Perlycross: A Tale of the Western Hills

"They are dummies," answered Christie, just waving her hand, and then stopping it, as if they were not worth the trouble. "I don't mean them. They could never lead opinion. I mean people of intelligence, or at any rate of influence."

"Well really I don't know any of that sort, who have gone against me openly. Such people generally wait to hear both sides, unless their duty drags them into it. Both the Churchwardens are against me, I believe. But that must be chiefly, because they saw with their own wise eyes what had been done. You know, or perhaps you don't, but I do, what an effect is produced on the average mind by the sight of anything. Reason seems to fly, and the judgment is lost. But Horner is a very decent fellow, and I have been of some service to his family. Farrant is a man of great honesty and sense; but carried away perhaps for the moment. I hear that he is coming round to my side."

"Then I won't put down either of them. But come, there must be some one at the head of it."

"Upon my word, I don't think there is. Or if there is, he keeps quite in the background. It seems to be rather a general conclusion, than any conspiracy against me. That makes it so much harder to contend with. One proof of what I say is, that there has been no further application for a warrant, since Mr. Mockham's refusal. If there were any bitter enemy, he would never have been content with that."

"I am not so sure of that," replied sage Christie, longing for a foe more definite; "I am not of course a lawyer, though papa was a Magistrate before I was born, and ever since; and that gives me a great deal of insight. And I have come to the conclusion that there is some one, besides those poor little pill-grinders – you see what comes of taking to the pill-box, Jemmy – some one of a hateful nature, and low cunning, who is working in the dark against you. The mischief has been done, and they know that; and they don't want to give you any chance of putting your own case clearly, and confounding them. You see that reel of silk now, don't you?"

"I see about fifty. What a child you are! Are you going to decorate a doll's house?"

"I never lose my temper with you, dear Jemmy, because you are so stupid. But if you can't see the force of it, I can. That reel of silk is an honest reel, a reel you know how to deal with. The end is tucked into a nick at the side, and you set to at once and thread your needle. But the one next to it is a rogue – same colour, same size, same everything, except that the maker has hidden the end, to hide his own short measure, so that you may hunt for it for half an hour. Even a man can see that, can't he? Very well, apply that to this frightful affair. If your enemies would only come forward, they would give you a chance to clear yourself. You would get hold of the end and unwind it, just as I bite off this knot. There! What can be easier than that, I'd like to know?"

"You are very clever, Christie, but you don't see the real difficulty. Who would believe my denial on oath, any more than they would without it? I can offer no witness except myself. The man at the pits would avail me nothing, even if I could get hold of him. There was plenty of time after I left him, for me to have been in the thick of it. I can prove no alibi. I have only my word, to show that I was in this house while the miscreants were at work. It is the blackest piece of luck, that poor George was so tipsy, and old Betty was so buried in slumber. It is no good to deceive ourselves, my dear. I shall never be cleared of this foul charge, till the fellows who did the thing are found out."

This was what Jemmy had felt all along; and no one knew better than himself, how nearly impossible it is to bring such criminals to justice. But his sister was not to be discouraged.

"Oh, as for that, I shall just do this. I have money of my own, or at least I shall have plenty of it, when I come of age next year. I'll find out the cleverest lawyer about here, a man who is able to enter into rogues, and I'll make him advertise a great reward, and promise him the same for himself, if he succeeds. That is the only way to make them look sharp. A thousand pounds will be sure to tempt the poor dirty villains who must have been employed; and a thousand pounds will tempt a good lawyer to sell his own wife and family. Free pardon to every one, except the instigator. I wonder that you never even thought of that."

"I did think of it long ago. It is the first thing that occurs to an Englishman, in any case of wrong-doing. But it would be useless here. I heard much of these cases when I was a student. They are far more frequent than the outer world supposes. But I won't talk about it. It would only make you nervous. It is not a thing for girls to dwell upon."

"I know that very well. I don't want to dwell upon it. Only tell me, why even a large reward would not be of any service."

