CHAPTER XII
The village was not a little awed by the strange turn that affairs had taken, for the two noisiest tongues in it had been silenced, Mrs. Fry's by the restoration of her Tommy's power of speech, Mrs. Mugford's by the arrest of her son. The Corporal had been vindicated and his slanderers confounded; but Lady Eleanor as usual did all that she could to make unpleasant things as little unpleasant as possible. The deserter was sent away to Plymouth so quietly that hardly any one found it out, and his disconsolate mother was somewhat comforted by Lady Eleanor's assurance that everything would be done to obtain mercy for him. Moreover the Corporal declared that he would not touch the two guineas reward that he had earned, but would hand them over to Lady Eleanor to spend for the good of the parish as she should think best; which fact leaking out through the servants at the Hall did much to regain for him the goodwill that he had so unjustly lost.
Another thing also helped to restore harmony; for Dick could not leave home for school without going round to say good-bye to all his friends, and these were so numerous that there was hardly a cottage at which he did not step in, being always sure of welcome and good wishes. The farewells ended with a visit to old Sally Dart, who, feeble and crippled though she was, had prepared a great feast of hot potato-cake (which was made under her own eye by a neighbour, since she was too weak to make it herself) honey and clouted cream; while the little silver cream-jug and the six silver spoons, which the old squire and his lady had given her at her marriage, were all brought out for so great an occasion. A great meal they ate, the Corporal attacking his potato-cake and cream as heartily as Dick himself; and when all the old stories had been related for the fiftieth time, old Sally produced the greatest treasure that she owned, a little snuff-box mounted in silver, which had been made from the horn of an ox that had been roasted whole at the great election, when old Squire Bracefort had stood at the head of the poll. This she gave to Dick for his own, and then setting the boy in front of her she put his hair off his forehead and begged him that if ever any child or children of her son Jan should appear, he would be kind to them for her sake, and that he would think of this when he looked at the box. Dick promised this readily, though he was a little puzzled at her earnestness; and then she bade him good-bye and God bless him, and prayed that he might grow up to be such another man as his father had been. So the children and the Corporal returned to the Hall thoughtful and subdued, though the children hardly knew why.
Two days later, early in the morning, Dick and the Corporal drove off to meet the coach. Little Elsie stood on the steps crying silently, but Dick was so much excited at the prospect of the journey, that he held up bravely, and fluttered his handkerchief out of the window as long as the house was in sight. So Lady Eleanor and Elsie waited until the handkerchief could be seen no more, and then went in sadly together. Lessons were a heavy task that morning; and when they were over and Elsie was gone out, Lady Eleanor felt lonely and depressed and out of heart with everything. She was roused by the sound of a horse on the gravel; and presently Colonel Fitzdenys came in to say that he had seen Dick off by the coach, and that the boy was in good spirits. Lady Eleanor never felt more thankful for his presence than on that morning; but they had not talked for very long, when a maid-servant came in with a scared face to say that the strange woman from the moor was come, and begged, if she might, to see her Ladyship directly.
So Lady Eleanor went out and Colonel George with her; and there the woman was, with her face ghastly white, her eyes wild and weary, and every line in her countenance ploughed thrice as deep as when they had last seen her. She was sitting in a chair which the frightened maid had brought to her, but rose wearily as Lady Eleanor came to her.
"Are you in trouble, my poor soul?" said Lady Eleanor, shocked at her appearance. "Tell me what has happened!" and she motioned to her to sit down again.
The woman waited for a moment and then said in a hard voice, "'Tis my boy Jan; I can't rightly tell what's wrong wi' mun"—and then she stopped, but seeing the sympathy in Lady Eleanor's eyes broke out hurriedly, "Oh, my Lady, I believe that they've a-killed mun. Since I took mun home three days agone he won't eat and won't take no notice of naught, but lieth still; and 'twas only when I left mun for a minute that he made a kind of crying and clung to me like. I had to carry mun home herefrom the day I left you."
"You carried him home?" broke in Colonel George astonished.
"Yes," said the woman simply; "'most all the way, for he soon gived out walking; and ever since he's growed weaker and weaker, till this morning at daylight he didn't take notice of me no longer, so then I was obliged to leave mun"—she stopped a minute and went on in a harder voice—"I couldn't help it; I come to ask you if you could spare mun a drop of wine or what you think might do mun good, for"—she stopped again and buried her face in her hands.
Lady Eleanor did not speak; she only laid her hand gently on the woman's shoulder, which sank down and down until she was bent double. Colonel George at once slipped out of the room and presently returned with wine, which he gave to Lady Eleanor. The woman revived when she had drunk a little, and then Colonel George said to her: "Now, my good woman, you must let me go back with you to your son and take with me some things for him. Don't be afraid"—(for the woman was shaking her head)—"I am your friend and you may trust me to keep your secret if you have any to keep. Think, now, if I know the way, you can stay with your son and I can bring him up whatever he wants on any day that you please; and I'll bind myself not to show the way to any one, nor to come back except on the day that you choose."