Part 85 (1/2)
Then she said: ”Begin by putting on your bonnet, and visiting with me.
Come with one who is herself thwarted in the carnal affections; come with her and see how sick some are, and we two in health; how racked with pain some are, and we two at ease; how hungry some, and we have abundance; and, above all, in what spiritual deserts some lie, while we walk in the Gospel light.”
”Oh that I had the strength,” said Julia; ”I'll try.”
She put on her bonnet, and went down with her friend; but at the street door the strange feeling of shame overpowered her; she blushed and trembled, and begged to subst.i.tute the garden for the road. Jane consented, and said everything must have a beginning.
The fresh air, the bursting buds, and all the face of nature, did Julia good, and she felt it. ”You little angel,” said she, with something of her old impetuosity, ”you have saved me. I was making myself worse by shutting myself up in that one miserable room.”
They walked hand in hand for a good half hour, and then Jane said she must go; papa would miss her. Julia was sorry to part with her, and almost without thinking, accompanied her through the house to the front gate; and that was another point gained. ”I never was so sorry to part with you, love,” said she. ”When will you come again? We leave to-morrow. I am selfish to detain you; but it seems as if my guardian angel was leaving me.”
Jane smiled. ”I must go,” said she, ”but I'll leave better angels than I am behind me. I leave you this: 'Humble yourself under the mighty hand of G.o.d!' When it seems most harsh, then it is most loving. Pray for faith to say with me, 'Lead us by a way that we know not.'”
They kissed one another, and Julia stood at the gate and looked lovingly after her, with the tears standing thick in her own violet eyes.
Now Maxley was coming down the road, all grizzly and bloodshot, baited by the boys, who had gradually swelled in number as he drew nearer the town.
Jane was shocked at their heathenish cruelty, and went off the path to remonstrate with them.
On this, Maxley fell upon her, and began beating her about the head and shoulders with his heavy stick.
The miserable boys uttered yells of dismay, but did nothing.
Julia uttered a violent scream, but flew to her friend's aid, and crying, ”Oh you wretch! you wretch!” actually caught the man by the throat and shook him violently. He took his hand off Jane Hardie, who instantly sank moaning on the ground, and he cowered like a cur at the voice and the purple gleaming eyes of the excited girl.
The air filled with cries, and Edward ran out of the house to see what was the matter; but on the spot n.o.body was game enough to come between the furious man and the fiery girl. The consequence was, her impetuous courage began to flag and her eye to waver; the demented man found this out by some half animal instinct, and instantly caught her by the shoulder and whirled her down on her knees; then raised his staff high to destroy her.
She screamed, and was just putting up her hands, womanlike, not to see her death as well as feel it, when something dark came past her like a rus.h.i.+ng wind--a blow, that sounded exactly like that of a paving ram, caught Maxley on the jaw: and there was Edward Dodd blowing like a grampus with rage, and Maxley on his back in the road. But men under cerebral excitement are not easily stunned, and know no pain: he bounded off the ground, and came at Edward like a Spanish bull. Edward slipped aside, and caught him another ponderous blow that sent him staggering, and his bludgeon flew out of his hand, and Edward caught it. Lo! the maniac flew at him again more fiercely than ever; but the young Hercules had seen Jane bleeding on the ground: he dealt her a.s.sailant in full career such a murderous stroke with the bludgeon, that the people, who were running from all quarters, shrieked with dismay--not for Jane, but for Maxley; and well they might; that awful stroke laid him senseless, motionless and mute, in a pool of his own blood.
”Don't kill him, sir; don't kill the man,” was the cry.
”Why not?” said Edward sternly. He then kneeled over his sweetheart and lifted her in his arms like a child. Her bonnet was all broken, her eyes were turned upwards and set, and a little blood trickled down her cheek; and that cheek seemed streaked white and red.
He was terrified, agonised; yet he gasped out, ”You are safe, dear; don't be frightened.”
She knew the voice.
”Oh, Edward!” she said piteously and tenderly, and then moaned a little on his broad bosom. He carried her into the house out of the crowd.
Poor old doctor Phillips, coming in to end his days in the almshouse, had seen it all: he got out of his cart and hobbled up. He had been in the army, and had both experience and skill. He got her bonnet off, and at sight of her head looked very grave.
In a minute a bed was laid in the drawing-room, and all the windows and doors open: and Edward, trembling now in every limb, ran to Musgrove Cottage, while Mrs. Dodd and Julia loosened the poor girl's dress, and bathed her wounds with tepid water (the doctor would not allow cold), and put wine carefully to her lips with a teaspoon.
”Wanted at your house, pray what for?” said Mr. Hardie superciliously.
”Oh, sir,” said Edward, ”such a calamity. Pray come directly. A ruffian has struck her, has hurt her terribly, terribly.”
”Her! Who?” asked Mr. Hardie, beginning to be uneasy.
”Who! why Jane, your daughter, man; and there you sit chattering, instead of coming at once.”