"Because there is only a very small gang; and a traitor would never live to get his money. Rewards have been tried, but vainly, except in one case, and then the end was dreadful. For the most part, the villains manage so well that no one ever dreams of what has happened. In the present case, though a most daring one, the villainy would scarcely have been discovered, except for the poor little faithful dog. If she had been killed and thrown into the river, perhaps nothing would ever have been heard of it."

"Oh, Jemmy, what a dreadful thing to say! But surely you forget the blacksmith?"

"Not at all. His story would have come to nothing, without this to give it special meaning. Even as it is, no connexion has been proved, though of course there is a strong presumption, between the affair at Susscot, and the crime at Perlycross. There was nothing to show where the cart came from. Those fellows travel miles with them, these long nights. There is an old chapelyard at Monkswell, more than a mile from any house, and I firmly believe – but I will not talk about it."

"Then you know who did this! Oh, Jemmy, Jemmy, is it some horrible secret of your trade?" Christie leaped up, and away from her brother.

"I know nothing, except that it happened. I have not the least idea who the scoundrel is. Now no more of this – or you won't sleep to-night."

"I am not a coward – for a girl at least. But this is a dark and lonely house. I shall have my bed put against the partition of your room, before ever I go into it this night. Then you can hear me knock, if I get frightened."

Miss Fox sat down, and leaned her head upon her hands for a moment, as in deep meditation upon the wrongs of humanity; and then she announced the result of her thoughts.

"One thing is certain. Even you cannot deny it. If the Government of this Country allows such frightful things to be done, it is bound to provide every woman in the land with a husband to protect her, or at any rate to keep her courage up. If I had seen that cart at Susscot, I should have died with terror."

"Not you. But I must make one rule, I see; and you know there are times when I will be obeyed. You have come here, my dear child, with the greatest kindness, and no small courage as well, just to keep up my spirits, and console me in this trouble. I would never have let you come, if I had known it; and now I will not have your health endangered. Back you go, this very day, sad as I shall be without you, unless you promise me two things. One is that you will avoid these subjects, although you may talk of my position. And the other is, that you will not stir from this house, except in my company; and when you are with me, you will be totally unconscious of anything anybody says, or looks, – uncivil, unpleasant, or even uncordial. You understand now, that I am in earnest."

Fox struck his solid legs into a stiff position, and crested up his whiskers with his finger-tips; which action makes a very fine impression on a young man's younger sister.

"Very well, I agree to all of that;" said Christie, a little too airily for one who is impressed with an engagement. "But one thing I must have, before we begin the new code. Here are my tablets. As you won't tell the names of your enemies, Jemmy, I must have the names of your friends to set down. It won't require many lines, I fear, you gentle Jemmy."

"Won't it? Why all the good people about here are on my side, every one of them. First, and best of them all, Philip Penniloe. And then, Mr. Mockham the Magistrate, and then Sergeant Jakes, the schoolmaster. And after him, Thyatira Muggridge, a person of considerable influence, because she takes hot meat, or pudding, in a basin, to half the old women in the village, whenever her master can afford it, and can't get through all of it. That is how they put it, in their grateful way. But it strengthens their tongues against his enemies, and they seem to know them – though he doesn't. Well, then there is Farrant, the junior Churchwarden, coming round fast to my side. And Baker, the cooper, who made me a tub for salting my last pig; and Channing – not the clerk, he is neutral still, but will rally to my side when I pay him twelve shillings, as I shall do to-morrow, for a pair of corduroys – but Channing the baker, a notable man, with a wife who knows everything about it, because she saw a dark man over the wall last summer, and he would not give his name. She has caused a reaction already, and is confident of being right, because she got upon a pair of steps. Oh you must not imagine that I am forlorn. And then there is Frank Gilham, last not least, a fine young fellow, and a thorough Englishman."

"I like that description. I hate foreigners – as a rule I mean of course," said Christie Fox, with a look of large candour, that proved what a woman of the world she was; "there may be good individuals among them, when they have come to know what home-life means; but take them altogether, they are really very queer. But surely we ought to know a little more, as to what it was Mrs. Baker Channing saw; and over the Churchyard wall, you say."

