drew a sword, broken-hearted that he was not there. 139 CHAPTER X. a Vj Fm spinning a long yarn, comrade," said Corporal Crump. '' You'll begin to grow weary of an old soldier's gabble, I fear/' "No, no," replied Jacob, administering an unusual supply of friction to the ends of his fingers; "that's impossible. I can listen," continued he, " for ever, and, if required, considerably longer." "Well!" rejoined his companion, "in that case I'll proceed with my story, and arriye by easy marches to the end." 140 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. '' In consequence of little attention being paid to my wound for several hours after receiving it, inflammation set in, and I was pronounced unable to join the forces which put an extinguisher upon Bonaparte's power by their prompt occupation of Paris. ** Glad of the opportunity of remaining with my poor master, who gradually sank into a dull, lifeless kind of state, from which there was no rousing him, I did my best in watching him both night and day, and easing, as far as I was able, the load of care from his sorrowful wife and young mother of his child. " It was a hard duty; and finding I could make but little way, I thought of the chaplain's words, and prayed, in a rough kind of manner I fear, to Him who, weVe told, is as ready to hearken to the private's petition as He is to the general's. "We don't, d'ye see, comrade, always THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 141 understand what's best for us ; and we often want, like whining children, that which would exactly turn out to be the worst. The end of our plans and schemes often proves this to be the case ; and it is not for us to think that because we are denied the things we crave, mercy is not at the root of the denial. However I'm not A 1 at a sermon, and so here goes for another spell at the facts. ^' I prayed, you must know, as a man should when he prays at all — in earnest, that the lieutenant might be comforted and restored to peace of mind and contentment of heart. I asked too that he might keep his rank in this world, and be found among the most worthy in that to come. His wife and child were not forgotten ; and I wound up with a strong hope that all three might live long and happy lives, and that I might be permitted to make a fourth in the ring. 142 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " I didn't forget myself, comrade," said the corporal, tapping himself significantly on the breast. "A man's a fool, Sir, who forgets himself under the most pressing cir- cumstances, and as I've said before, the Crumps are the original blades spoken of in history as sharp, keen-set razors. " I can't say," continued he, " that there was as favourable an answer as could be desired ; for my master grew daily worse, and at last became little short of a confirmed idiot. Listless of all that passed around him, the day came and the day went without any ap- parent impression being made upon his mind, although occasionally he imagined himself on his trial, and would go through the whole story with little variation than as he told it to me. " It was a situation of difficulty, as a friend of mine observed when pinioned to be hanged, and I felt myself sorely puzzled THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 143 what to do for the best. The exchequer, never at the best of times too well furnished, became extremely low, and it was as much as I could do to forage for our daily rations. But what with my pay — a whole shilling a- day," chuckled the corporal, '^ barring de- ductions — ^puttingmyself on short allowance of tobacco and grog, and making prizes of a few odds and ends which people didn't miss, and consequently couldn't want, I managed to keep a particularly lean and hungry animal from the door, which other- wise might have paid us a most unwelcome and speedy visit. " Matters went on in this way for the best part of three months, when a letter with a large official seal upon it, and directed to Lieutenant Somerset, was delivered into my hands; and thinking it the wiser plan to make myself acquainted with its contents before anybody else possessed the same advantage, I snapped the wax^ and 144 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. thanked the planet under which I'd been born, that I went oftener to the Sunday- school than to play pitch and toss on the green. ** It was merely a formal admission from head-quarters of the receipt of the resig- nation of the lieutenant's commission. No word alluded to his conduct, and whether an explanation accompanied it, or not, at the time of his sending it in, was never known from that day to this. *'It was now clear to my mind that no further notice would be taken either of him or the offence of which he had been guilty. Indeed, his situation was such that nothing could have been done by the way of punish- ment, as the depth of misery to which he had sunk possessed no lower. " After considering well what steps had better be taken, Mrs. Somerset determined upon returning to England; and although it's not a rule of mine to study the interests of THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 145 others in preference to my own, I made up my mind to go with her, provided I could get my discharge. The war being at an end, there was not much difficulty in obtaining this, and with a pension of ten- pence a-day, the rank of a full corporal, and, 1 believe, the character of a good soldier, I quitted his most gracious Majesty's service " — Corporal Crump brought his right hand, with a squared elbow, stiffly to his forehead, and saluted the King — " to defend and protect, instead of my country, a poor broken-down man in body and mind, a little fat ball of a female squeaker, who looked first cousin to an angel, and a good dear lady, not — " the corporal dropped his voice to a scarcely audible whisper — " much better qualified to struggle with the world than the aforesaid sucking baby at her bosom. " For home, or as I should say to seek VOL. L 146 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. one, we sailed, and, after squatting down at one place and then at another — places which the poor lieutenant knew when he was a boy — in the hope that visiting them might work a change for the better, we at last settled in a little quiet sea-side nook in the west of England. *' Now and then, but somewhat few and far between, letters containing money in small sums arrived for my mistress. Where, however, they came from, or by whom they were sent, I was not informed, and what may appear stranger to you, comrade, I never tried to find out." Jacob Giles made the silent admission within himself, that the latter part of the corporal's statement far exceeded the for- mer in the production of astonishment, and he mentally acknowledged, that, had he been similarly situated, he should have exercised his best powers to have made the THE BELLE OF THE \ILLAGE. 147 discovery with the least possible lapse or I* loss of time. " The cottage which we occupied was a snug little box within a few yards of the shore," resumed Corporal Crump, " and either in wandering along the sands, or watching his little child play with the pebbles on the beach, the poor lieutenant's harmless life glided on with scarcely a change from one twelvemonth's end to another. He made no inquiries, rarely spoke ; but would sit for hours, with his blinkless eyes fixed on vacancy and dwelling upon one thought, the maddening misery of his brain. And so days were added to days, and, at length, years to years." '' Changes, however, slowly as they may work, are ever going on. Many of us, and I may say most of us, comrade," said the corpo- ral, emphatically, " are apt to hug ourselves with the notion, that wiiat has lasted for T 9 148 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. long will still last on. But life, and all belonging to it, is like a wound-up clock, which, when set a-going, is continually running down. '' One day I noticed that the lieutenant looked paler than usual, and his limbs trembled under him as he walked. The following morning he roused us all at sun- rise, and begged that the curtains from the chamber windows might be withdrawn, and that the casement might be opened. *' ' Let me,' said he, * once more see the glorious giver of life, and feel the fresh breezes of heaven play upon my brow. It does not ache now, Clara,' continued he, speaking to his wife, ^ but,' and he shook his head mournfully, ' how it has throbbed for years, long years ! I know all that has passed,' and as he spoke, he clasped his hands together, ' a dream too frightful and, alas ! too real. The hand of affliction has THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 149 been heavy upon me and upon mine; but the hour is near when our troubled hearts shall be at rest.' " He then asked for his little child, and taking her in his arms he looked earnestly in her face, and prayed God to bless her. " I think I see him now, comrade," said the corporal, hastily brushing something from his cheek, " folding her to his breast and kissing her as I'd seldom seen him do before. " That which he said to me is not worth repeating, only that it's as well to observe that I didn't deserve one fourth part to what his grateful soul gave vent. " By his wish I now led little Clara from the room, and the few remaining moments of his life were witnessed by her alone whose broken spirit will be healed only when they are united again in heaven." Corporal Crump's voice faltered with the 150 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. conclusion of the sentence; but its steadi- ness of tone recovered under the influence of a timely appeal to Jacob's mixture. " We remained at the cottage for some time after the lieutenant's death," con- tinued he, " and it seemed a melancholy pleasure mth my mistress to go almost daily to her husband's grave, in a small, out-o'-the-way churchyard close by, and plant it with garden flowers. Poor thing ! I'm afraid she often watered them with her tears. '' Soon after this event, letters arrived for Mrs. Somerset, which seemed in no way to lighten her grief, and, I fear, added no weight to her purse. " It was a struggle not to look hungry, now and then, for some of us, I assure ye ; but we did our best to hold up our heads, and put the most smiling face in our power upon porridge, brown bread, potatoes, and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 151 salt. Hard lines though for a lady born, comrade ! Worse than a few score with the cat to a back that's used to 'em. " There's but one more circumstance I've got to mention to bring my story down to the present time," said the corporal. " An old soldier obeys orders without asking for whys and wherefores," continued he, " and upon Mrs. Somerset desiring me to pack up our kit, and follow her the day after her starting for these parts, I didn't ask the reason for the march. There was none offered and none given, and the rest you know as well as myself Here we are in good quarters, and it's to be looked upon as a miracle that we found them. Comrade, your health." 152 CHAPTER XL The room assigned for Leonard Wood- bee's study was oak-panelled, dark, and gloomy as an anchorite's celL If a ray of the sun managed to slant itself through the narrow casement, placed like a loophole in the massive walls, it was always of the most sickly hue. Not a fly ever buzzed there, and the jack-o'-lanterns, reflected from a dull and slimy fish-pond beneath, danced upon the ceiling like so many- gibbering and pale-faced spectres. A wide hearth yawned at one end of the apart- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 153 ment, but a long time had elapsed since faggot or yule log blazed upon it ; and the wind moaned and sighed in the huge chimney, as if caged against its will, and eager to escape. The young student sat alone, with a volume resting upon his knees, and, although his looks were fixed upon an open page, he seemed to be making but slow progress in accomplishing the task allotted to him. In an attitude which proclaimed mental exhaustion, he reclined on his chair, and, with pale cheeks and heavy eyelids, read the Greek alphabet over and over again; but when he attempted to repeat it from memory, he invariably failed, and had to have recourse to the book. It was weary work, and the boy ran his fingers through his luxuriant curls, and brushing them from his forehead, sighed as if his young heart was sad indeed. 154 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. At this moment a light footfall fell on his ear, and before he could turn round to learn from whom it came, an arm fondly encircled his neck, and his head was pressed upon his mother's bosom. " Tell me, Leonard," she said, in a soft, clear voice, and printing a kiss upon his brow, " have you learned your lessons? " " Not one," replied the child, almost startling her with the energy of his manner; " I've not learned one, mother." " But you'll try to do so, dear? " rejoined she. " Try ! " he repeated, '* I'm always trying; but it's no use," continued the child, shaking his head, " I shall never learn Greek." " With patience and time you will," returned his mother. " All find difficulties at first." " mother," ejaculated the boy, burst- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 155 ing into a passionate flood of tears, and throwing himself into her arms, " why am I tortured so? Sleeping or waking this dreadful book," and he held up the volume to her gaze, " is always before me. I dream of nothing else, and even when I try to play, it often seems to dance before my eyes, and I can play no more." ^' Hush, hush ! " added she, clasping him more closely to her bosom. " Speak not so, dear one. Come, come, take courage, and in a little while you'll conquer all these fears." "Do you think so, mother?" said he, looking inquiringly into her face. " I hope so, Leonard," she returned; for had she spoken as her thoughts dictated, her answer must have been at variance with her hopes. "I was so happy'' sobbed the boy, '^ with Miss Baxter. " I never knew then that there had been any Greeks." 