Part 44 (2/2)
”And now tell me, Tremayne, what shall I do with this lad?”
”I am afeared, Sir Thomas, you shall find it hard matter to deal with him.”
”Good lack, these lads and la.s.ses!” groaned poor Sir Thomas. ”They do wear a man's purse--ay, and his heart. Marry, but I do trust I gave no such thought and sorrow to my father! Yet in very deed my care for the future pa.s.seth it for the past. If Jack go on thus, what shall the end be?”
Mr Tremayne shook his head.
”Can you help me to any argument that shall touch the lad's heart?”
”Argument ne'er touched a man's heart yet,” said the Rector. ”That is but for the head. There is but one thing that will touch the heart to any lasting purpose; and that is, the quickening grace of G.o.d the Holy Ghost.”
”Nay, all they seem to drift further away from Him,” sighed the father sadly.
”My good friend, it may seem so to you, mainly because yourself are coming nearer.”
Sir Thomas shook his head sorrowfully.
”Nay, for I ne'er saw me to be such a sinner as of late I have. You call not that coming nearer G.o.d?”
”Ay, but it is!” said Mr Tremayne. ”Think you, friend; you _were_ such a sinner all your life long, though it be only now that, thanks to G.o.d, you see it. And I do in very deed hope and trust that you have this true sight of yourself because the Lord hath touched your eyes with the ointment of His grace. Maybe you are somewhat like as yet unto him whose eyen Christ touched, that at first he could not tell betwixt men and trees. The Lord is not like to leave His miracle but half wrought.
He will perfect that which He hath begun.”
”G.o.d grant it!” said Sir Thomas feelingly. ”But tell me, what can I do for Jack? I would I had listed you and Rachel, and had not sent him to London. Sir Piers, and Orige, and the lad himself, o'er-persuaded me.
I rue it bitterly; but howbeit, what is done is done. The matter is, what to do now?”
”The better way, methinks, should be that you left him to smart for it himself, an' you so could.”
”Jack will ne'er smart for aught,” said his father. ”Were I to stay his allowance, he should but run into further debt, ne'er doubting to pay the same somewhen and somehow. The way and the time he should leave to chance. I see nought but ruin before the lad. He hath learned over ill lessons in the Court,--of honour which is clean contrary to common honesty, and courtesy which standeth not with plain truth.”
”Ay, the Devil can well glose,” [flatter, deceive] said Mr Tremayne sadly.
”The lad hath no conscience!” added Sir Thomas. ”With all this, he laugheth and singeth as though nought were on his mind. Good lack! but if I had done as he, I had been miserable thereafter. I conceive not such conditions.”
”I conceive them, for I have seen them aforetime. But I would not have such a conscience for the worth of the Queen's Mint.”
Indeed, Jack did seem perfectly happy. His appet.i.te, sleep, and spirits, were totally unaffected by his circ.u.mstances. Clare, to whom this anomaly seemed preposterous, one day asked him if he were happy.
”Happy?” repeated Jack. ”For sure! Wherefore no?”
Clare did not tell him.
One evening in the week of Jack's return, to the surprise of all, in walked Mr John Feversham. He did not seem to have much to say, except that Uncle Piers and Aunt Lucrece were well. In fact, he never had much to say. Nor did he think it necessary to state what had brought him to Lancas.h.i.+re. He was asked to remain, of course, to which he a.s.sented, and slipped into his place with a quiet ponderosity which seemed to belong to him.
”An oaken yule-log had as much sense, and were quicker!” [livelier]
said Jack aside to Blanche.
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