"Waste of time, Christie. Why it was back in August, when Harrison Gowler was staying here. And it was not the Churchyard wall at all, but the wall of the rectory garden, that she peeped over in the dark. It can have had nothing to do with it."

"I am not so sure of that. Things come out so oddly. You remember when my poor Flo was poisoned, how I found it out at last. I never left off. I wouldn't leave off. Prying, listening, tip-toeing, even spying, without any sense of shame. And I found it out at last – at last; and didn't I have my revenge? Oh, I would have hanged that woman, if the law had been worth a farthing, and stuck her all over with needles and pins."

"You spiteful, and meanly vindictive little creature! But you never found it out by yourself, after all. It came out quite by accident."

"Well, and so will this. You take my word. I dare say I am stupid, but I always prove right. Yet we are bound to use the means of grace, as they tell us in every blessed sermon. Oh come, I may go and see your pet parson. I'll be bound, I shall not care for him, an atom of an atom. I hate those perfect people; they are such a slur upon one. I like a good minister, who rides to hounds in pink, and apologises to the ladies, every time he swears. But, come, brother Jemmy, are there no more friends? I have put down all you mentioned, and the list looks very short. There must be a few more, for the sake of Christianity."

"To be sure, there is one more, and a frightfully zealous one – certain to do more harm than good. A mere boy, though he flies into a fury at the word. Mr. Penniloe's new pupil – preparing for the church, by tearing all across the country. He breaks down all the hedges, and he drives the sheep-dogs mad. He is mad as a March-hare himself, by all accounts; but everybody likes him. His name is Horatio Peckover, but everybody calls him 'Hopper,' by syncope, as we used to say at school. One of his fellow-pupils, young Pike, who is a very steady-going young fellow, and a fine rising fisherman, told me that Hopper is double-jointed; and they believe it devoutly. They tied him on a chair at his own request, the other day, in order that he might learn his lessons. But that only made him worse than ever; for he capered round the room, chair and all, until Mr. Penniloe sent to ask who was churning butter."

"What a blessing that boy must be in a sick house! But what has made him take up our case, Jemmy?"

"The demand of his nature for violent motion. Every day of his life, except Sunday, he scours the country for miles around. On foot, mind – not on horseback, which one could understand. Moreover, he is hot in my favour, because he comes from somewhere near Wincaunton, and is a red hot 'Zon ov' Zummerzet,' and contemptuous of Devon. But it is not for me to enquire into motives. I shall want every single friend I can scrape together, if what I heard, this morning is anything like true. You asked me last night, what Lady Waldron thought."

"To be sure, I did. It seemed most important. But now," continued Christie, as she watched her brother's face, "there are reasons why I should scarcely attach so much weight to her opinion."

"The chief reason being that you see it is against me. Well, truly, you are a brave reasoner, my dear. But I fear that it is so. I am told that my name must never again be heard in the house, where once I was so welcome."

"Oh, I am rather glad of that. That will go a long way in our favour. I cannot tell how many times I have heard not from one, but from all who have met her, that she is a most unpleasant haughty person, even for a foreigner. It must lie very heavy on the poor woman's conscience, that everybody says she helped, by her nasty nature to shorten her poor husband's days. Possibly now – well, that throws a new light. What has happened may very well have been done at the order of some of his relatives, who knowing her character suspect foul play. And of course she would like to hear no more about it. You know all those foreigners, how pat they are with poison."

"What a grand thing it is to have a sister!" Fox exclaimed, looking with astonishment at Christie, who was quite excited with her new idea. "Better almost to have a sister than – than – I mean than any one else. I almost feared to tell you my last piece of news, because I thought that it must upset you so. And behold, it has greatly encouraged you! But remember, on no account must you drop a hint, even to our best friends, of your last brilliant idea. What frightful things flow into the sweetest little head!"

"Well, I don't see at all, why I should try to conceal it. I think it is a case for very grave suspicions. And if she spreads shameful reports about you, I'll soon let her know that two can play at that."

