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Put Yourself in His Place, a novel by Charles Reade |
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Chapter 36 |
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_ CHAPTER XXXVI Early next morning Mr. Raby was disturbed by female voices in a high key. He opened his window quietly, intending to throw in his bass with startling effect, when, to his surprise, he found the disputants were his dairymaid and Jael Dence. "And who are you that interferes with me in my work? Where do you come from? Did ye get in over the wall? for ye never came in at no door. Who are you?" "I am one who won't see the good squire wronged. Aren't ye ashamed? What, eat his bread, and take his wage, and then steal his butter!" "If ye call me a thief, I'll law ye. Thief yourself! you don't belong to the house; whose gown have you got on your back? Here, James! Tom! here's a strange woman making off with the squire's lady's clothes, and two pounds of butter to boot." Jael was taken aback for a moment by this audacious attack, and surveyed her borrowed habiliments with a blush of confusion. Several servants came about at the noise, and her situation bade fair to be a very unpleasant one: but Mr. Raby put in his word; "Hold your tongues, all of ye. Now, Jael Dence, what is the matter?" Instantly all eyes were turned up to the window with a start, and Jael told her tale: "Sir," said she, "I did see this young woman take out something from under her apron and give it to a little girl. I thought there was something amiss, and I stopped the girl at the gate, and questioned her what she was carrying off so sly. She gives a squeak and drops it directly, and takes to her heels. I took it up and brought it in, and here it is, two beautiful pounds of butter, fresh churned; look else!"--here she undid a linen wrap, and displayed the butter--"so I challenged the dairymaid here. She says I'm a thief--and that I leave to you, Squire; you know whether I come of thieves or honest folk; but what I want to know from her is, why her lass dropped the butter and took to her heels at a word?" "Now, my good Jael," said the Squire, "if you are going to interfere every time you catch my servants pilfering, you will have a hard time of it. However, zeal is too rare a thing for me to discourage it. I must make an example. Hy, you young woman: I dare say you are no worse than the rest, but you are the one that is found out; so you must pack up your clothes and begone." "Not without a month's warning, or a month's wage, sir, it you please," said the dairymaid, pertly. "If I catch you in the house when I come down, I'll send you to prison on my own warrant, with the butter tied round your neck." At this direful threat the offender began to blubber, and speedily disappeared to pack her box. Mr. Raby then told the other servants that Jael Dence was the new housekeeper, and that a person of her character was evidently required in the house; they must all treat her with respect, or leave his service. Thereupon two gave warning, and Mr. Raby, who never kept a servant a day after that servant had given him warning, had them up to his room, and paid them a month's wages. "And now," said he, "for the honor of the house, don't leave us fasting, but eat a good breakfast, and then go to the devil." At his own breakfast he related the incident to Dr. Amboyne, with a characteristic comment: "And the fools say there is nothing in race. So likely, that of all animals man alone should be exempt from the law of nature! Take a drowning watch-dog out of the water and put him in a strange house, he is scarcely dry before he sets to work to protect it. Take a drowning Dence into your house, and she is up with the lark to look after your interests. That girl connive and let the man be robbed whose roof shelters her? She COULDN'T; it is not in her blood. I'm afraid there's to be a crusade against petty larceny in this house, and more row about it than it is worth. No matter; I shall support the crusader, on principle. It is not for me to check honest impulses, nor to fight against nature in almost the only thing where she commands my respect." "Very well," said the doctor, "that is settled: so now let us talk of something more important. How are we to get your sister, in her delicate state, from Wales to this place?" "Why, I will go for her myself, to be sure." "Raby, your heart is in the right place, after all. But when she is here, how are we to conceal her unhappy son's fate from her? It will be more difficult than ever, now Jael Dence is in the house." "Why so? We must take the girl into our confidence--that is all." "The sooner the better then. Let us have her in here." Jael was sent for, and Mr. Raby requested her to take a seat, and give all her attention to something Dr. Amboyne had to say. Dr. Amboyne then told her, with quiet earnestness, that Mrs. Little was at present so ill and weak he felt sure the news of Henry's death would kill her. "Ay, poor soul!" said Jael, and began to cry bitterly. The doctor held his peace, and cast a disconsolate look on Raby, as much as to say, "We shall get no efficient aid in this quarter." After a little while Jael dried her eyes, and said, "Go on, sir. I must needs cry before you