Part 18 (1/2)
Looking at him, I saw that he was haggard and strange, and had not the confidence that was his formerly.
”There has been a rising there,” I answered him, ”and trouble among many?”
”Much trouble,” he said with gloom. Then he fell to telling me how such of the neighbours were dead, and others were in hiding, while there were still more that went about their work in fear for their lives, lest any should inform against them.
”Your father's brother was taken on Sedgemoor with a pike in his hand,”
he added, ”and your father has been busy ever since, raising money to buy his pardon--for they say that money can do much.”
”That is ill news, indeed,” I said.
”I have come to London on my own affairs, and been to seek you at your cousin Alstree's. When I learnt of the trouble that had befallen I followed you to this house, and right glad I am that you are safe with so good a woman as Mrs. Gaunt.”
”But why should you be in London when the whole countryside at home is in gaol or in mourning? Have you no friend to help? Did you sneak away to be out of it all?” I asked with the silly petulance of a maid that knows nothing and will say anything.
”Yes,” he said, hanging his head like one ashamed, ”I sneaked away to be out of it all.”
It vexed me to see him so, and I went on in a manner that it pleased me little afterwards to remember. ”You, that talked so of the Protestant cause! you, that were ready to fight against Popery! you were not one of those that marched for Bristol or fought at Sedgemoor?”
”No,” he said, ”I did neither of these things.”
”Yet you have run away from the sight of your neighbours' trouble--lest, I suppose, you should anyways be involved in it. Well, 'twas a man's part!”
He was about to answer me when we both started to hear a sound in the house. There was a foot on the stairs that I knew well. Tom turned aside and listened, for we had now withdrawn to the kitchen.
”That is a man's tread,” he said; ”I thought you lived alone with Mrs.
Elizabeth Gaunt.”
”Mrs. Gaunt spends her life in good works,” I answered, ”and shows kindness to others beside me.”
I raised my voice in hopes that the man might hear me and come no nearer, but the stupid fellow had waxed so confident that he came right in and stood amazed.
[Sidenote: ”You!”]
”You!” he said; and Tom answered, ”You!”
So they stood and glared at one another.
”I thought you were in a safe place,” said Tom, swinging round to me.
”She is in no danger from me,” said the man.
”Are you so foolish as to think so?” asked Tom.
”If you keep your mouth shut she is in no danger,” was the answer.
”That may be,” said Tom. Yet he turned to me and said, ”You must come away from here.”
”I have nowhere to go to--and I will not leave Mrs. Gaunt.”