"Nonsense, my dear child. There is evidence against me. None, nor even a shadow of suspicion, against her. She loved Sir Thomas devotedly; and I always thought that jealousy was the cause of her coldness to his English friends. But to come to common sense again – what I heard to-day settles my doubts as to what I should do. Penniloe thought that I should call at Walderscourt; though he saw what a difficult thing it was to do, and rather referred it to my own decision. I shrank from it, more than I can describe. In fact, I could not bring myself to go; not for my own sake but for theirs. But this behaviour on her part puts a new aspect upon it. I feel myself bound, as an innocent man, to face her; however unpleasant it may be. It will only be the worse, for putting off. I shall go, this afternoon."

"I love to bring anything to a point. You are quite right;" replied Christie, with her bright colour rising, at the prospect of a brush; "Jemmy dear, let me come with you."

"Not quite, you gallant Chris! No such luck for me. Not that I want you to back me up. But still it would have been a comfort. But you know it is out of the question, for a stranger to call, at such a time.

"Well, I fear it is. Though I shouldn't mind that. But it would look very odd for you. Never mind; I won't be far away. You can leave me outside, and I will wait for you, somewhere in the shrubbery, if there is one. Not that I would dream of keeping out of sight. Only that they might be afraid to see me."

"They might reasonably fear it, if you looked as you do now. Ferocity does not improve the quality of your smile, dear. What will mother say, when you go home? And somebody else perhaps? Now, you need not blush. I have a very high opinion of him."

"Jemmy, I won't have it. Not another word! Get it out of your silly mind for ever. Men never understand such things. There's no romance in me, as Goodness knows. But you'll never catch me marrying a man with none of it in him."

"You are too young to think of such things yet. Though sometimes even younger girls – but come along, let us have a breath of fresh air, after all this melancholy talk. That footpath will take us up to Hagdon in ten minutes. You are eager to try our Old-Barn style of victualling, and it suits the system better than your long late dinners. We dine at two o'clock. Come and get an appetite."

A short sharp climb, and with their lungs expanded, they stood upon the breezy hill, and looked back at the valley. Before them rolled the sweep of upland, black in some places with bights of fired furze; but streaked with long alleys of tender green, where the flames had not fed, or the rains had wept them off. The soft western air, though the winter had held speech with it, kept enough of good will yet, to be a pleasant change for those who found their fellow-creatures easterly. And more than that, the solemn distance, and expanse of trackless grey, hovering with slow wings of sleepy vapour touched with sunshine, if there was no comfort in them, yet spread some enlargement. These things breathed a softer breath, as nature must (though it be unfelt) on young imaginations fluttering, like a wisp of brambled wool, in the bridle-paths, and stray sheep-walks of human trouble.

CHAPTER XVI.

LITTLE BILLY

When he has refreshed his memory with the map of England, let any man point out upon it, if he can deliberately, any two parishes he knows well, which he can also certify to be exactly like each other, in the character of their inhabitants. Do they ever take alike a startling piece of news, about their most important people? Do they weigh in the same balance the discourses of the parson, the merits of those in authority, or the endeavours of the rich to help them? If a stranger rides along the street, he is pretty sure to be stared at; but not with quite the same expression, as in the last village he came through. Each place has its own style, and tone, vein of sentiment, and lines of attitude, deepened perhaps by the lore and store of many generations.

For instance, Perlycombe, Perlycross, and Perliton, are but as three pearls on one string, all in a line, and contiguous. The string is the stream; which arising at the eastern extremity of Perlycombe parish, passes through the village, then westward through Perlycross, and westward still through the much larger village of Perliton. At Perlycombe it is a noisy little brook, at Perlycross a genial trout-stream – anon of glassy wanderings, anon of flickered hurry – ; while Perliton, by the time it gets there, entitles it "the River Perle," and keeps two boats upon it, which are not always more aground than landsmen should desire.

Now any one would fancy, that these three adjoining parishes would, in all their ways and manners, be as like each other as three peas vertebrated in one pod. But the fancy would prove that he was only fit for fiction, not for the clearer heights of history such as this. For these three parishes are quite as distinct, one from another, as all three taken together admit that they are, and deserve to be, from the rest of England.