—Chaucer.
“Truth is God’s child, and the fortunes of truth are God’s care as well
as ours.”
—Bishop Phillips Brooks1.
The little room in the church tower had become curiously2 dear to Gabriel. Its bare walls, its bell ropes, its dusty rafters and the narrow window half veiled by ivy3, were associated with those happy days when life and health gradually returned, and Hilary, with all her old winsomeness4, and with that new and half-wistful humility5 which changed her from a self-willed child to a noble woman, grew hourly more precious to him.
One day, however, nearly six weeks after the Battle of. Ledbury, he noticed how thin her hands were growing, and, looking more searchingly into her face, thought less of its beauty and more of the dark shadows round her eyes.
“You are pale and weary, dear heart,” he said, caressing6 the hand that had done so much for him. “These long weeks have overtaxed you.”
“No, no; I shall be well enough when you are quite safe,” said Hilary, her voice faltering7. “But—don’t laugh at me, Gabriel!—I feel as if you would be called on to suffer for my sin.”
“Your sin?” he questioned.
“’Tis no idle superstition,” she said, her eyes filling, “’tis an instinct that my punishment will come that way.”
“But what sin? That of playing good Samaritan to a rebel?” said Gabriel, smiling.
“I mean the lie that I told in the orchard,” she said, drooping8 her head.
“That was as much my fault as yours,” said Gabriel, tenderly. “I moved, and that affrighted you; but to listen to that villain9 was more than I could endure.”
“Oh, you’ll never know what it was to feel when you were carried here that, but for my cowardice10, the duel11 need never have been fought,” said Hilary. “Had I only kept silence, Waghorn would have been present, and would at least have saved me from Colonel Norton.”
“You were not cowardly!” he protested.
“Yes; to lie is cowardly,” she said. “And it is the one thing I thought I never could do.”
“Dearest,” he said, drawing her nearer to him, “you are not the first who in a moment of peril12 has lost faith. Though silence would have been best, who would dare to judge you?”
“And yet silence might often betray—might seem to give consent,” she said, musingly13.
“God has charge of consequences,” he said, quietly. “And I suppose we always do amiss when we take into human hands the guidance that belongs to Him alone.”
“You mean that at all costs we must be true?”
“Yes, dear heart. But a truce15 to disputations.”
“You and I have done with disputes,” she said, tenderley. “Love and danger and the shadow of death have lifted us above our old arguings.”
“We are somewhat nearer than the day you suggested that we might be friendly foes,” said Gabriel, putting his arm round her.
She laughed softly.
“The day when Mistress Helena roused my jealousy17! No; you shall be a friendly foe16 to every honourable18 Royalist, but to me you are—all the world!
“Dearest, then must I share your troubles, but I fear you are keeping them back from me. Zachary tells me the Vicarage hath been searched!”
“Yes, the Governor of Canon Frome sent to search for you, but that was no great matter. He did not dare to come himself.”
“There is something else, then, that makes you anxious. What is it?”
“Only that on Saturday an order came from the High Sheriff for my uncle to go to-day to Hereford and sign Prince Rupert’s Protestation. Of course he refuses to go, but I fear it may lead to trouble.”
“I trust not,” said Gabriel, gravely. “We seem so nearly through our difficulties. To-morrow night my father and mother coming, and on Wednesday our marriage and escape. By-the-bye, what of Waghorn?”
“He has been quite quiet since the Directory was adopted. My uncle cannot make him out.”
Even as they spoke20 of him, Peter Waghorn, in the tiled cottage by the churchyard, was musing14 over the Vicar’s words the last time he had heard him preach. Against his will the man had been impressed by the way in which Dr. Coke had behaved during the past few weeks under great provocation21; and now as he sat carving22 the delicate pattern of vine leaves on the cupboard door, he remembered how on the previous day the Vicar had made his carving into a parable23, and had shown in the sermon that just as no two branches, and even no two leaves were precisely24 alike, yet all grew from the parent vine, so it was with Christians25.
This was an astonishing notion to Waghorn; he doubted whether it was sound doctrine26, yet it haunted him curiously. As he sat brooding over it that Monday afternoon, there came a peremptory27 knock, and his door was flung open by no less a person than the Governor of Canon Frome.
Norton was now quite recovered, and evidently in a very bad humour; the wood-carver noticed that the lines of cruelty about his mouth were much more clearly marked.
“Well, scarecrow,” he observed, flinging himself into a chair. “You have news, I hope, at last of Captain Harford.”
“No news, sir,” said Waghorn. “I have watched the Vicarage and have made close inquiry28 in the village, but can learn naught29.”
“Yet I am certain he can’t be far,” said Norton. “And find him I will. If only you’d a head on your shoulders you would have trapped him long ago.”
“I have done my best, sir,” said Waghorn.
“I greatly doubt it,” sneered30 the Colonel. “But I have every intention of spurring you on to the work. Find out Captain Harford’s whereabouts, and you may ask what you will of me. Fail, and some fine night you mustn’t be surprised to find your house too hot to hold you. These little accidents will happen in war time.”
And with a mocking laugh he quitted the cottage, leaving Waghorn to uneasy thoughts.
The threat about the house had touched him to the quick, for if there was one thing on earth that he prized, it was this old home in which his father had died.
“I must bestir myself,” he reflected. “That malapert young captain shall not escape. Maybe Zachary can help me. I will ply31 him with cider this evening and worm out his secrets.”
Now, through all those weeks the old sexton had been most discreet32, but unfortunately he was one of those who as success draws nigh grow less cautious. Having baffled Colonel Norton and Waghorn for nearly six weeks, it seemed unlikely that failure should now overwhelm him.