156 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " But it's necessary that a man should be clever," expostulated Mrs. Woodbee; "and your future happiness — at least, so your father and Doctor Starkie say — depends upon your becoming learned and great." "But do you say so, too, mother?" asked the child. " It really could not be of the slightest consequence, dear boy," she replied, with an ineffectual attempt to suppress a sigh, " whatever I might say upon the subject. For your own sake, and mine, Leonard, you must endeavour to apply your mind to your studies, and when concluded, each day we will wander through the fields to- gether, and gather flowers as we used to do, and I'll tell those old stories which you love so well, until you grow as tired of them as you now are of your Greek grammar." " I should never get tired with listening to them," responded he, " never! " THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 157 Approaching footsteps were now heard tramping slowly and heavily along the corridor, which connected that lonely room with the less desolate parts of the house, and as they came near and nearer still, the colour went and flushed in the boy's face, as if the beating of his heart became suddenly more irregular than its wont. A violent trembling also seized his limbs, and his eyes turned instinctively to his mother's face, with a plaintive expression mingled with alarm. '' Tis merely Doctor Starkie, Leonard," observed his mother, drawing slightly from him; ^'you're not frightened of him?" " Yes, I am," he rejoined, " very much frightened. And if he frowned upon you, and spoke as sharply as he often does to me, you'd be frightened too." The sentence was scarcely concluded, when Doctor Starkie, the Oxford double- 158 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. first prize-man, presented himself at the door, and perceiving the presence of Mrs. Woodbee, gently raised the palms of his hands, and bringing them together as noiselessly as a purring cat rubs her paws, expressed a silent, but lively pleasure at the sight which met his view. The doctor appeared just turned on the shady side of forty, possessing a lean, straight figure, invariably decked in a sable costume, and looking like a large stick of black sealing-wax, or an undertaker of strictly abstemious habits. His coat was single-breasted, cut with a sharp angular collar, and a black silk waistcoat, buttoned closely to the throat, looked a tight, rigid, and uncomfortable garment. Round his throat was a narrow, white cravat, stiffly (.arched, and his lank, long jaws were cleanly shaved, and as smooth as the back of a lady's hand. A wide, lipless mouth THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 159 stretched across his face, and from a habit which he possessed, of drawing the corners back, it formed a sort of large parenthesis. A long, sharp nose, tapering downwards to a point, had a decided tendency to meet a slightly turned-up chin ; while a pair of little bright, black e5^es, set behind two projecting cheek-bones, glistened like an angry ferret's. To these far from favourable points in the " human face divine," according, at least, to the received and standard rules of phy- siognomy, Doctor Starkie possessed a brow which gave the observer an impression that the double-first prizes had not been awarded to a man devoid of brains. It was not lofty, but there was a width and squareness in its formation, leaving little doubt of the capacity and nature of the soil in which a most extensive crop of classics had been drilled, ripened and harvested with care. Oh ! but the doctor could quote 160 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. glibly from every Latin and Greek author, whose respective books, it would appear, are purposely designed for the agency of birching little boys, and the " plucking" of larger ones. He had them all at his fingers^ ends, and could rattle them off, without more trouble to himself than blowing peas through a pea- shooter. A great scholar was Dr. Starkie ! The world conceded to him the full right and title to this honour, and awarded a liberal meed of praise to the walking lexicon. It would have been as well, perhaps, had there been equal reason for assigning corresponding merit to his goodness. " I'm afraid, Doctor Starkie," said Mrs. Woodbee, as he came, bowing, forward, "that I must be considered an interloper here. Indeed, it was my husband's express desire that I should not interrupt your pupil by visiting him in his hours of study ; but"— THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 161 "Make no apology, I beg, my dear Madam," interrupted the tutor, in a smooth oily voice, as he drew the corners of his mouth back, until they were in close proximity to his ears. " The solicitude of the mother," continued he, blandly, " is one of the purest, and, I might add, holiest — " the doctor, as he uttered this word, turned his eyes gravely upwards — " of nature's spontaneous dictates." " I was about to add," rejoined Mrs. Woodbee, without noticing the high-flown eulogy to her parental feelings, "that I thought Leonard looked paler than usual, and required more freedom, and that if you were of the same opinion, there would be little difficulty in obtaining my husband's consent to give him increased relaxation." " You flatter me," returned the doctor, bending with an obsequious, cringing air, VOL. I. M 162 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " in supposing that I possess such influence with one whom I am proud to call my friend and patron. Apollo's bow, however, was not always bent, and if it will afford you, my dear Madam, the smallest gratification that our young aspirant to fame here," and he placed a hand gently, and almost affec- tionately, upon Leonard's shoulders, "should not be so strict a proselyte of Minerva, we will obtain an indulgence, and free him from a part of the most irk- some of his labours." " I feel greatly indebted for your ready compliance with my wish," added Mrs. Woodbee, "and I trust," continued she, turning to her son, " that you, Leonard, will appreciate Doctor Starkie's kindness, by diligently applying, at those times ap- pointed for your studies." "I'll try," said the child, lifting his heavy eyelids, and fixing a look approach- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 163 ing to despair, upon his mother. " I'm always trying." With a kiss of encouragement, his mother now left him in the dreaded society of the doctor, who, in his imagination, was quite as much to be feared as one of those terrible ogres spoken of by Miss Baxter. Nothing could possibly be more abrupt than the variation of tone which the doctor assumed upon the departure of Mrs. Woodbee. To the moment of closing the door upon her, which he did with so gentle a manner that neither hinge, lock, nor bolt jarred upon the ear, he was all bows, smiles, and acquiescence. In his tread, too, across the room, it seemed as if the soles of his shoes were bound with list, so stealthily and noiselessly was his gait. But after listening for a few seconds for the purpose, it would appear, to assure himself that no likelihood existed of anything he m2 164 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. might now say or do being overheard, a marvellous change took place in the external demeanour of Doctor Starkie. ^' Well, Sir," cried he, with a sharpness of tone and gesture, which had the effect of making little Leonard skip from his seat as if some pointed instrument had suddenly been thrust under it, " can you now dis- tinguish the difference between Alpha and Omega, Delta and Epsilon? " " I'll try, Sir," replied the pupil, with a nervous gasp, sounding exceedingly like a hiccough, ^a'll— I'll— I'll try, Sir," repeated he. '^ Thank you," rejoined bis tutor, with affected obligation, as he threw himself back with dignity in his chair, and fixed his eyes upon the trembling child. " I feel exceedingly indebted for the promised effort, and might have entertained still greater satisfaction had it been exercised more THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 165 successfully at an earlier period. We have made little progress, young Sir,'' continued he, with a frown, which brought the ogres most forcibly to Leonard's mind, " and it is indispensable for our respective positions, that more speed should be accomplished, without the delay of an hour; ay," con- tinued he, as if weighing the brief period which he had named, " without the delay even of an hour." " I'll try. Sir," returned the child — it was the only answer he felt capable of giving. "I'Utry, Sir." " And I'll take care that your best energies are awakened in the trial," rejoined the doctor, with a nod which carried with it an undefined threat. " I am led to agree with your excellent father," continued he, "whom I have consulted on the subject during my temporary absence from this room, that the latent mental powers of which you are 166 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. doubtlessly in possession, lie dormant, and require the application of strong means to rouse them to action. I myself, young Sir, have witnessed many instances of this kind, and although equally unpleasant as it must prove to both of us, to have recourse to them, I cannot allow my system of instruc- tion to be called into question. My character, to a certain degree, is at stake and — '' Doctor Starkie dropped his voice as if the concluding portion of the sentence was intended only for himself, '' probably my interests." Leonard listened with the profoundest attention to each word as it fell from his tutor's lips ; but like the Greek, the greater portion of what was said reached far beyond the limits of his comprehension. The doctor looked a greater ogre than ever ! *^If I may judge," continued he, "by the vacancy of the stare with which you THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 167 are favouring me, the meaning I wish to convey is not clearly understood." " No," replied the boy, shaking his head, " I don't know what you mean. You told mamma that I should have more play and less study ; but I don't think you mean that now." " In that particular, young Sir," rejoined the doctor, "you understand me to the letter; and yet you will find it to your advantage," and he spoke slowly, so that each word might fall with effect, " not to appear discontented or adverse to the discipline observed for your improvement. Mammas are not the best judges for over- indulged children, and the most desirable plan for avoiding their importunities is to yield to their arguments without granting their wishes. It may be called Jesuitical, and I believe is so, but an immense amount of trouble is saved by the proceeding. 168 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Now," continued Doctor Starkie, " that there may be no error or misconception on your part, my dear young friend, I shall conclude what I am going to say in very plain language. I do not choose, and, moreover, positively forbid your complain- ing to your amiable mamma or to others, either directly or indirectly, of my treat- ment towards you in my capacity of your preceptor. My authority must be absolute, and there must be no interference ; but to avoid unnecessary trouble and vexation, I require you to assume, whatever your feelings may be, an entire satisfaction with it. I can allow of no lamentations or expressions of discontent, as they would prove embarrassing to me, and be produc- tive of a baneful influence upon my ease and comfort, which I hope to enjoy during my sojourn in this establishment. You will observe, young Sir, if you are in pos- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 169 session of the most finite powers of observa- tion, that no one can be more frank," and as he spoke he stretched the angles of his mouth back, " than I am with you." Leonard looked at his tutor for minutes without a blink, and felt persuaded that one of those early mundane monsters, who swal- lowed helpless children by the bushel in subterranean caves, now sat before him. " I shall not say more on the subject this morning," observed the doctor, consider- ately; " but take my word for it, my dear young friend, unless you pay more than ordinary regard to my directions for the future, I shall adopt a plan which can scarcely fail to draw your attention to them," and then his eyes glistened, as Leonard thought, more brightly than ever, and reminiscences of gigantic cannibals of old presented themselves to his view more vividly, if possible, than before. 170 CHAPTER XII. Who is he that never rests, whose labours began with the beginning, to which there can be no termination, no lapse, no check? Who is he to whom ages past are but as units in his ceaseless course, the wreck of nations but as atoms in his balance? Who is he that scatters man's noblest works, and crumbles them into dust, as if they had never been? Who is he that sweeps the bloom and beauty from childhood's happy face, to make room for the wrinkled cheek of passion, sorrow, misery, and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 171 sin? Let the glory of empires passed away, the moss-grown ruin, and the old, tottering on the verge of eternity, reply: " It is Time, and, in us, you see what must be the end of all things pertaining to mortality." In a few weeks there was an end even to the curiosity excited in the minds of the inhabitants of Grundy's Green and its vicinity, relative to the arrival of the general shopkeeper's visitors; or, as they were now called, his "lodgers." It was universally received as an axiom, that Mrs. Somerset was the widow of an officer, with slender means ; that Miss Clara was a pretty, gentle child, and the Belle of the Village ; and that Corporal Crump, although occa- sionally given to be dictatorial in expressing his sentiments in the bar-parlour of the Harrow and Pitchfork, was acknowledged, with one consent, " fit company for a lord." 172 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. With the drawback before mentioned, no one could be more popular in the neigh- bourhood than the old soldier, and in the front rank of his admirers might be classed Mistress Twigg, the buxom hostess of that far-famed hostelrie. It began to be whispered, indeed — so rife was the locality with reports, sayings, and doings — that the corporal already entertained a feeling of compassion for Mistress Twigg's lonely condition. If, however, the smallest foundation existed for this statement, the superstructure shall not be raised till a more fitting opportunity presents itself. It may have been stated before, but it will bear repetition, that the bar- parlour of the Harrow and Pitchfork was one of those cozy and caressing nooks, which, when the little fire burned brightly to throw a lustrous light around, and the wind howled and roared in the chimney-pot, and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 173 rattled the winter sleet and rain against the panes of the bow- window, snugly screened by scarlet curtains, and whistled through keyholes, chinks, and crevices, and swung the old crazy sign-board, out- side, to and fro with a harsh creaking sound — then it may be alleged, without fear of contradiction, that the bar-parlour of the Harrow and Pitchfork was one of those cozy and caressing nooks, of which, when a man found himself once in possession, he would not be likely to relinquish in a hurry, or without duly weighing the probable chances of making a change considerably for the worst. The night — to use a metaphor of Ned, the ostler — was as dark as pitch, and a sharp, gusty wind drove a shower of mingled rain and sleet into the face of an exceedingly corpulent wayfarer, muffled to the eyes in a large shawl, and encased in a heavy, long 174 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. drab coat, as he pointed towards the cheerful light streaming from the bow- window of the bar-parlour on to the sloppy aud flooded road. He bent his chin well down upon his breast, in order that the broad-brimmed, low-crowned hat, pulled over his eyes, might protect his features as much as possible from the inclemency of the weathery and making the capacious sleeves of his outer garment muffs for his hands, as he crossed them one within the other, he looked from behind like a well-filled sack rolling along by imperceptible powers of locomotion. The rapid rotary motion of wheels in the distance now caught his ear, and, although within a few yards of the haven he was seeking, he stopped short, and turning round, saw a blaze of lamps, looking like the eyes of a monster in the dark, coming quickly towards him. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 175 " Oh," said he, communing with himself, "mail's a comin' up, eh? Thought she'd passed." Within a few seconds, and as the speaker reached the threshold of the Harrow and Pitchfork, up dashed four reeking horses, sadly at a loss for wind, while the wet, mire, and sweat, trickled in streams from their coats. " Now then, Ned," hallooed the coachman hoarsely, as he threw his unbuckled reins upon the backs of the wheelers, " look shar-r-p!" and as he spoke he descended quickly from his seat, and hastened towards the entrance of the inn. "What, Burly James !" said he, giving a friendly smack between the shoulders of the wearer of the drab coat, as he blocked up the doorway. " Is that you, my son?" " Ay, Jonathan," replied the individual addressed as Burly James, " that's me if I 176 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. haven't been lately changed for somebody else without my consent or knowledge." " Pity you should be," rejoined the coachman. " But what brings ye down the road such a night as this?" '' A sort of duck inclination to wet ray feet and soften my corns, I s'pose," returned Burly James, "or it might be, for aught you can tell, to meet my love. We rattling young fellers," continued he, " are some- times given that way, you know," and then the drab coat churned up and down, as if an explosion of mirth was shaking his system like the irruption from a hidden volcano. " Come," said Jonathan, " Pve not much time to lose, and Pm cold within, as well as without. Let us hear what physic Missis Twigg will recommend for the complaint." " Light load, I see," remarked Burly THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 177 James, flattening himself against the door- post, in order that room might be afforded for his friend to pass. " One old woman and a bandbox," said the coachman, " a child and a bird-cage." He was now joined by his nightly com- panion, the guard, a short, thickset indi- vidual, of whom little more could be seen, from among the layers of covering which defended his person, than the purple tip of his nose, and as the twain presented them- selves before Mistress Twigg as customers for something hot and nourishing, it was jointly declared that the selection of the ingredients was to be exclusively left to her. Mistress Twigg was pleased, Mistress Twigg was flattered; but there were difli- culties in the way sometimes of suiting gentlemen's tastes. She had heard of brandy and water being recommended as a VOL. I. N 178 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. wholesome beverage for a wet, cold night and a long journey. She had also known some people give a preference to rum, while others considered whiskey to be better than either. *' I once had an order," con- tinued the hostess, " of a hot glass of elder- berry with a soppet of toast in it; but that," continued she, with a smile closely allied to a sneer, " was from a commercial, and we all know what commercials are." " Devilish bad pay," replied the guard^ in a voice which seemed to have taken its present tone from the pit of his stomach. " I took a good deal o' trouble to shake a commercial out of his sleep," said he, " a few nights ago ; and when he'd got his eyes wide open, what do you think he tipped for Jonathan and Co. ? " It was impossible for Mistress Twigg to say, commercials were such strange cus- tomers. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 179 " Sixpence, as I'm a sinner ! " added the guard, drawing a step backwards, as if re- counting an atrocious act of the deepest dye. " Sixpence, as I'm a miserable sinner ! " Mistress Twigg was not surprised, far from it. At the same time she should feel it a duty to pray that that commercial might not want the sixpence in his declin- ing years ; and if she knew his name and address, she would take particular care that he did not Both the coachman and guard appeared to consider this a most excellent joke, and laughed immensely, while the hostess handed a glass of something to each, which savoured well to the olfactory nerves, and seemed to give satisfaction the most absolute to their respective palates. " Here's to the King ! " said the loyal coachman, raising his glass. " God bless him ! " responded a voice, N 2 180 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. and upon examining the quarter whence it proceeded, the cauliflower head of Corporal Crump was detected reclining against the back of the widow's own particular chair, his limbs stretched before the fire, and his attitude proving beyond a doubt that, with his usual practical philosophy, he was render- ing things as pleasant to himself as the nature of circumstances would admit. "Who's that?" observed the guard, in a husky whisper, and pointing with a straightened thumb in the direction of the corporal's seat. " One of the military," replied Mistress Twigg, softly. " A fine old — or as I should say," continued she, checking herself, "middle-aged warrior. He's been I don't know where, and fought I don't know who; but if you could only spare the time and hear him talk, you'd say music was nothing to it." THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 181 '' Hah ! " sighed the guard, gloomily, *' time wasn't made for such as we. The boot's on the other leg. We're made for time, and we must keep it, too. No\\ Jonathan, my Jerry-go- n imble ! Take the ribbons, up you go, and set 'em moving." " Since you put a kind of amendment to my toast," said the coachman, addressing the corporal at a distance, and holding out his glass, " perhaps you'll take a sip with me before I'm off, mate." '* We're not blessed with a superabun- dance of good offers in this world," replied the old soldier, rising from his position of perfect ease, and coming forward. " Truer words were never spoken, mate," rejoined Jonathan, who in personal ap- pearance bore a striking resemblance to his companion the guard; "and when we do catch one, we should put as much store by it as a pearl dropped in a hail-storm." 182 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " Right," added the corporal; and as he delivered the monosyllable he received the proffered glass from the coachman's hand, and, to the infinite surprise of the by- standers, drained it to the last drop. '' There must be," continued he, with great gravity, at the finish of his draught, " no heeltaps where the King's concerned." " Well ! " returned the coachman, rolling his head from side to side, while the guard administered a few playful digs in his ribs, and appeared on the point of making every button fly from his garments with the excess of mirth at seeing his friend " sold," as he called it, *' I shan't forget that for the time to come." " It's a way we have in the arm}^-," added the old soldier. "We always drink the King," and he brought a hand respectfully to his forehead, "in bumpers." ^' He'll put it down in his memorandum THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 183 book," croaked the guard, still greatly over- come by his convulsive merriment. " I know Jonathan won't let that slip from his recollection any more. But here, lad," con- tinued he, " here's enough for both. You shan't climb into the box again without drinking the King," and then he rolled about with his fingers pressed upon his abdominal regions, as if his cachinnatory pleasure was not unattended with pain. Corporal Crump, however, came to the rescue, and declared that there should be an end to a joke, as to all other games, when played out; and he ordered the coachman's glass to be forthwith replenished at his own expense, and his Majesty was pledged with due honour, and hearty grasps were ex- changed, and good humour reigned para- mount, as the guard announced, after studying the face of a thick plethoric watch, which he tugged with the greatest difficulty 184 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. from a fob, the impossibility of their staying the hundredth part of a second longer. With a nimbleness, which at a glance they appeared incapable of exhibiting, both now hurried away to mount their respective seats. "Hold fast; let go their heads," hallooed Jonathan. Twang, twang, twa-a-ang went the horn, and with a plunge, the high-mettled cattle sprang forward on their stage, like fleet- pinioned birds of the night. 185 CHAPTER XIIL As soon as the mail had become lost both to sight and hearing, the wearer of the drab coat, after taking a friendly leave of Jonathan and the guard, quitted his station at the doorway of the Harrow and Pitch- fork, and presented himself at the bar. '' Why," said he, " you've been pretty merry here, I've a notion, if laughin's any sign; although," continued he, taking off his hat, and shaking the -wet from it, " I've heerd of folk's laughin' loudest Avhen most miserable." 186 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " That was not our case, Mr. Burly,' replied the widow, "I'm glad to say; but pray come to the tire, Sir; you look too moist to be comfortable." " But not a likely one to melt, Ma'am," rejoined Mr. Burly, making a successful struggle to free himself from his drab coat. " James Burly, so described in the register of his baptism, given unto the same by his godfathers and godmothers, but better known in these heathenish parts as Burly James, isn't one likely to melt. Ma'am, I should say, unless, indeed, he was duly trussed and spitted before a roasting fire. In that case," continued he, ^' I shouldn't be surprised but the blessed old Christian's remainders miofht be found in the drippin'-pan." *' Reely," returned the widow, raising the corner of her neat black silk apron to her eyes, and shaking like a lively jelly iish, THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 187 " my customers are too much for me to- night. I'm laughing beyond my strength." " Don't give way to weakness, Ma'am," added Burly James, stretching himself in the act of suspending his hat and coat on a high peg in the passage. " I've known some folks, particularly stout 'uns, give way to frightful weaknesses when laughing beyond their strength." Mr. Burly was now ushered through the bar into the parlour, and the formal cere- mony of introduction took place between himself and the corporal. "Glad to make your acquaintance," said the old soldier, giving the stranger a pro- fessional salute. "The same to you. Sir, and many of them," responded Burly James, bowing as a cod-fish might be supposed to do ; being, like that finny denizen of the deep, devoid of any intermediate space between his head 188 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. and his shoulders. " The same to you, Sir,'' repep-ted he, slowly dropping himself into a seat opposite the corporars, " and many of them." To say that Mr. Burly was fat, stout, full-habited, or indeed, to apply any con- ventional term, generally used as an anti- thesis to a light and airy form, would in no way serve as a faithful description of his particular mould. To use his own words, *'he was all muscle." It was an often- vaunted boast of Burly James, that he could crack a walnut between the calves of his legs, which resembled a pair of small oyster barrels, bend a kitchen poker over the biceps of his arras, and carry the cook, who weighed not an ounce less than seven- teen stones, two miles and a half, with per- fect ease to himself and comfort to her. Athletic, however, as James Burly doubtlessly was, not the weakest of his THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 189 kind ever felt less disposed to exercise the powers of bone, tliew, and sinew in a pug- nacious or hostile spirit, than himself. As he frequently observed, " he would much prefer walking a mile than fighting a minute : " and yet no sooner did he become introduced to a stranger, than he seemed to consider it indispensable to impress upon the mind of that stranger — " that he was all muscle." "Feel that. Sir," said Mr. Burly, bend- ing up his dexter arm at a right angle, and developing a hard, impenetrable knot. " What do you say to that, Sir? " " Strong," replied Corporal Crump, squeezing the limb, "very strong." "Straight from the shoulder, and de- livered with a will," rejoined Burly James, making a playful blow in the air, "and I wonder where a hooked nose would be?" 190 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. *' Flat," returned the corporal, "or I'm greatly mistaken." "Flat," repeated Mr. Burly, "as a muffin : but don't you run away with the i-deea that I'm a fightin' man. By no means. I love my neighbour as myself, and would as soon think of bunging up my own eyes, or a givin' my own figure-head an upper-cut on the nut-crackers, as his'n. At the same time," continued he, stretching out his legs, "feel those." The corporal good-naturedly conformed to this desire, and again said, " Strong, very strong." " Lor' love ye! " ejaculated Burly James, jumping up, and hitting himself a sonorous thwack with a clenched fist on his breast; " I'm sound wind and limb, and as hard as a horsebean. There's no thin' doughy. Sir, about me." Without exactly perceiving the end to THE BELLE OF THE \ILLAGE. 191 which this personal matter of discussion was to lead, Corporal Crump gave a willing assent to the proposition, and Mr. Burly, apparently satisfied with having carried his point, quietly took his chair again, and called for ''a stoop of the widow's s6>oper- lative." " I suppose," said Burly James, '' that you're acquainted before now with the widow's own S6>6>perlative?" The corporal conjectured that he al- luded to the regular old scratch-me-down. "The same," rejoined Mr. Burly, "the very same identical. Better was never brewed from malt and hops, as I'm open any day to swear before a justice o' the peace." The capacious measure was now brought forth from the tap, from which the smiling Mistress Twigg had foamed it with a white diadem to the rim. 192 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. There are pleasures too deep for utter- ance, and it may fairly be supposed that Mr. Burly' s was of this ilk ; for as he took the brown jug from the hands of the hostess, he at once became as mute as a mole, and, with features creaming with inward satisfaction, raised it to his lips, and for a time retired from the world. To lose an opportunity is to be prodigal of time, and therefore, the present shall be embraced, as apparently the most season- able one, to complete the sketch of Burly James's exterior. Of rather under the middle height, his thick- set form gave him the squareness of a die, and his body being considerably longer in proportion to his legs, caused him to sit almost as high as he stood. His head, round as a marble, was covered with a thick, short crop of black hair, which stood on end '' like quills upon the fretful por- THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 193 cupine ; " and his fat, red, chubby counte- nance brought forcibly to mind that of a good-tempered fat boy's, out for a holiday. Sleek, shiny, and red. Burly James looked the very pink of health and good temper, and the only marks or wrinkles in his fea- tures were a few indented lines about the neighbourhood of his eyes, which looked to have been scored by " loving laughter," rather than by the crow's foot of age or care. There was nothing strikingly peculiar in Mr. Burly's costume, excepting, perhaps, the waistcoat. A prodigious garment was this waistcoat, and looked as if originally designed for a giant of extraordinary stature. It reached an inch or two below the wearer's knees, had great pockets and large flaps in, and under which Burly James buried his hands, when at a loss what to do with those useful members of VOL. I. 194 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. his frame. A white cravat was supposed to be twisted round where his neck ought to have been ; but the double-chin of which he was possessed left not a vestige of it visible, and a square bow in front, tied with the nicest care, lent the only support to this supposition. Mr^ Burly, perchance, was an admirer of contrast ; for the coat which he wore was as short in the skirt as his waistcoat was long, and being rounded off at the cor- ners, ^ave to view a certain width and rotundity of form, which, otherwise, might have been concealed to some trifling advan- tage. " Hah ! " gasped he, upon the conclusion of a draught which, from his deep mul- berry complexion, appeared forced from a total loss of breath, " I wish 1 had a neck as long as a heron's, and every inch a palate, when I lap the widow's own -sooperlative. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 195 I do indeed," continued Burly James, " upon the soul of a Briton." Mistress Twigg now drew a chair not far removed from Corporal Crump's, and ob- serving, " that she did not expect many more customers would drop in on such a stormy night," proceeded to dispense her smiles and attentions, although truth de- mands it to be declared not in equal divi- sions, between the old soldier and Mr. Burly. " It is not a little strange," remarked the widow, and the gay ribbons in her cap fluttered as she spoke, " that you two gentlemen have never met before. It has so happened," continued she, letting the corporal see, if he thought proper, that she still was in possession of a fine set of teeth, " that when one has come in, the other's just gone out, and when the other's gone out, the other's just come in. Fate," said o 2 196 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. the widow, rocking a crossed foot with a rapid movement, so that the most careless observer could scarcely fail to have seen that, for a woman on an extensive scale, it was remarkably small and neat; ^'fate; there's fate in a sparrow's fall." " No doubt o' that, Marm," replied the corporal, settling himself in his seat as if he were about saying something which he ex- pected to be listened to. " If the greatest actions of the greatest men, living or dead, were but traced to their true source, it's my o-pinion, Marm — the o -pinion of an old soldier — mind ye, that they'd look as if seen all at once through the wrong end of the glass. It's human natur, d'ye see, to praise success and to run down defeat; but — save us all! — the luck which wins the game is often no more due to the player's skill, than the loss, frequently, to his want of it. Fate," exclaimed Corporal Crump TH£ BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 197 with histrionic effect, " there's fate in the blowing of a feather ! " The hostess gave a sidelong glance at Mr. Barly's countenance, to learn what im- pression had been made on that individual's mind by the corporal's eloquence, and was not a little pleased to perceive that his pale sea-green eyes were blinklessly fixed with unmistakeable attention. " I've heerd that you had the gift o' the gab," returned Mr. Burly, " and now I know it. I say. Sir, now I know it," repeated he, and he again retired from the world by burying himself in the yawning mouth of the capacious brown jug. Upon emerging again from its depths, the loss of breath was more palpable than before, and the apoplectic hue of his coun- tenance heightened to almost an alarming extent. " Like the man with the steam leg," said 198 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Burly James upon recovering from some of his pressing difficulties, " I can't leave off when once set a-movin'. The widow's s6)operlative is to me what sugar is to flies. But," continued he, " goin' from beer to poetry, what I was a-goin' to observe was, some folks can speak their sentiments, while others can think 'em. Now, I'm one of the latter saints. I can't say a deal ; it doesn't lie in my small-clothes to speak upon any matter worth listening to. But if it did, if I could only give rope to what I think now and then — " Mr. Burly, raising his voice, appeared worked up to a point and, bring- ing a hand with unnecessary violence upon one of his unoffending calves as it rested peacefully across a knee, ejaculated, " hang my buttons !" Mistress Twigg nodded slightly to the corporal as much as to say that she fully coincided in this self-laudatory opinion of THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 199 Mr. Burly concerning his powers of reflec- tion ; but ventured no observation upon the subject. "I once waleted a gentleman," said Mr. Burly, who, notwithstanding his avowed want of the accomplishments of speech, appeared disposed to let no long pause intervene without exercising those he possessed, " and in that situation I improved both in mind and manners; but I never could catch master's flow o' the gab. It was altogether beyond my reach." *' May I ask, without offence," observed Corporal Crump, ^'what's your present calling, provided you haven't retired on your fortune ? " " And in no ways likely thereto," replied Burly James, " worse luck. But as there's no myste^-rious proceedin's about me, Mr. Corporal, I beg to inform you, Sir, that for want of a more agreeable employment, I'm 200 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. in the service of Squire Woodbee of the Oaks up there," continued he, pointing in the direction of the mansion. "Oh, indeed ! " rejoined the corporal, " I was not aware that I was speaking to one of that gentleman's establishment.'