Hussars, with a loved one near and all the village girls fixing their eyes on me! That for once only, and my utmost ambition would be gratified. Life could have no greater pride for me. I don’t know whether the sermon made much impression that day, but of the two, I verily believe Joe made the most; and as they streamed out of the little church all the young faces of the congregation were turned to him: and everywhere when they got outside it was, “Halloa, Joe!” “Why, Joe, my lad, what cheer?” “Dang’d if here bean’t Joe!” and other exclamations of welcome and surprise. And then, how all the pinafored boys flocked round and gazed with wondering eyes at this conquering hero; chattering to one another and contradicting one another about what this part of his uniform was and what that part was, and so on; but all agreeing that Joe was about the finest sight that had come into Yokelton since ever it was a place.
And then the old clergyman sent for him and was as kind as ever he could be; and Joe was on the enchanted ground where the fairy Polly flitted about as noiselessly as a butterfly. Ah, and what’s this? Now let not the reader be over-anxious; for a few lines I must keep you, gentle one, in suspense; a great surprise must be duly prepared. If I told you at once what I saw, you would not think so much of it as if I kept you a little while in a state of wondering curiosity. What do you think happened in the Vicarage?
Now’s the moment to tell it in a fresh paragraph. Why in came the fairy with a little tray of cake and wine! Now pause on that before I say any more. What about their eyes? Did they swim? What about their hearts; did they flutter? Did Polly blush? Did Joe’s bronzed face shine? Ah, it all took place, and
much more than I could tell in a whole volume. The vicar did not perceive it, for luckily he was looking out of the window. It only took a moment to place the tray on the table, and the fairy disappeared. But that moment, not then considered as of so much importance, exciting as it was, stamped the whole lives of two beings, and who can tell whether or no such a moment leaves its impress on Eternity?
All good and all kind was the old vicar; and how attentively he listened with Mrs. Goodheart to the eye-witness of England’s great deeds! And then—no, he did not give Joe a claptrap maudlin sermon, but treated him as a man subject to human frailties, and, only hoped in all his career he would remember some of the things he had been taught at the Sunday School.
“Ay,” said Joe, “ay, sir, and the best lesson I ever larned, and what have done me most good, be the kindness I always had from you.”
So they parted, and a day or two after, strangely enough, just as Joe was walking along by the old Oak that is haunted, and which the owls and the ghosts occupy between them, who should come down the lane in the opposite direction but Polly Sweetlove! Where she came from was the greatest mystery in the world! And it was so extraordinary that Joe should meet her: and he said so, as soon as he could speak.
“Now look at that! Whoever would have thought of meeting anybody here?”
Polly hung down her head and blushed. Neither of them knew what to say for a long time; for Joe was not a spokesman to any extent. At last Polly Sweetlove broke silence and murmured in the softest voice, and I should think the very sweetest ever heard in this world: