Part 1, Chapter XXXIX.
Fullerton’s Prophecy.
In a place like Lawford, where every one knew more of his or her neighbours affairs than the individual could possibly know for him or herself, the encounter near Kilby Farm soon had its place as the chief item of news, and was dressed and garnished according to the taste of those who related it.
The principal version was that, stung by a letter sent by Sage Portlock, Luke Ross had come down from town and purposely left the coach at Cross-lane, so that he could waylay and murder Cyril Mallow with a huge hedge-stake which was picked up afterwards near the place.
For a short time the gossips were at fault for a reason, but they only had to wait patiently for a while, and then it was known throughout the place that Cyril Mallow was engaged to marry Sage—a matter so out of all reason to the muddled intellect of Humphrey Bone, the old schoolmaster, that he said it was enough to make widow Marly turn in her grave.
Why, he did not explain. It could not have been from jealous disappointment, for widow Marly had had a very fair share of matrimonial life, having married at the early age of sixteen, and being led twice afterwards to the hymeneal altar before dying at a very good old age.
“But it’s a wrong thing,” he said, at the King’s Head, during a course of potations—“a wrong thing; and no good will come. Two sorts, oil and water, and they won’t mix. Tell parson I say so, some of you, if you like. It’s his doing to get the girl’s money, and it’s a wrong thing.”
In the midst of the many discussions in Lawford it was asked why Luke Ross was not to be prosecuted for assaulting the parson’s son.
“Nice sort of fellow,” said Fullerton; “goes to learn to be a lawyer, and comes down here and breaks the law.”
“Ah! it’s been a strange bad case,” said Smithson, the tailor.