^ " Well 1 " returned Mr. Burly, but he spoke as if a doubt hung in his words, " I suppose, as the world wags, he may be called a gentleman. He's got money, and that's qualifications enough for the title now o' days ; but he's not of the breed that I waleted, Mr. Corporal. By no means. He was a gentleman, he was, and when I took him by the nose to shave him of a mornin', I felt as if I was takin' a liberty. But now mark the difference between my feelin's then and at the present. I'm coach- man to Squire Woodbee, and when he occasionally sits with his face to my back, I consider that he's in possession of a prospect. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 201 Sir, which ought to refresh his eye-sight. These are my sentiments, and I defy mortal man, or his immortal enemy the devil, to turn 'em the span of a barleycorn, right or left." '' The neighbourhood is not improved by the new family," sighed the hostess of the Harrow and Pitchfork. " New family ! " repeated Burly James with a sneer which seemed to be double- edged, and whetted to the keenest edge. " Whoever heard, Ma'am, of anything new- doing good? Give me," continued he with enthusiasm, "' everything that's old. Old friends, old ale, old wood to burn, old songs to sing, old tales to tell, old times, old trees ; let's have nothin' young but women ! " " Gently, comrade," remarked Corporal Crump, by way of a sedative to Mr. Burly 's mounting excitement; *' gently does it! " " Istandco-rected, Mr. Corporal," rejoined 202 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Burly James. ^' We sometimes break in our paces like high-trotting horses, and want a steady hand to make us go straight and true." "And yet," said Mistress Twigg, with inward admiration of Corporal Crump's delicate check, " the lady and Master Wood- bee are a dear, sweet mother and child." "No one can gainsay that, Ma'am," re- plied Mr. Burly. "Poor broken-down young sperrets," continued he, " I feel for 'em more with a parent's tender buzzum than a coachman's. There was a time, and not long since neither, when they looked happy enough together ; but now they pine and are as sorrowful as a pair of separated pigeons." " How's that? " briefly asked the corporal. " Master Leonard's a-goin' to be made a great scholard of, I believe," responded Mr. Burly ; " and a greyhound-looking chap, THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 203 called Starkie, keeps him pounding away at his dreary books with a sort of savage pleasure, in my opinion, in making the pretty, pale-faced boy as miserable as he can." " I wish I was lady manager at the Oaks for a few weeks, say a month," rejoined Mis- tress Twigg, with an air of determination which almost startled Corporal Crump, "and I'd let them see if they should serve a child of mine like that. Books are well enough in their way," continued she. " I am not going to speak against books; but let them make a pretty, pale-faced boy of mine miserable, that's all 1 " and the widow's eyes sparkled at that moment as if mentally occupied in committing a valuable library to the flames. " You've a sperret, Ma'am,'* returned Mr. Burly, " and sperret often flies over obstacles which, with others of a tamer nature, brings 204 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. them down on their knees and noses. Now, my missis, poor dear lady ! " continued he, with a compassionate movement of his head, " is amazingly tame. She may have had a will of her own, like the rest of her sex, long ago; but if so. Ma'am, it's gone, gone before her youth and beauty/' " Ah ! " exclaimed Mistress Twigg, "if I had the making of laws, instead of those saps in the House of Commons, I'd soon pass one to stop elderly gents from taking young inexperienced wives to their bosoms. Talk of an old man's darling, indeed ! " said the widow, with bitter irony. "An old man's baby is what they become, with no more freedom of speech or motion of body, than one in swaddling clothes. I wouldn't make it a penal offence for a respectable, healthy, clean old gentleman, with a white waistcoat, to take a partner for the few remaining years he has to live; but let that THE HELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 205 partner be a woman a match for him in all respects," and Mistress Twigg drew her breath between her teeth, as if her last words comprehended more than they would appear to express. "I'm quite of your opinion, Ma'am," observed Corporal Crump. " People when they marry, ought to be matched as well as paired. But from what you have said," con- tinued he, turning to Mr. Burly, " I suppose the Squire's lady is far from being happy." "Happy! " repeated Burly James. " Can a frog be happy under a harrow ? Can a goose be happy when being plucked alive? Can a moth be happy when its wings are singed off ? " "But why, then, did she marry him?" asked the corporal. " Ha ! " ejaculated Mr. Burly. " There's a tale to that, depend on't, although it never came to my ears." 206 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. The hours were far advanced before the small coterie separated ; and as Burly James clutched the corporal's hand, and swore eternal friendship on the threshold of the outer door, he appeared in need of a little steadying, like a butt after losing its equi- librium. " Good-ite-corpl^^' said he in a strangely thick tone. '^ Stick to the widder, Sir, and, and, and taking the probabilities into account, she'll stick to you. There's nothin' like her soo — soo — sooperl'tiv', as I'm open any day to swear before a justice of the peace." 20' CHAPTER XIV- The skill of Dr. Grimes seemed to be put at defiance by the low intermitting fever which his interesting patient laboured under from the day that his attendance was re- quired. The apothecary prescribed the best remedies that could be drawn from his knowledge and experience, and among them was a strict injunction that she should be kept as quiet as possible. " In these cases of physical prostration," said Dr. Grimes to Jacob, who made it a point to waylay him daily as he quitted the 208 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. chamber of sickness, " accompanied as they invariably are by general excitement of the frame, we can do little more than assist our best nurse Nature by the simplest of means. Repose may be classed among the first ; and if you, my dear Sir, will attend to this, I shall exercise my best endeavours to supply the rest." *' If a mouse but nibbles in the wainscot," replied the little general shopkeeper, reso- lutely, ^' ril put it to flight." " And it would be as well," rejoined Dr. Grimes, " to draw that picture of a child out of the room as much as possible, and for her to be persuaded to remain out a much longer period than she usually does. The mother's anxiety is evidently great about the child, and the child sits, with her large eyes filled with tears, looking at the mother in a way which cannot fail to produce a most unfavourable action on the nervous THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 209 systems of both. This, my dear Sir," con- tinued he, shaking his head as became a medical practitioner, " is bad, radically bad, and, to use strong language, must not be. We do not make the progress which I hoped and, indeed, expected; for what we gain one day appears to be lost the next." " A step forward and a step backward,'^ eh Doctor?" returned Jacob, despondingly. " Precisely so, my dear Sir," added Doctor Grimes, " and nothing can be more unsatisfactory than such a stand-still pro- ceeding. Now I would suggest that little Clara, as she is familiarly called by her best friends, should accompany me in my rounds to my patients this morning. There's quite a fund of amusement for her. In the first place, I have to extract a double tooth from the upper jaw of as unruly a boy as I ever saw in my life. Then there's poor old Keeble's compound fracture of his right leg VOL. T. p 210 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE- to reduce, and Jane Fubbs's child to vacci- nate. Poor Mrs. Brown is still too full, much too full," continued the doctor, reflectively, " and must be copiously bled. In the almshouses there are a few blisters to dress ; and with one thing or another, my dear Sir, I feel sure that the morning would pass pleasantly enough." '' A run in the fields with the corporal," said Jacob, '^ will please her more, I think, Doctor." " But can she be induced to go into the fields with the corporal?" asked Doctor Grimes. " That's the question, my very dear Sir. I never either see or hear of her quitting her mother's side ; and really it has become indispensable that she should do so. I say indispensable," said the doctor, forcibly, " from the fact that I cannot answer for the consequences unless she does." " Little Clara only requires to be told so," THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 211 replied Jacob, " and she will conform with- out a murmur." "In that case," returned the doctor, "let the information be given without delay, and upon my next visit I shall hope to see an amendment in my patient." With a promise that his instructions should be obeyed with the utmost strict- ness, Doctor Grimes took his departure, and, as was his wont, bowed himself out with the utmost politeness. It was evening, and in bygone times the curfew would have tolled from that old church tower whose vane was tipped with the golden tints of the setting sun. Long faint shadows were streaked upon the earth, and the thin white mist began to roll along the valley, like a bridal veil spun by fairy hands. Shard-borne beetles hummed drowsily through the air, and the churr of the goat- p2 212 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. sucker heralded the reign of coming darkness. On the bank of an artificial lake, formed between two gentle declivities in the park surrounding the Oaks, and little short of half a mile from the mansion, Mrs, Woodbee and her son were strolling, as if unconscious or heedless of the closing hours of day. With one of her hands clasped in his, the boy occasionally turned his pale, care-worn face upwards, and met the kind, solicitous look bent upon him with a smile which seemed but too great a stranger there. Long and silent had been their walk, and the moon^s pale ray already broke in silvery lines upon the rippling wave, and the cool, refreshing breeze toyed among the child's curls as they danced like the tendrils of a vine upon his shoulders. Now and then the spring of a fish leaping from the mirror- like surface of the lake, flashed upon the ear, and broke the water into wide-spreading THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 213 eddies, which went circling on until they were lost in space. ^^Shall we return now?" at length said Mrs. Woodbee. " It is getting late, and I fear you may take cold, dear boy." •" Not yet," replied Leonard, shuddering; " don't go back yet. My temples burn, and my head aches at the thought of going home. Let us stay here a little longer. I wish," continued he, with heart-felt sorrow in the tone, " that it could be for ever." " Nay, nay, love," rejoined his mother, affecting a cheerfulness which ill accorded with her feelings. " We are not bats or owls to wander throughout the night, and I think, long before it was spent, you would be desirous for your little bed." " I dream so frightfully," returned Leonard, " that I never wish to sleep. There was a time, and not long since," con- tinued he, " when I dreamt of rambles such 214 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. as these, with you, dear mother, and romps with Blackthorn; and the birds seemed to be singing, and the flowers looked as bright as in the sunshine, and I awoke happier than I can tell.'* " And so you will again, dear boy," added Mrs. Woodbee, scarcely able to control her feelings. "' It is but temporary indisposition." *^ Mother," said the child, in such an earnest tone and manner that his companion stopped involuntarily to gaze upon him. " I shall never be well again." " God in his mercy forbid ! " ejaculated she, catching him to her breast. " Say not so, my pretty lad," continued she, while the tears streamed down her cheeks. "And still I think so," responded he. *' My father and tutor tell me that I am obstinate, inattentive, and indolent; but it is not so, mother dear. Indeed I would /earn if I could ! " THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 215 " 'Tis as cruel as 'tis unjust," rejoined Mrs. Woodbee, in a voice quivering with emotion, " not to believe you. They must, they shall cease their persecution. And yet," continued she, raising her hands supplicatingly," what can I do?" Scarcely had she spoken, when two figures were seen approaching through the dusky light, and immediately afterwards, greatly to her and Leonard's astonishment, the stiff, drawn-up form of a man, to whose side a girl with a gipsy hat and flowing ringlets appeared to cling with fear, stood before them. "Your pardon, my Lady," said the former, placing a hand to his forehead, and keeping it there ; " but I think we are out of our latitude." "May I ask," replied Mrs. Woodbee, " who is speaking to me?" " My military rank, my Lady, is that of a 216 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. retired corporal," rejoined he, "and my name^s Crump/' "A stranger here, I suppose?'' returned Mrs. Woodbee. "Not exactly so," said the corporal, " and not altogether the reverse. We, that is to say," continued he, pointing to Clara, who stood shyly by, glancing at Leonard and his mother, " this young lady, her female parent, and your humble servant to command. Ma'am, have been quartered in these parts for some little time now, but not long enough, it would appear, to know the latitude of 'em." " If I understand you then," added Mrs. Woodbee, " you have lost your path." " You couldn't be more correct, Ma'am," responded the corporal, " had you been told so in plain English. We came out for a mouthful of fresh air — a pipe opener, as I call it — this evening, and, somehow or THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 217 other, did not follow our noses. The con- sequence is that here we are in a wrong path, leading we don't know where; but like a great many more duck-headed folk that I have met with in the highways and bye- ways of life, rushing on notwithstan- ding." "Are you a soldier?" asked Leonard, who had kept his eyes stedfastly fixed upon the corporal with the deepest interest from the moment he avowed the nature of his calling. " Ay, my young master," replied Corporal Crump, heartily, " and one who has seen some service." " You could then tell me of battles," rejoined the boy, earnestly, " could you not?" " Of many a one," said the corporal, " both lost and won." "And will you do so?" asked T^eonard, 218 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. going closer to him, and inserting a small delicate hand into one of the old soldier's broad, horny palms. " I love so to listen to such stories." Well, well, Sir ! " responded the corporal, " we may meet again, perhaps, at an earlier hour in the day, and then we'll see what can be rummaged from the knapsack of memory." " And may I inquire the name of this pretty little girl?" observed Mrs. Woodbee, stooping and kissing Clara's brow. Clara's cheeks mantled with blushes, and the words which rose upon her lips in reply died upon them. '^ She's not been accustomed to strangers, my Lady," remarked the corporal, *' and is much too bashful to show to any advantage before 'em ; but I hope that time and drill will, in due course, make an alteration for the better. As I must take upon myseH THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 219 the office of spokesman," continued he, " her name's Clara Somerset." "Clara Somerset ! " repeated Mrs. Woodbee, with little less surprise than if a thunder- bolt had fallen at her feet. " Clara Somer- set, did you say?" Not, not" — " Daughter of the late Lieutenant Somer- set of the King's Own Royals," added Corporal Crump. " Now Heaven help me ! " exclaimed Mrs. Woodbee, catching Clara in her arms, and smothering her with kisses. " Is this dear Ellen's child? Tell me," she continued, almost frantically, "is this so, or do I dream?" " You ray-ther bewilder me. Ma'am," said Corporal Crump, feeling, among the very few times in his life, considerably astonished, " but what I have told you is the truth, and nothing but the truth." " And where, where is your mamma. 