He, therefore, accepted the wood carver’s invitation to drink at the “Bell,” and Waghorn plied33 him with cider so lavishly34 that he became most cheerful and communicative.
“There’s no drink in the world like cider,” he maintained, smiling benevolently35. “You can’t take it too late nor begin it too early. Did I ever tell you the riddle36 that the painter gave me—him as did Mistress Hilary’s portrait? ‘What’s the difference,’ says he, ‘betwixt a tankard o’ morning cider and a pig’s tail?’ Give it up?”
Waghorn nodded.
“The pig’s tail’s twirly, and the morning cider ain’t too early,” said the sexton, laughing boisterously37.
“Talking of Mistress Hilary,” said Waghorn, “I understand that she’s betrothed38 to Captain Harford. When is the marriage to be?”
“Are you looking to be bidden as a wedding guest?” chuckled39 Zachary. “I thought you bore neither o’ them any goodwill40.”
“Truth to tell I thought the Captain was dead,” observed Waghorn.
Zachary emptied his tankard and laughed foolishly.
“I’ve not had the digging of his grave, and yet he ain’t far from the grave,” he said, with the air of one who could say more if he would.
“Zachary!” called the landlord. “You’re wanted at the Vicarage, there’s the housekeeper41 looking for you.”
“These women! these women! they never can let a man have a minute’s peace,” growled42 the sexton. “Well, goodnight to you, Peter, good-night. We’ve had a rare pleasant chat together.”
Waghorn smiled grimly.
“It has served my turn,” he muttered, and fell into deep thought.
Zachary meanwhile was despatched to the tower with Gabriel’s supper and the next day’s breakfast, and was still talking in the dusk with the two lovers when Dr. Coke’s summons was heard below. The sexton admitted him, and was surprised to find that Mrs. Durdle stole in on tiptoe after her master.
“Gabriel,” said the Vicar in an agitated44 voice, “I greatly fear your hiding-place is known, and I have come to urge you to escape.”
“How hath it chanced, sir?” said Gabriel, starting to his feet in dismay.
“All the fault, sir, o’ that fool Zachary with his long tongue,” said Durdle, indignantly.
“Why, Zachary is a kindly45 old soul, he would never betray me,” said Gabriel, incredulously.
At that moment the sexton came up the ladder, and with an angry exclamation46 Mrs. Durdle flew at him and dragged him forward.
“Here, you zany! Come and tell the Vicar what you said just now at the inn, you silly old man to go mag, mag, mag, over your cider, bringing trouble on us all.”
“Gracious goodness, Mrs. Durdle! and what have I been about to fluster47 you like a turkey cock in a tearing temper?” protested the sexton.
“Gently, gently!” said the Vicar, “remember that walls may have ears. The truth is, Zachary, I learn from Bettington, of the ‘Bell,’ that you and Waghorn were drinking together, and that he heard you let fall words as to Captain Harford being above ground still, but not far from the grave.”
Zachary scratched his head. “I do mind me now that we jested about graves, and that ’twas mighty48 pleasant to think how little he knew, for all he looked so wise.”
“I fear, Zachary, the man was too wily for you, he plied you with cider till you all but told him where Captain Harford lay. You should drink less, man, you should drink less.”
“The fall o’ man came from that same plaguey apple-tree that’s been my undoing49!” said the sexton, ruefully.
“Nay, Zachary,” said the Vicar, with a smile, “both falls came from lack of self-control. Don’t blame the apple-tree. But we must not waste time. I think, Gabriel, I had best not wait for the arrival of your father and mother, but wed19 you at daybreak, and speed you on your journey before Bosbury is astir.”
“Can you be ready, dear heart?” said Gabriel, glancing at Hilary.
She did not reply, her eyes were fixed50 on the narrow window, and a look of horror was on her face.
“What is it, child?” said the Vicar, puzzled by her expression.
“We are watched,” she faltered51. “I saw eyes peering betwixt the ivy leaves.”
“I see naught,” said Gabriel. “But, maybe ’twas the white owl43 that lives among the bells, it flies past often enough.”
“It was Waghorn,” she said, shivering.
“I’ll catch the villain, then, and pound his cropped head for him,” said Zachary, scrambling52 down the ladder. “Spiteful, scheming gossip that he is! I’ll teach him what comes of playing tricks on the parish clerk.”
“We must surely have heard him had he climbed up by the ivy,” said Gabriel.
But Hilary was not to be comforted.
“I know it was Waghorn! He will betray us,” she said, tears gathering53 in her eyes.
“There be no sign of him, mistress,” said Zachary, climbing the stairs once more. “You need have no fear, ’twas naught but the hoolet. What about your horse, sir?”
“Why, that’s at Farmer Chadd’s, and had best be fetched, I suppose,” said Gabriel.
“Yes, fetch it, Zachary,” said the Vicar, “when the villagers are asleep, and do you keep watch here to-night in the tower. I shall not breathe comfortably till we have you both safely started for London. Come, Hilary, my child, you have all your preparations to make, and we must not linger.”
Zachary and Durdle went down the ladder arguing about the pillion and the saddle-bags, while the Vicar endeavoured to quiet them, pointing out the need of special caution.
And Hilary clung to her lover, bidding him a last goodnight, and vainly striving to imitate the brave cheerfulness of his manner.
The only comfort was in the feeling of his strong arms around her, and the happy consciousness that, having made a perfect recovery, he was fit to travel.
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1
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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winsomeness
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humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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15
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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parable
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| n.寓言，比喻 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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lavishly
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| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
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benevolently
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| adv.仁慈地，行善地 | |
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riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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boisterously
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| adv.喧闹地，吵闹地 | |
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betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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fluster
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| adj.慌乱，狼狈，混乱，激动 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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50
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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51
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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52
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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53
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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