now and then: 'tisn't to say I shall ever cry before HER." "Well, then, if we CAN get her safe to this place, and keep her in the dark for a few months, I think we may save her life. Every thing else will be in her favor here: her native air, cherished memories, her brother's love--and, after all, it was fretting about her quarrel with him that first undermined her health and spirits. Well, we shall remove the cause, and then perhaps the effect may go. But how are we to keep the sad truth from her?" "Let me think," said Jael Dence. "My head is a deal clearer since last night." She leaned her chin upon her hand, and her face and brow showed signs of intellectual power no one had ever observed in them before. "Who is to go for her?" said she at last. "I am going myself." "That is a mistake at starting, begging your worship's pardon. Why, the very sight of you might startle her into her grave. Nay, you'll give me the money--for mine is all in the savings bank--and I shall go for her myself. I shall tell her squire is longing for her, and that I'm to be here for fear she might feel strange. She always liked me, poor soul. I shall get her safe here, you needn't fear for that. But when she is here"--the chin rested on the hand again--"well, the doctor must forbid visitors. Miss Grace must be told not to write. Every newspaper must be read before she is allowed to see it. And, squire, you will be very kind to her when you are in her company; but we must manage, somehow or other, so that you can keep out of her way." "What for, in heaven's name?" "Sir, we shall have to lie from morn to night; and you will be a bungler at that, saving your presence. If there's a servant left in the house who knows, I'd give that servant a present, and part with her before Mrs. Little sets her foot in the house." "This sounds very sensible," said Raby. "I am a novice at lying. But I shall cultivate the art for poor Edith's sake. I'm not a fanatic: there is justifiable homicide, so why not justifiable facticide?" "Raby," said the doctor, "this young woman has said enough to show me that she is more fit to conduct this delicate undertaking than either you or I. Let us profit by the discovery, put our vanity in our pocket, and give her the command. My dear, you see the importance, you see the difficulty; now will you undertake it?" "I will, sir," said Jael, firmly; "and I look to succeed, God willing. I shall be in Wales this afternoon." "Well, but would you not be the better yourself for one day's rest?" "No, sir. I've learned, with a sad heart, what one day may bring forth. After that, I'm sworn never to throw away a day. And, as for sitting down and thinking, 'tis the worst thing I can do. I do thank God that in this, my own heavy trouble, I'm not tied to my sad thoughts, but can get about, and do a little of good for Raby House. Do what I will, 'tis but giving them back one pig out of their own farrow; for we owe all we have to them." With this she retired to prepare for her journey, leaving both the gentlemen lost in admiration of her simple virtues, and the clear intelligence she had shown them in few words. She traveled into Wales that very day, and many a burst of bitter grief she had all by herself in the train. At six P.M. she stood before Mrs. Little with a smiling countenance. Mrs. Little welcomed her with some little pleasure and much surprise. "Good news, madam," said Jael. "Squire Raby has sent me to bring you to Raby Hall. He wanted to come himself, but I would not let him." "That is good news," said Mrs. Little languidly. "Now I shall die at peace with my brother--at peace with all mankind, I hope." "You'll die when your time comes," said Jael. "But you have got a shorter journey before you at present, and that is to Raby Hall." "Raby Hall! I shall never see it again. I have no strength to move. I am worn out with the battle of life. Stay with me here, and close my eyes." "Of course I shall stay with you," said Jael, and began to gossip with every appearance of carelessness. Next morning, with infinite difficulty, she persuaded the poor jaundiced lady to show her Aberystwith. She took the tickets herself, and got her patient half-way to Hillsborough; next day, with less difficulty, to Raby Hall. All had been settled before. Edith little was shown into her old bedroom, adorned with pyramids of flowers in her honor; and there she found a loving line from Guy, begging her pardon for his past harshness, and telling her she was to send for him as soon as she felt strong enough to meet. That evening brother and sister were clasped in each other's arms, and wept tears of affection and regret over each other. Jael Dence slept on a camp-bed in Mrs. Little's room, which was very spacious, and watched her, and was always about her. Under private advice from Dr. Amboyne, she superintended her patient's diet, and, by soft, indomitable perseverance, compelled her to walk every day, and fight against her fatal lassitude. Heaven rewarded her by giving her a warm and tender affection for her poor patient that did something to fill her own yearning and desolate heart. Here I must leave them both for the present, and show how these events affected the main characters of my story. _ |
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