220 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. dear one?" said Mrs. Woodbee, kneeling on the greensward, and clasping Clara tightly in her arms. " In the village," replied Clara, timidly, as well as her surprise would permit, " very iU." " Very ill!" ejaculated Mrs. Woodbee, as a cry of anguish escaped her lips. " But somewhat improved, my Lady, added the corporal, " since our arrival here ; " for he saw how much these words pained her. " And when was that?" " Some six weeks ago." " How inscrutable are the ways of Provi- dence!" returned Mrs. Woodbee, and then her full heart could hold no more, and she wept long and bitterly. "Why do you cry, Mamma," asked Leonard, " and who are these that you love so much?" THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 221 " Ask me not now, dear boy," replied his mother, " you shall learn all another time; but let me see you kiss this little girl," continued she, " for I'm sure you'll love one another." With some degree of coyness, Clara pre- sented her peach-like cheek for Leonard's salute ; but was dumbfounded at the scene taking place before her. " Not a minute longer must be lost," said Mrs. Woodbee, starting to her feet, and hastily drying her tears. " This path," continued she, "will take us to the village in less than ten minutes' walk. Come, we will go together to your mamma, dear, dear Clara." 222 CHAPTER XV. Yeaes, long years had passed, and thus they met again ; but words could not con- vey the feelings of the sisters as, locked in each other's arms, they pressed breast to breast, and heart to heart. Their lips were silent, and yet a tale was told, a tale of change and suffering, which time and sorrow bring like sneaping frosts. They had been girls together, long, long ago, and yet memory brought back the time, as memory only can, of those happy hours when neither thought of the THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 223 cares of life, and knew only of its joys. And yet it seemed but yesterday. After a thousand questions had been asked, and endearments exchanged, Mrs. Woodbee at length said, " How could you keep it a secret from me, Ellen? Why not let me know the day, the hour that you arrived?" The invalid smiled faintly at the reproof, and seeing that both Leonard and Clara were standing by, eagerly listening to each word that fell, observed, "I wish, dear children, that you would seek the corporal in the room below, and leave us alone for a few minutes. You will find him," conti- nued she, addressing Leonard, " a kind, good old man, full of martial stories, and as ready to tell them, as you doubtlessly will be to listen to the marvels." With manifest reluctance, tl^e children quitted the apartment ; for their curiosity 224 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. was excited, and each wished for a solution of the impenetrable mystery which sur- rounded them. "You must not chide me, Alice," said Mrs. Somerset, drawing gently from her sister's embrace, and looking fondly at her through her tears, " for not apprising you of being near to one I love so well, and permitting accident to make the discovery. Being incapable of writing, dearest, whom could I trust?" *'I thought from your letters," replied her sister, " that you possessed the greatest reliance in your old servant, whom you have just spoken of so commendably.'* " He is, indeed, worthy of all that I have said, andmore,'* rejoined Mrs. Somerset; "but I have never trusted even him with our secret." " Then how long would you have kept me in ignorance of your being here ? " asked her sister. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 225 " Not an hour longer," returned Mrs. Somerset, " than I could have written and arranged for a note to fall into your hands, dearest. A message,^' continued she, might have been fraught with the greatest dangers, as your husband — " ''Ay, I see it all," added Mrs. Woodbee, holding her hands before her face; "it was the dread of him; and well indeed might you fear, Ellen; for such is his rancour even to the present hour, that did he but learn of our meeting here to-night, it would most assuredly be the last for years, and it might be that we should never meet again." " May God forgive him ! " exclaimed the invalid, supplicatingly, " as I do." " Although subterfuge in any shape is most repelling," continued Mrs. Woodbee, "I think it will be necessary to prevent our children from learning immediately the VOL. I. * Q 226 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. relationship which exists between them. At so early an age, we cannot rely upon their prudence, and it is but natural that they should speak of subjects to others, as they feel them most interesting to themselves." '' We will then, Alice, only be," said Mrs. Somerset, smiling, " what in truth we are, old, long- tried friends, who have not met since we were merry, careless girls." The sisters again embraced each other, and gave full scope to that affection which, not of the earth, binds heart to heart, and is the purest of human love. "Had it been thought of earlier," observed Mrs. Wood bee, " it might have been safer for you to have changed your name." "In that case," responded her sister, ''' suspicions, or conjectures must have arisen for my so doing," THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 227 " True/' returned Mrs. Woodbee, " I had forgotten that. However," continued she, " there is not a likelihood of its reaching my husband's ears; for he exchanges but few words with any one in the neighbour- hood from year's end to year's end, and is absorbed in the one nurtured hope of seeing little Leonard a great and learned man." " Still the same," added Mrs. Somerset. " Some loved project of selfish — " " Stay, stay," interrupted her sister. " Remember, that whatever he may be, he is still my husband, and the father of my child." " And were his faults ten-fold greater than they are, dear Alice," rejoined Mrs. Somerset, "that thought alone would silence me." " We will not dwell on this subject," . responded Mrs. Woodbee, " but turn to Q 2 228 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Others upon which we can speak with less restraint." " As you say, so let it be," said her sister. " I would not have one named to- night that should rob a moment of its pleasure." " And yet by that pale cheek," remarked Mrs. Woodbee, " I see there must be limits , to what can be spoken now. You are still unequal to much exertion, Ellen." " But more than equal to listen to that loved voice," replied her sister. " It bears me back to other daj^s," continued she, " and makes me think we are children now." "And if stem Time would point that this was of the past," rejoined Mrs. Wood- bee, cheerfully "we will still use our best endeavours to deceive th6 monitor. As soon as your strength's regained, we will climb the hills together, as we did in years THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 229 remembered, but passed away, and be one to another what we have been." " To me/' added Mrs. Somerset, ^* there could be no earthly joy equal to it. Alice, that I could think it possible for such days to come again ! " "And why not?" "Why not?" repeated the invalid, and then, after a moment's reflection, added in a low melancholy voice, " because they have gone, never to return." At this juncture there was a light aerial knock at the door of the apartment, and to the permission being given for it to be opened, Jacob Giles presented himself to view, slightly rubbing the ends of his fingers, and looking somewhat aghast at his exposed position. " Your parding, Mem," said the little general shopkeeper, bearing self- evidence of great confusion within, ^' and your parding 230 THE BELLE OE THE VILLAGE. Mem," continued he, bending his pink scalp to the ladies respectively, and between them conjointly, in order that both might be hit by his well-directed double barrel of polite- ness, " but I was given to understand from below that I was wanted above." " Although no positive intimation has been given to that effect," replied Mrs. Somerset, with a smile, " yet I am glad to have the opportunity of introducing to you, Alice, one of my most invaluable friends, Mr. Jacob Giles." " We are not strangers to each other," rejoined her sister, " and I beg to offer my warmest thanks," continued she, addressing the little general shopkeeper, " for your attention, kindness, and hospitality to this my best and dearest friend." '^ Mem ! " exclaimed Jacob, " don't mention that, Mem. I'm too proud, too rejoiced, so to speak, of the opportunity of THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 231 performing a small service, if so be it can be considered as such." " Indeed, a greater could scarcely be rendered to me/' said Mrs. Somerset, ''and 1 shall ever feel grateful for it." "All I can say is, Mem," returned Jacob, " that if you're disposed to be pleased with me for anything I may be supposed to have done, '' you'll o-bleege me particularly by not mentioning one word about it. My snuggery, Mem, and an3^thing that the general shop contains, is at your service, morning, noon, and night; now, henceforth, and for ever more.'^ " Until better able to bear fatigue," added Mrs. Woodbee, " I think it better, Ellen, for you to remain here." " And when able, Mem," said Jacob, with the politeness of a courtier, " I hope that I shall not then lose my lady lodgers. I was a lone individual, Mem," continued he, 232 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " before you dropped, as it were, under my roof, and since then, what with the corporal's stories of an evening, rambles in the fields, now and then, with Miss Clara, consultations with Doctor Grimes, superin- tending Bridget in manufacturing the gruel, and, the other little light occupations, really the time passes with a freshness amounting to perfect enjoyment/' After receiving an assurance that no likelihood existed of any immediate inter- ruption to the little general shopkeeper's bea- titude, he inquired, as if from habit, " What was the next article?" made a short bow in correction of the mistake, and dived, with a blushing countenance, among his sugars, teas, coffees, and multifarious articles of commerce, in his emporium below^ 233 CHAPTER XVI. Bridget, in whose person the respective denominations of the entire category of female domestics was centred, has hitherto escaped description, and yet, if for the mere purpose of showing Corporal Crump's extraordinary powers of subduing an un- ruly, perverse, and arbitrary spirit, Bridget must not be allowed to pass like a shadow at eventide. She was one of those remnants of other days, which it is difficult for the imagination to conceive was ever otherwise than crooked 234 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. in the spine, stiff jointed, and rheumatic. The highest flight of fancy could scarcely draw a picture of Bridget's infancy. Lank- jawed, thin, and wrinkled, with a skin like parchment or old wax, she shuffled about in large thick shoes, wldch slipped from her heels at every step, and brought to mind a couple of canoes. Her toothless and sunken jaws brought the tip of her nose in close proximity to the end of her chin, and her bleared grey eyes were buried behind fringes of strong wiry bristles which sprouted from her brows like ill- weeds which had grown apace. Devoid as Bridget's costume doubtless was of the smallest approach or claim to elegance, it at least possessed a powerful one in support of its simplicity. A blue checked kind of sack or bag, fastened round the throat with a large horn button behind, hung somewhat scantily about her person, THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 235 and a snowy white apron girdling her waist, made a division or boundary line in a figure as flat and undeveloped at all points as a schoolboy's slate. A mob cap with a heavy curtain, not dissimilar to the valance of a bed tester, flapped across her features, and added to the fancy portrait of the celebrated old woman who lived in her shoe, or any of the same family mounting brooms, and in the strict confidence of fate and futurity. The earlier history of Bridget is lost in the vortex of time, and her origin a mystery ; but for many years she had held a kind of despotic sway in Jacob's household which the little general shop- keeper had not the spirit to resist. In possession of a convenient hardness of hearing, Bridget made a rule to listen to no order or directions, but what coincided exactly with her inclination to fulfil, and 236 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. was alike indifferent to praise, as stoically deaf to censure. Like the compass, in spite of turning, twisting, or shaking, she pointed but one way, and that washer own. As may be anticipated, the arrival of the strangers within that territorial do- main which she had hitherto regarded as tabooed from the presence of maid, wife, or widow, was exceedingly objectionable to Bridget, and she made no concealment of her feelings. Indeed, from the moment of discovering that Mrs. Somerset, Clara, and the corporal, were to become residents in that domicile which she looked upon as her own, her indignation was not confined to a silent expression, and she forthwith opened a battery of annoyances of great force and considerable effect. The kitchen fire was always out when required to be in, and could not be made to burn when most wanted. Saucepans THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 237 and kettles clattered from their shelves at all hours of the day. The warming pan continually fell from the top of the stairs to the bottom in the still hour of night. If the corporal's linen was undergoing the simple process of airing, it was sure to fall against the bars of the grate, or the chimney would smoke, or the cat took a strange delight in clawing his shirt among the cinders. The eccentricities of the cat, sin- gular to relate, began to exceed all bounds ; for upon putting his hat on hastily one morning, Corporal Crump found, to his great dismay, that he had taken a shower bath of kittens. All this was very distressing, and the feelings of the little general shop- keeper became painfully excited at the un- intermitting calamities which now rattled like hail upon his house. He was con- tinually expostulating with the uncom- promising Bridget, smoothing the irate 233 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. feelings of the