“You must know, sir,” began Thomas, with an emotion which checked his usual outspoken utterance for a while, “as me and mine don’t belong to these parts; and I daresay you’ve heard some of the queer tales which them as pays more attention to their neighbour’s business than their own has got up about us. However, that matters very little. Our native place is about fifty miles from Crossbourne. Maybe you’ve heard of Squire Morville (Sir Lionel Morville’s his proper title). He lives in a great mansion called Monksworthy Hall, just on the top of the hill after you’ve gone through the village. There’s a splendid park round it. Most of the land about belongs to Sir Lionel; and he’s lord of the manor. Well, I were born, and my father and grandfather before me, in Monksworthy, and so were Jane; and all things went on pretty smooth with us till a few years back. We’d our troubles, of course; but then we didn’t expect to be without ’em—Wasn’t to be looked for that our road through life should be as level all the way as a bowling-green. Sir Lionel were very good to his tenants; but he were rather too fond of having lots of company at the Hall—more, I’m sure, than his lady liked; for she was a truly godly woman, and I don’t doubt is so to this day.
“My father and mother had a very large family, so that there wasn’t full work for us all as we growed up; and, as I was one of the younger ones, they was glad to get me bound apprentice, through the squire’s help, to my present trade in the north. But I liked my own native village better than any other spot as I’d ever seen, so I came back after I’d served my time, and picked up work and a wife, as a good many of the young people had been emigrating to Canada and Australia, and Sir Lionel wanted hands just then. Well, then, God sent us our children, and they soon grew up, and it weren’t such easy work to feed them and clothe them as it is in a place like this. However, the Lord took care of us, and we always had enough.
“Jane went to the Hall to be housemaid soon after I married; and Lady Morville were so fond of her that, she would never hear of her leaving for any other place.—Nay, Jane dear, you mustn’t fret; it’ll all turn out well in the end. There’s One as loves us both, better than Sir Lionel and his lady, and he’ll make all straight sooner or later.
“Now, you must know, sir, as I’d come back from the north a teetotaler. I’d seen so much of the drunkenness and the drink-traps there that I’d made up my mind as total abstinence were the wisest, safest, and best course for both worlds; and Jane, who had never cared for either beer or wine, took the pledge with me when I came home, for the sake of doing good to others.
“Lady Morville didn’t concern herself about this; but there was one at the Hall who did, and that one were John Hollands, the butler. It was more nor he could put up with, that any one of the servants should presume to go a different road from him, and refuse the ale when it went round at meals in the kitchen. So, as all his chaffing, and the chaffing of the other servants, couldn’t shake Jane, he was determined he’d make her smart for it. And there was something more than this too. I’ve said that Sir Lionel were a free sort of gentleman, fond of having lots of company; and of course the company wasn’t short of ale, and wine, and spirits; and so long as there was a plentiful stock in the cellar, the squire didn’t trouble himself to count bottles or barrels. He was not a man himself as drank to excess; he thought drunkenness a low, vulgar habit, and never encouraged it; but he spent his money freely, and those as lived in his family were never watched nor stinted. You may suppose, then, sir, as John Hollands had a fine time of it. He were cock of the walk in the servants’ hall, and no mistake. Eh, to see him at church on Sunday! What with his great red face, and his great red waistcoat, and his great watch-chain with a big bunch of seals at the end of it, I couldn’t help thinking sometimes as he looked a picture of ‘the devil and all his works, the pomps and vanity of this wicked world, and all the sinful lusts of the flesh,’ which the Catechism tells us to renounce.
“You may be sure such a man had a deal in his power; and so he had. And it wasn’t only the wine, beer, and spirits as he used pretty much as he liked. Eh! The waste that went on downstairs was perfectly frightful; and a pretty penny he and the cook made between ’em out of their master’s property, which they sold on the sly.
“Jane saw something of this, and longed to put a stop to it; but, poor thing, what could she really do? She did once take an opportunity of speaking her mind gently to the butler, when they happened to be alone, and tried to show him how wrong and wickedly he was acting. But all she got was, that he gave her back such a volley of oaths and curses as made her feel that it would be no use talking to him any more on the subject just then. And he weren’t content with merely abusing her; he threatened her besides as he’d make her see afore long what sort of paying off ‘sneaking spies’ usually got for their pains. And he kept his word.
“Lady Morville had got a favourite lady’s-maid, who came to her when Jane had been some years at the Hall. This maid were a stylish, dashing young woman, and had a tongue as would turn any way it was wanted. So she soon made herself so useful to her mistress that she was more like an equal than a servant. But she were a thoroughly unprincipled woman, and hated Jane almost as soon as she had set eyes on her. Now she were far too deep to do anything as would get herself into trouble. She might have robbed her ladyship in many ways; and so she did, but not by taking her jewels or anything of that sort. She would wheedle things out of her mistress in the slyest way. And then, too, Lady Morville would trust her to pay some of her bills for her; and then she’d manage to pop things into the account which my lady had never ordered, or she would alter the figures in such a way as to cheat her ladyship. And she hadn’t been long at the Hall, as you may suppose, before she and the butler became fast friends; and a pretty lot of robbery and mischief was carried on by them two. Jane couldn’t keep her eyes shut, so she saw many things she longed to expose to her mistress; but it would have been very difficult to bring the wrong-doings to light, even if Lady Morville had given her the opportunity of doing so—which she never did.
“Georgina—that were the name of the lady’s-maid—was fully aware, however, that Jane had her eyes upon her, and she was resolved to get her out of the way. But how was that to be done? For Jane bore a high character in the house, and her ladyship would not listen to any gossiping tales against her. Her mind was soon made up: a little talk with John Hollands, and the train was laid.
“Now, she could have taken a bit of jewellery from her mistress, and hidden it in Jane’s box, or among her things; and this was John Hollands’ idea, as Jane afterwards found out from another fellow-servant, who was sorry for her, and had overheard the two making up their plans together. But Georgina said: ‘No; that were a stale trick, and her ladyship might believe Jane’s positive assertion of innocence. She would manage it better than that.’ And so she did.