corporal, apologising to his lady lodger, and, in short, maintaining peace upon the most desperate terms. Matters, however, grew daily worse, and at length Jacob Giles began to en- tertain a feeling of despair which creeps into the heart and " steals the life from promise." " Leave her to me, comrade," said the corporal, using his right hand as if in the act of laying on a round dozen upon the back of some imaginary culprit, " leave her to me, comrade," repeated he, " and I'll soon drill her into form." With a few slight misgivings concerning the result of this boast, Jacob abandoned the obdurate Bridget to the ordeal, and the management was duly transferred from his hands to those of the old soldier. Vested with his authority, the corporal resolved to lose no time in wielding it, and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 239 he at once inarched straight to the attack with " his soul in arms, and eager for the fray." It was Saturday night, and the corporal found that Bridget, as usual, had caused sad havoc with that weekly change of under garments which he regarded both as essential and luxurious. The spotless shirt, when suspended before the kitchen fire by his own hands, was all that could be desired for the succeeding day's display ; but during the interval of his doing so and now, a kettle of boiling water had been upset or assisted to fall, and myriads of grimy specks were sprinkled upon its front, as if thrown in profusion from a pepper-box. " Now, Marm," said Corporal Crump, with a savage expression, holding up the soiled garment before Bridget's eyes, as she sat making a fair imitation of a cobweb in the heel of a dilapidated stocking, " isn't this a 240 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. burning shame and a sin of the blackest dye?" Bridget, as before has been remarked, was hard of hearing, and appeared to be as deaf to the question as she was blind to the questioner. With eyes fixed upon her work, she continued to ply her needle deftly, and crooned the snatch of an old ballad with a merry air, if not tuneful voice. " I say, Marm," thundered the corporal, for his temper was in no way improved by Bridget's contemptuous conduct, " do you hear what I say ? " "Eh?" replied she, placing a hand behind an ear, and peeping slyly upwards through her shaggy brows at the old soldier's flushed visage. " Eh? " repeated she. " Did you speak?" ''I did, by Heaven ! " rejoined the corporal, working to a high pitch of fury. "I'm here for the particular purpose of speaking to you. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 241 you old section of the gibbeted ghost of a dead marine ! " *' Eh ! " ejaculated Bridget; but from the startled expression upon her countenance it was obvious that her deafness had met with temporary relief. " Ah ! " returned Corporal Crump, with a crack of his lips, " 1 shall be heard presently, I see — you floor- scrubbing, bed- making, boot-blacking, knife-cleaning, dish- washing, mouldy old land crab ! " *' It's me you're speaking to, is it? " said Bridget, in the shrill, piping tone of ex- asperated rage, as she placed her arms a- kimbo, and wagged her head, "you two yards of pipe-clayed skin, bone, and beggary ! " " Ugh, you crooked, lop-sided, bottomless, ancient virgin ! " retorted the corporal, snapping his fingers. " Ye dirty, foul-mouthed villain! " vol.. T. IJ 242 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. screeched Bridget. '^ Is it me that ye call a vargin? " " If it comes to that," added he, in a subdued tone, but threatening manner, " you're a substantive ! " " A what? " screamed Bridget, " you tar- barrel of Satan's own ! " *' An infamous old participle ! " continued the corporal. " Queen of Heaven ! " exclaimed Bridget, clasping her hands together. " He'll be struck dumb presently.'' " An illegitimate Adverb! " rejoined the corporal. " Bless-ed Saints!" ejaculated Bridget, turning up her eyes. " A nominative case ! " shouted he. " The devil will be here presently ! " cried Bridget, horror-stricken. " Send for the pra'st." "An adjective I " THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE, 243 ^* Sprinkle us with holy water ! " " A miserable conjunction ! '' "Mary, darling, it's me that paid the pra'st ! His rivirence didn't tell lies for me for nothing," sobbed Bridget. " A cross-grained, crumple-nosed, crusty noun ! " Bridget crossed herself devoutl}', but said nothing. " A perpendicular rectangle ! " continued the corporal, for he saw his vantage, and determined to follow it up. Bridget would have spoken, but found the parts of speech too big for utterance. '^ And if," said Corporal Crump, " further particulars are wanted^ smut my Sunday- shirt again ; make a kitten nest of my hat, put pins, needles, salt, chopped hair, and dried thistles in my shake-down ; upset the pots, kettles, and warming pan when I'm asleep; put gunpowder in my 'backy, and r2 244 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. you shall have them, Mistress Bridget, by an earlier post perhaps than you may expect.'' Jacob's housekeeper felt the full effect of the corporal's home-thrust, and, like many similarly- constituted persons, discovered that her secret plans were far more public than she possessed the slightest conception of. The simple fact, perhaps, is scarcely worthy of record ; but the succeeding week Corporal Crump found that his shirt was not only aired without a single mischance to the general getting up, but that it was spread over the back of a chair in his dormitory, with the tail turned up ready to put on. Such is the force of well-timed correction. 245 CHAPTER XVIL Squire Woodbee was partaking of the matin meal commonly known by the name of breakfast. Immediately fronting the all-important, self-sufficient, and grandilo- quent proprietor of the Oaks, sat Mrs. Woodbee, and, but for the intervention of a hissing urn, which sent forth successive clouds of steaming vapour, the Squire might have perceived, notwithstanding the very slight notice he deigned usually to take of his wife's expression of features, that she was sad, and had been weeping. 246 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Between the two, Dr. Starkie might liave been perceived, seemingly engrossed in the act of delicately chipping the shell from an eggy but a keen observer would have dis- covered, from the sidelong glances w^hich he made, occasionally, from the extreme corners of his small, rat-like eyes, upon Mr. and Mrs. Woodbee, that his thoughts were not monopolized in this simple task. The Oxford double-iirst prize-man knew the value of time, and was making the most of the present, with a careful regard for the future. The Squire coughed, not from necessity, but as a sound man coughs when upon the very best terms with himself, and in ex- pectation that these terms will be accepted, acknowledged, and deference paid to them by an appreciating public- " I may be wrong. Doctor," remarked Squire Woodbee, pursing his lips together. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 247 and throwing out the prodigious white waistcoat ; '•' I say I may be wrong,'' repeated he, and then a smile played about the regions of his mouth, as if the probability was at least remote; ''but the first prin- ciples of force in my opinion, is the conden- sation of power." " A mathematical theorem, my dear Sir," replied Dr. Starkie, producing a most palpable parenthesis. "That steam," con- tinued he, pointing to the vapour curling upwards from the urn, " illustrates your proposition. Generating to disseminate itself merely in the air, the force which is its attribute is lost; but condense the power within a finite space, and its might becomes self-evident." " Exactly so," rejoined the Squire, flattered with the doctor's acquiescence, " and it is the want of condensation of power which causes the same waste both of mental and 248 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. physical exertions which we perceive in the generating of that vapour. If we, Sir, having an object to attain, would but con- centrate our energies, and practise a stubborn self-denial towards every temptation or inducement which might turn them from it, success would generally attend the effort. " Philosophical reasoning ! " observed Dr. Starkie, slightly nodding at the ceiUng above his head. "My object," continued the Squire, sen- tentiously, "was money. To make it is easier than to save it ; but the possession is power, and that^ Doctor, was the aim of my condensed energies. It is by no means difficult to crawl through life ; worms and grubs are found on the earth. To soar above it, however, is worthy of the energies of a man," and he tapped the middle button of the white waistcoat significantly — '' is THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 249 worthy," repeated he, and his breast pro- jected like the inflated crop of a pouter pigeon, " of the energies of a man." " It would appear from the researches of political economists," returned the doctor, " that while a nation is given to industrial pursuits — and industrial pursuits are but the means to the end — it is in the gradation of advancement, both social and otherwise ; but the moment these are abandoned for speculative, chimerical, or distracting objects, she is making a retrograde move- ment. Now, a nation is but a family on an extensive scale, and a family is composed of individuals. What, therefore, may be the habits or pursuits of individuals com- prising that nation, in a general point of view, such must be the condition of the commonwealth. Nothing," continued he, "remains stationary. The planets make their evolutions; seasons come and go; 250 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. night succeeds the clay ; death treads on life; the tides ebb and flow, and, as in Nature's universal law of perpetual, un- ceasing change, so it is Avith our artificial disposition of circumstances. Either we are progressing or retrograding." " I have entertained that sentiment from a very early period" added the Squire, '^ and it may be said to have been the pilot which has sat at my helm. To advance, Doctor," said he, with a chuckle, " to jostle and shove the weaker from the front places, and not be over scrupulous in taking them yourself, is one of the best methods of making way in this world. With money there are few obstacles to prevent a man from doing this ; but if he hasn't money he must wheedle. Accident may, now and then, present an opportunity for catching a few stray favours of Fortune; but those worth possessing, are, for the most part, paid for in some THK BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 251 coin or other. Wheedling passes current for lack of the more genuine medium." " Wealth," said Doctor Starkie, '' gives to the possessor a power to command that which may prove, or be thought likely to prove, most gratifying to the senses. As tastes differ, so will the means vary ; but so long as self-esteem, which is a phrenological term for selfishness, be an inherent quality of human nature, so long will flattery, or, as you, my dear Sir, facetiously call it wheedling, be the homage paid by the poor and lowly to the rich and exalted. Life is a game in which he who has little or nothing to lose, seeks to win from his more for- tunate neighbours; and experience, the sternest of monitors, teaches us that no more accessible breach is open in the breast of man than that which may be reached through flattery." "You have studied something more than 252 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Latin and Greek, Doctor/' remarked Squire Woodbee, with a laugh. "A bookworm is but a miser of other men's genius," resumed the doctor, "and I should be most unfitted to hold the plea- surable office of preceptor to your son, had 1 overlooked the most profitable of studies to the man of the world — his fellow- men.'* "Hah!" ejaculated Squire Woodbee; ^^ but in finding out the weak points of our neighbours we are apt to forget our own." " Because there is no looking-glass to reflect the weakest," returned Doctor Starkie, " our vanity. Few but think better of themselves than others, and rare is that man who freely admits the existence of a virtue of which he feels no trace in his own breast." " Stripped of all deceit," added the Squire, THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 253 chuckling, " and the most virtuous deeds would assume but a dusky complexion." " Whatever may have been said or written by moralists," said the doctor, " both the best and the worst actions of which the human mind is capable of conceiving possess a common origin — self-gratification. We frequently," continued he, " are short sighted, and discover that that which we anticipated would contribute to our plea- sures, acts in precisely an opposite direction ; but the animus was indulgence, and to this root may be traced every motive dictating the deeds of men, be they for good or be they for evil." '* According to your code then, Doctor," responded his companion, " both what the world calls good, and that which it desig- nates evil, are alike the offspring of innate selfishness." '' Without a doubt, my dear Sir," rejoined 254 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Doctor Starkie, ''and the best among us would be the most wicked, had not either their hopes or fears been awakened as to the probable result being less favourable to their own individual advantao^e." "Is there no such thing as virtue?'' innocently inquired Mrs. Woodbee. " Oh, yes ! " replied the doctor, drawing back the extreme angles of his mouth. " Virtues, my dear Madam, are not extinct as popular constituent principles of pleasing ourselves." "" Then what is charity, mercy, or repent- ance?" asked Mrs. Woodbee, almost surprised at her boldness of examining the Oxford double-first prize-man. ''Each would, form the subject of a long essay," returned the doctor, with the paren- thesis in a most distinct form, " but charity, my dear Madam, may be defined as liberally giving away that which we do not want, of THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 255 grudgingly what we do ; mercy, as an award of short measure to justice; and repentance, sorrow for the past pleasures of sin." Squire Woodbee felt unusual satisfaction at this reply, and considered the circum- stance most fortuitous in possessing such a tutor for his son. " He will make my boy a man of the world, like himself," said he, inwardly, " and that is the seed for the future's harvest." There were different feelings in the bosom of the mother, and she fervently wished that Doctor Starkie's shadow had never darkened the doorway of the Oaks. 256 CHAPTER XVIIL Like a spring flower gradually developing its shades and colors in the quickening sun, Clara Somerset's charms grew apace, and the child of yesterday began to assume a riper stage. Solicitous, kind, and affec- tionate, she was ever a close attendant upon her mother, who remained flickering in an uncertain, invalid state, and the repeated visits of Dr. Grimes, and the efficacy of his compounds, appeared to fail in producing a more beneficial condition of health in his patient. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 257 By the row of witch elms, however, rear- ing their waving tops not far from the border of the lake where Leonard and Blackthorn used to gambol in bygone times, both Clara and Mrs. Somerset might be often seen sitting on the greensward watch- ing either the leaps of the fish springing at the ephemera, or the fleet-winged swallow dipping his pinions in his flight. It was a quiet, retired spot in which few sounds of the busy world came to break the silence of the scene, and save the wild bee's hum, the grasshopper's chirp, and the hoarse croak of the toad, crouched in his bed of rushes, there was little else to disturb the reign of perfect silence. It was a sultry summer's day, and beneath the cool shade of the adjacent trees, sending their dimpling shade over the bosom of the water, sat Mrs. Somerset and Clara. The former was occupied in perusing a hook, VOL. I. s 258 THE BELLE OF THE ViLLAGE. while the eyes of the latter were earnestly turned towards the Oaks, where its tall crooked chimneys were just visible among the thick foliage which surrounded the old mansion. " How late Leonard is to-day, Mamma,'^ observed she with her red lips verging to that shape commonly known as pouting. "He is generally here much earlier than this." " Perhaps," replied her mother without lifting her eyes from the volume, " his studies detain him longer than usual." " Oh those dreadful studies ! " exclaimed Clara, bringing her hands together. " They haunt poor Leonard and make him look so sad and thoughtful." "Does he complain to you of their hard- ship ? " said Mrs. Somerset, closing the book with a gentle movement. " Not now," rejoined Clara. " Indeed he THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 259 seldom speaks upon any subject, but walks with me often for hours together without saying a word, and looks as if in a wakeful dream." " Is he then grown so very silent? " asked her mother with a slight smile and inquiring- gaze. " He could scarcely be more so," rejoined Clara, "had he lost the power of speech." " And think you his books so monopolize his thoughts," returned Mrs. Somerset, ban- teringly, " that they exclude all other subjects?" " I suppose so," added Clara, feeling a warm blush mantling itself upon her cheeks. '' Nay, nay, Clara," said her mother, rais- ing a finger as if playfully chiding the doubtful response. " There's a secret in those words." s 2 260 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " Believe me, Mamma," observed Clara, " that I would not — could not keep a secret from you." " And yet you would let me be at the pains of making the discovery myself," said Mrs. Somerset, playfully. At this juncture Leonard Woodbee's approaching form caught Clara's attention^ and with an exclamation of delight she sprang upon her feet and hastened to meet him. " How is it that you play laggard this morning?" asked she, holding out a hand and greeting him warmly. " You would not accuse me of that, dear Clara," replied Leonard, " if you knew with what pleasure I came the moment I could get away from my tormentor." " Does the doctor still continue to be the ogre that he was?" inquired she archly. ''And increasing in size daily," replied THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 261 Leonard, smiling, '' as he does in hideous- ness." " Well, well ! " rejoined Clara, yielding an arm which he drew through his own, and fondly pressed her to his side, " we must not speak of him now. This is a time for happy thoughts and not for horrors." *' He has seldom been from my thoughts for many a day," returned the boy, turning a melancholy gaze upon his companion, '^ and," continued he with a deep heart- drawn sigh, " I fear, never will be." Clara now perceived the deeply-lined and blanched features which followed this observation, and there was a wild, glassy expression about his eyes which quite startled her. " Are you unwell, Leonard? " asked she^ stopping and bending a look of mingled anxiety and alarm upon him. " No," he replied, drawing a hand across 262 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. his brow, " I think not, although my head is somewhat heavy to-day, and I start almost at my own shadow." They had now arrived where Mrs. Somerset was sitting, and she expressed an involuntary surprise upon seeing Leonard's strangely altered appearance. " Doctor Starkie has been very severe and impatient this morning," said he, " and the more he became so, the less capable was I of understanding what he said. After threatening two or three times to fetch my father, he at length did so, and complaining of my inattention, as he called it, I was severely scolded, and at last — " he hesitated to complete the sentence, but the quivering lip and averted face told the rest. " No, no," exclaimed Mrs, Somerset, rising from the ground with far greater energy than she appeared capable of exhibiting, and placing an arm affectionately round THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 263 Leonard's neck, " tell me not that ! They did not — could not strike you ! " " 'Twas done in haste," responded the boy, as two large tears rose to course them- selves down his cheeks; '^ but it was a heavy, cruel blow." A shrill, piercing cry now broke from Clara's lips, and, falling upon her mother's bosom, she wept as if her young heart would break. " I am not hurt," said Leonard, eagerly, " at least but very little. Do not pain me thus, dear Clara, by giving way to ground- less grief." " Come, come," added Mrs. Somerset, soothingly, " you hear what Leonard says." ''To strike him!" sobbed the girl with choking voice. " How could a hand be raised against one so gentle and so good !" ''You must not praise me, Clara," re- turned he, dividing the curls upon her brow, 2f)4 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. and pressing his lips to it imprinted a long and loving kiss. " Remember," continued he, '' that my mother cautioned you against doing so, as she said it made me vain." ''And where is Alice?" asked Mrs. Somerset. " I hoped that she would be with you." " I fear," responded Leonard, dejectedly, " that she will not join us to-day." " Was she a witness to the deed of violence?" inquired Mrs. Somerset, anxiously. " She heard all that passed, I think," replied he, "although I uttered no cry nor even murmur." " May Heaven have mercy on a mo- ther's heart ! " fervently ejaculated Mrs. Somerset. As if by common consent, the painful subject of discussion was now dropped, and the three strolled in silence along the margin THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 265 of the lake, and Leonard gathered the wild flowers, growing in profusion around, to present in bouquets to Clara. The principal tributary to the line mirror- like sheet of water was a narrow and quick- running stream, flanked by alders, which wound a serpentine course through a valley of the greatest beauty. Sloping hills dotted by clumps of thorns and capped by trees of the growth of centuries, swept themselves in gradual declivities to the current's edge, where it broke noisily over a bed of pebbles, and lashed root and stone, and foamed and whirled along, as if in anger at the impediments to its course. Not far from the mouth of the lake where the stream bubbled from the shallows and glided into deep black water, Corporal Crump's form was detected as he stood whipping an artificial fly lightly over the surface. Adroitly the old soldier handled 266 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. his pliant pole, and notwithstanding the low and thick branches drooping around, he sent the line flying between them without touching a twig. So occupied was the corporal with his essay at the gentle craft, that, until addressed by Leonard Woodbee, he remained unconscious of any one's approach. "Have you been successful with your sport? " inquired he. " Oh ! " exclaimed Corporal Crump, drop- ping his hazel rod and making an ordinary, soldier-like salute, " taken by surprise in the rear, eh, Sir?" "A march is not often stolen upon you," observed Mrs. Somerset, smiling. " Why, no, my Lady ! " replied the veteran reflectively. " IVe seen a little too much service," continued he, " to be frequently taken a-back or be caught dozing at my post." THK BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 267 '^ How many fish have you caught to- day? " asked Clara. " Three brace and a half of as nice trout as you could wish to see," returned the corporal, opening the creel, and exposing to view the fish spread on a layer of fresh- pulled rushes. " But to take trout hand- somely," continued he, "we should borrow a leaf from the devil's book, and do as he does with us poor miserable sinners." "The devil's book!" repeated Leonard. " Why so. Corporal?" " He has the most tempting lures for all times and seasons, tastes and stomachs, Sir," replied the old soldier, " and there's no fish- ing superior to this. There are few of us so wary but can be caught with some par- ticular favourite sin, and it's the strength of a regiment to a wooden leg, that this is the bait which covers his hook." " Temptation — ^ " . . 268 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " Is like this May fly, my Lady," added the corporal, exhibiting the rough represen- tation of the gay-winged insect fabricated upon a hook. " It looks real, and, for its kind, substantial enough; but let but a trout snap at the hackles and feathers, and he'll find, like us poor miserable sin- ners when bobbing at a bit of gold or gammon, what it is to be caught by appear- ances.'* '' That it's too late to profit by the lesson," replied Mrs. Somerset. '' There is the tun in which our bolts of sorrow and disappointment are shot, my Lady!" rejoined the veteran, shaking his head. " Too late ; our lessons are all learned too late ! We know that we're wrong when the hook is in." " I begin to think with Mr. Giles," said Clara with a smile, " that Corporal Crump would be as successful in the hood and THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 269 cassock as he has proved himself to be in a uniform of a different character." " If I were a teacher o' the truth, Miss Clara," replied the old soldier, putting the May fly into shape, and preparing to make another throw, " I'd make it a point to set an example, and prove by my living as well as my preaching that I supported the argu- ment. It's easy enough to tell our neigh- bours what they should do, and what they should not do," continued he with emphasis, " but leading the way, and showing that you're in earnest, is paint of another colour." As the sentence was concluded he whipped his fly with an expert throw over the water, so that it seemed to flutter as it fell where a few air bubbles had just risen, and imme- diately afterwards the whish-sh of the reel, as the line flew from it, announced that it had been a successful one. !270 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. " It's a fish worth having this time/' said Leonard, interested in the sport. " Ay, Sir," responded the corporal, " by the pull he gives he'll sink the scale with a three pound weight." For some minutes he played the fish with both skill and patience till, at length, exhausted with its efibrts, up came the cap- tive to the surface of the water, exhibiting a speckled and silver side of great attraction for an epicurean eye. Again, however, he sought the depths where the green rush springs, and it still seemed doubtful whether an escape would not be effected, when Leonard, instructed by the corporal, took the landing net, which rested against the trunk of an adjoining alder, and. as the trout made a second appearance, held the mesh so that it was drawn gradually into it. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 271 "There," said Corporal Crump exultingly, " we've got him safe at last." " And I'll have you safe, you poaching rascal ! " hallooed a voice from the opposite side of the stream, and, upon looking up, the whole party found themselves confronted by the angry and threatening visage of Squire Woodbee. " I beg your pardon, Sir," said the old soldier, raising a hand to his brow, " but — " " I gave him leave to fish, Papa," inter- rupted Leonard quickly, " but I would not have done so, had I known you would have objected." " You gave him leave. Sir? " rejoined Squire Woodbee, with a brow like a thunder cloud. " And by what right do you pre- sume to exercise such an authority? " " I thought," pleaded the abashed boy, "that there was no harm in my doing so. The corporal," continued he, by way of a 272 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. palliative, "is always very generous with what he catches." " Generous with what he catches ! " repeated his irate father. " Really I'm infinitely obliged to your friend, Sir, as I suppose I must regard him, for being liberal with what does not belong to him. And pray may I ask if those, too," said he, pointing to Mrs. Somerset and Clara, " are trespassers on my property by your leave and license? " Mrs. Somerset, whose features were hidden by a thick veil of black crape, made a low and graceful courtesy at the comple- tion of the sentence, and taking Clara by the hand led her away. " They are a lady and her daugher, friends of my mother," replied Leonard, " living in the village, and occasionally walk here with her and me." " Oh indeed ! " rejoined the Squire, by no THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 273 means appeased with the information. " I was not aware of your possessing clandes- tine acquaintances. Thank you for the information." " You'll not be angry with either him or us, Sir, I hope," said Corporal Crump, baring his venerable cauliflower head. " If we've done wrong, why the best of Christians are not always in the right, and take the word of an old soldier, no offence was meant." " I've nothing to do with what was meant," returned Squire Woodbee. " I found you fishing in my trout stream, thafs poaching. I found those persons," continued he, pointing to Mrs. Somerset and Clara retreating from the vicinity, " walking where there is no path, upon my property; that's trespassing. The law defines these offences by these titles, and provides ade- quate punishment for the perpetrating of them. Had it not been for my sol's un- VOL. T. T 274 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. warrantable interference I would have put it in force against all with the utmost rigour ; as it is, begone and never let me see ye here again." Corporal Crump made no reply; but keeping a steady eye fixed on Squire Wood- bee, who seemed to quail beneath the keen, penetrating glance, slowly replaced his hat, shouldered his rod, and strode away. 275 CHAPTER XIX. Everybody knew Miss Baxter; Miss Elizabeth Christina Baxter. Not to know that small, spare, and, indeed, lean Samari- tan who, with a roll of music, book, or basket in hand, trotted with a kind of pigeon's run from house to house, wherein young ideas had to be duly trained and cultured, would be proof complete of a most limited acquaintance with the inhabi- tants of Grundy's Green and its vicinity. It mattered not what the weather was, or what the season, Miss Elizabeth Christina t2 276 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. Baxter might be seen trudging through heat and cold, dust and mire, snow, hail, and rain in perfect defiance of the elements. And such was the good humour and kindli- ness of spirit sparkling within that virgin bosom like rock crystal in the sunshine, albeit bereft of every youthful charm, that let the summer's scorching rays bring forth globes of perspiration upon her brow, to trickle down her wan and toil-worn features, or the keen and nipping winter^s wind to turn the tip of that pointed nose into the hue of a ripe mulberry, there was always a smile upon Miss Baxter's countenance — a smile of contentment, peace and charity. All loved the old governess. Even the dullest of comprehension, struggling with the gigantic difficulties of the multiplication table, flattened their noses against the windows and peeped for her coming without the smallest dread. If a lesson was well THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 277 learned, Miss Baxter praised the accomplish- ment of the task in the most liberal manner that can possibly be conceived, and if a failure took place, however decided, there was a method in her chiding which seemed quite pleasant to receive. A hope, a strong and powerful hope, that a second and more energetic attempt would prove triumphant, invariably accompanied the correction, and examples were selected of the exalted posi- tions those held in her affections, who did their duty with satisfaction in common to the teacher and the taught. A model of a governess was Miss Baxter. Patient and reconciled to her lot, she per- formed her daily work for her daily bread, and notwithstanding the dire difficulties which often vexed and sorely troubled her in — to use a conventional phrase — " making ends meet," she was never known to murmur, although poverty was no 278 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. stranger to the little decayed gentlewoman's home. For Miss Elizabeth Christina Baxter was well born, well educated, and once possessed both the comforts and luxuries of life ; but the storm came when least expected, and the merchant's daughter, flattered and caressed by the rich and titled, was for- gotten, as if she had never been, when one hapless day men shrugged their shoulders on the Exchange and whispered " bank- rupt." She was young then, full of hope and dreams of future happiness, a light-hearted, merry girl. The scene was changed, and the merchant's heiress, the child of him whose wealth commanded the adulation of fawning thousands, became dependent upon her own labours to avoid the more fearful alternative of a pauper's refuge. Such is life. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 279 The striking features both of Miss Baxter and her establishment were their limitations. Not only, as before has been remarked, was her own person upon a small scale; but everything around, about, and in her possession corresponded as by exact and proportionate admeasurement. Her hjouse consisted of two rooms, as the land- lord facetiously called them, although cup- boards would have been far more appropriate appellations for the apartments, and the garden, abutting on the highway, comprised full six square feet of ground, irrespectively of the path, occupying quite four in addi- tion. It was, however, with considerable interest that Miss Baxter watched the annual reappearance of a solitary bachelor crocus, which reared its saifron head from the patch of black mould, in front of her portal, to tell her that spring was coming, and she cherished a fondness for the stumpy 280 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. old cynic of a myrtle, vegetating with equivocal health in the centre of the patch of black mould cpmprised in the circum- ference of thirty-six liberal inches. It never looked in a thriving state, but occa- sionally threw forth a few sickly green leaves to wither, fade, and fall, and thus, wavering alternately between anticipated death and unlooked-for resuscitation, kept Miss Baxter's floricultural aiFections in the opposite condition to that of a somnolescent one. Within, as without, everything pertaining to the household was small, very small. A West Indian planter's hat would have ex- tinguished the table on which Miss Eliza- beth Christina took her diurnal meals, and the three straight-backed, hard-bottomed cane chairs gave an impression that more ease might be derived from a seat 6n a high, narrow mantel-shelf, than could THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 281 be enjoyed upon their comfortless propor- tions. Everything pertaining to the household was small, very small. A little kettle hissed and spluttered, like an ill-conditioned critic, upon a stove hold- ing but a pinch of coals when piled to the topmost bar, and the poker was not bigger than the skewer one sometimes sees in a round of boiled beef. In a closet which, it is superfluous to say, was close at hand, a few culinary articles were arranged, and appeared to have been originally constructed for some popular pigmy. A mutton chop would have more than covered the gridiron, and a muffin must have been squeezed into the frying-pan. Even the teapot was small, very small; and that is saying some- thing for the self-denial of an old maid of sixty- one who, if she felt an approximation to the pleasure which may be derived from 282 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. the stimulating influence of the cup, it was in the temperate one of a cup of tea, far from strong and under sugared. It was not a habit of Miss Elizabeth Christina Baxter to let the gloom of anti- cipated evils cast their shadows around, her; but as she sat one evening by her own fire- side watching the faces, figures, and quaint shapes of things, neither celestial nor terres- trial, which ever and anon became visible on the burning coals, a fear of something about to happen, an undefined dread stole through her system with the chilling effect of cold water trickling down the centre of her back. And who has not felt the same forebod- ing, the same mysterious, inexplicable com- muning of the future with the present? Linking the unreal with the real, how often are phantoms the harbingers of the event! It was strange, very strange, at least so THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 283 thought Miss Baxter, as with an involuntary shudder she seized the skewer, and poked the fire into a blaze, which throwing forth a clear cheerful light, brought her coun- tenance upon the canvass, as it were, like a picture just scrubbed. Time works great changes in beauty's pencillings, and frequently not a trace remains of what has been. This was not, however, the case with Miss Elizabeth Christina Baxter, If her cheek no longer wore the bloom of youth, and furrows lined them, there was still that left which told that her glass might once have been con- sulted with more than usual satisfaction. Her features, delicately moulded, appeared never to have been ruffled by contending passions, or those fierce feelings which put indelible seals upon them, and they still wore the mild expression of a happy, gentle child. The neatness of Miss Baxter's costume, 284 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. both generally and particularly, was pro- verbial. " As neat as Miss Baxter/' became a local simile of long standing, and difficult indeed would it have been for any one to have surpassed her. Her hair, frosted by chinchilla tints, was worn in two straight bands, and a bowless cap, fringed with the paragon of lace borders, worked by her own hands, formed a perfect antithesis to Mistress Twigg's. There was nothing j aunty about Miss Baxter's cap. It sat upon her head as close as wax, and looked as much a part and parcel of it as its natural skin. Prim it might have been, and with the supporting evidence probably a waste of time to struggle against the objection; but what could be smoother, and in more perfect order, than the network and ruffle which encompassed her neck and throat? And then the high-cut, long-waisted dress, always of a sombre colour, had no rival THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 285 pattern in, near, or about Grundy's Green. Its originality was undisputed, and the Baxterian style remained by itself, alone. Unlike old maids, who are somewhat irre- verently spoken of by the ribald tongue of" the post horse rumour," Miss Elizabeth Chris- tina Baxter kept no cat, neither did she delight in scandal, gossip, cordials, or other kinds of stimulants. In speaking of her neighbours, she appeared to have an excel- lent memory for their virtues but none for their failings, and thus it was that the even tenor of her life passed and glided on. There were some frightful faces in the coals, and all seemed to be grinning at Miss Baxter, as she endeavoured in vain to dispel the cloud which hung gloomily upon her .spirits. At other times, solitary as her condition might be considered, she would not have sprung like a shuttle-cock from 286 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE the Stroke of the battledore, as a slight rap gave notice of some one being just on the outside of the threshold of her' door; but as the knock for admission was delivered, her person gave a convulsive bound from the cane-bottomed chair of which it seemed scarcely capable. "Who is there? '^ said Miss Baxter, placing her right hand on her left side and panting as if a severe race had been brought to a finish with no time for the recovery of breath. "Who is there, I say?'^ and she placed an ear to the key-hole of the door with evident trepidation. " Let me in," replied a soft, plaintive voice, and, as soon as the words were spoken, bolt and lock flew back to the touch of Miss Baxter's nimble fingers, and Mrs. Woodbee, entering the cottage, tottered forward and sank in an exhausted condition upon the nearest seat. THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 287 '^ What — tell me what has happened ? '' ejaculated Miss Baxter, clasping Mrs. Wood- bee's hand^ between her own, and bending over her with the deepest solicitude. " A moment," replied Mrs. Woodbee, faintly, " and I will tell you all, and were it not for one," continued she, raising her eyes, " one whom I could not leave willingly on earth even for heaven itself, would that when told my last words were spoken !" " Speak not so," rejoined Miss Baxter, drawing a chair by the side of her friend. " Your words wring my very heart." "Ah!" sighed Mrs. Woodbee, deeply. " Thousands of hearts are daily wrung, and each, to its possessor, seems more tortured than the rest. But mine — a mother's heart — racked through witnessing the broken health and wasting energies of her child ; to see him tremble at his own thoughts, and mark the anxious dread blanching his once 288 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. ruddy cheek and happy face, is woe which a mother can only feel. If it pleased Him," continued she, " who directs all things for all-wise purposes, to have smitten my boy with fell disease, and taken him from me, to have murmured would have been but mortal ; but to see his young heart dying within him, to kill him before my eyes by a death so cruel, is" — and bursting into tears she could say no more. Sympathising with her friend to the fullest extent, Miss Baxter exercised the most persuasive language at her command, to assuage the grief which overwhelmed Mrs. Woodbee; but all she could say ap- peared to produce but little effect. " In the forms of men, " resumed the sorrowing mother, " devils are sometimes to be met with, and if ever one existed in the shape of man, more cruel, treacherous, and remorseless than another, it is that THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 289 demon, Dr. Starkie, poor Leonard's tutor.'' ^' The wretch!" exclaimed Miss Baxter. " But he will get his deserts, dear Madam, Yes, yes ; we shall yet see him with a pro- portionate reward for his iniquities." " Poor consolation that to me," returned her companion, dejectedly. *' What I would do, is to check or stop them, and this is the object of my seeking you to-night. You always loved your little pupil?" " Fondly," rejoined Miss Baxter with enthusiasm, " and am prepared, if necessary to walk over red-hot ploughshares to serve him." ** The ordeal I am about asking you to undergo," said Mrs. Woodbee, rallying slightly from her depression, "is not so severe as that ; but still one which will sorely test your nerves, I fear." " No matter," replied Miss Baxter, with VOL. I. u 290 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. a courageous demeanour amounting to recklessness, " Fm prepared for anything." "For some time past," continued her companion, " I have felt convinced that Doctor Starkie has some object to serve in the treatment to which he subjects my son ; but what that is, remains beyond my powers of penetration to discover. To me he is all profession of kindness and consideration, and regrets the discipline necessary — as he says — for the development of his mental powers. This, however, is but a mask to conceal a design of which I am ignorant. He knows, as well as myself, that so far from acquiring knowledge, his mind, like his poor attenuated frame, is becoming hourly impaired, and unless a change, a total and speedy change, takes place in the harsh conduct which is so constantly observed towards him, instead of the scholar loaded with honors we shall have — an idiot." THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 291 "Heaven have mercy on us!" exclaimed Miss Baxter. " What can be done to avert such misery?" " I say," resumed Mrs. Woodbee, without heeding the remark, " that Doctor Starkie knows this as well as I do, and yet he con- tinues, from day to day, to pursue the same unrelenting course. My husband, blind to the consequences, and his thoughts wrapped in the vision of seeing his son a great and distinguished man, perceives nothing but the effects of mental labour, and sternly forbids my slightest interference ; but with you, perhaps, he may be more patient. He will listen" — " He shall listen," interrupted Miss Baxter, " m tell him to his face that he's a brute." "Nay, nay," rejoined Mrs. Woodbee, smiling, " such a beginning, I fear, would not lead to a desirable end. You must control your feelings, and lead him rather u2 292 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. by persuasive reasoning, than that of an opposite character. Tell him — as he can- not but believe — that, seeing so great and sad an alteration in your late pupil, you are led, from the most disinterested of mo- tives, to represent the great injury which must be the result of the present system of " — " Barbarous cruelty, becoming only sa- vage cannibals," added Miss Baxter. " That's the truth, and it does me good to speak it.'* " I begin to fear that your advocacy,'* returned Mrs. Woodbee, " would not further the cause." " Don't be afraid of my want of discre- tion," said Miss Baxter. '' In the presence of Bluebeard ; pardon me," continued she, taking one of her companion's hands between her own, "but, save in your presence, I always call Mr. Woodbee Bluebeard — I'll say not a word which might offend him. Whatever my inclination may be to speak THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 293 exceedingly plain and to the purpose, I must think of the object only, and the most expedient method of attaining it." ''You will undertake, then, to see my husband?" inquired Mrs. Woodbee. "Afraid as one naturally must be of any one, or anything exceedingly fierce," replied Miss Baxter, " I will most assuredly confront Mr. Bluebeard at an early hour in the morning. He may feel inclined to cut my head oflp," continued she, closing her eyes with resignation, " but he will confine his feelings to these limits, I've no doubt." During this conference, the only light in the apartment was that rendered by the fire, which, being neglected, threw but a dull, leaden one around, making " darkness visi- ble.'' The moon now broke from between a heavy bank of clouds, and shining brightly forth, brought bright shadows from without, and streaked them in fantastic shapes upon 294 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. the walls. Among them, distinct and pal- pable, was that of a man in a stooping attitude, with a hand raised as if to catch the slightest sound, or as an indication of his riveted attention. " Lookr*' exclaimed Mrs. Woodbee, pointing to the reflection. " What is that?'' "What is that?'' repeated Miss Baxter, in a tone of indignation, as she seized the skewer of a poker, and flourished it above her head. ** That,' continued she, loudly, so as to convey due notice of her advent, " is the shadow of some paltry, mean, and contemptible eaves-dropper listening at the keyhole of my door. If not ofi^ before I open it, I will try what stout iron will do upon the substance." As these words were delivered during Miss Baxter's approach towards the door, the shadow gradually glided from the wall, and before it was thrown back upon its THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 295 hinges, it had vanished, and left no trace behind. " Stand forth ! " cried Miss Baxter, " who- ever you are,'* and she pitched her voice in a shrill key. " Let me, at least, know the basest of mankind ; " but if truth must be told, there was little desire for an immediate introduction to the basest of mankind. Like many a bolder heart, Miss Baxter's had a steadier pulse when danger appeared in the perspective. " I may be wrong," remarked Mrs. Wood- bee, nervously ; " but I think — I think that our conversation has been overheard by — " "The basest of mankind,'* added Miss Baxter at the top of her voice ; *^of that I feel quite certain, let the individual be who he may." " No matter," returned Mrs. Woodbee, ** my suspicions are, perhaps, ill-founded; but the shadow bore so close a resemblance 296 THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. to Doctor Starkie, that I cannot but think it was he who was playing eaves- dropper.'^ " Then he must have watched you on the road, and dogged your footsteps here," re- joined Miss Baxter. " I'm sure it was him," said Mrs. Wood- bee, musingly. '* But what could be his object?" inquired Miss Baxter. " It is impossible to divine," replied her companion. " There is so much mystery in all he says and does, that I almost dread to think of him." " Well, well,'' ejaculated Miss Baxter. " If it was him, he heard no complimentary remarks concerning himself, and that's highly consoling to me. However," continued she, " to-morrow morning I wiU call upon Mr. Bluebeard, and expostulate with him, even if he should threaten to call in the headsman. In the meantime you must THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE. 297 not give way to fear or despondency; but hoping for the best, resist anticipations of evil. I will accompany you on your road homewards, and rely implicitly upon your body guard for that protection which the weak have a right to demand at the hands of the strong and doughty." And having said that which she believed to be most likely to cheer the spirits of Mrs. Woodbee, Miss Baxter seized her shawl and bonnet, and, with a shake and a pull, com- pleted her toilet, and announced that " she was ready." END OF VOL. I. M S Myevs, Printer, 22, Tavistock Street, Covent Garden. I»