Part 20 (2/2)
”Nay, you doan't mean to say you've turned teetotaler?”
”Ay, that I have,” replied the lad, ”you see I'm following the example of the King.” Whereupon Polly went away abashed.
All the way Tom's progress down Liverpool Road was a great procession of people. On every hand he was greeted and cheered. Other soldiers who had gone out from Brunford had returned; some had been wounded, and many had done brave deeds, but Tom's action had laid hold of the imagination of the people. To discover a German spy in Waterman, whom many in the town knew; to bring him to justice; to risk his life in order to render his country a service; to face almost certain death that he might obtain the plans which had been intended to help the enemy, made him a hero.
Perhaps there are few parts of the world where the people are more hearty and more generous than the dwellers in those busy manufacturing towns in the North, and Tom was their own townsboy. He had been reared amongst them, had gone out from them, and so they gave him a great welcome.
No words can tell the joy which Mrs. Pollard felt when she found that Tom was going straight home with her. As she said, she had got the best dinner in Brunford for him, but she was afraid that Tom would yield to all the inducements which would be held out to him.
”Never mind,” she said to the neighbour whom she had asked to get everything in readiness by the time she returned, ”we'll have everything as though we were sure he wur coming 'ome. n.o.body shall say as 'ow I didn't prepare a good dinner for my boy when he returned from the War.”
Thus when Tom had refused the invitation to go to the Rose and Crown, and declared his intention of going straight home, her joy knew no bounds.
”Dost 'a' really mean, Tom, as thou'rt coming straight home with thee feyther and me?”
”Ay, I do,” replied Tom, ”there's no place but home for me to-day.”
”Ay, then I mun kiss thee agean,” she sobbed, throwing her arms around his neck.
Throughout the whole of the afternoon and evening Ezekiel Pollard's house was besieged with visitors. Reporters came from the newspapers in order to hear any details which had been missed concerning Tom's exploits. Relations whom Tom had not seen for years came to bid him welcome, while the neighbours thronged the doors.
”Ay, it's good to be home again,” said Tom, standing on the doorstep and watching the last visitor depart that night, ”I never thought that it would be like this.”
”Art 'a' tired, lad?” asked his father.
”Just a bit,” said Tom. ”I couldn't sleep last night, I was thinking all the time about coming home, and now----”
”Ay, lad, I'm proud of thee,” said his father for the hundredth time.
”Thou art a fool, lad,” said his mother, ”but thou'rt noan such a fool as I feared. Thou'st done vary weel too, vary weel.”
”Father,” said Tom when they had entered the house and closed the door, ”do you ever pray now?”
”I hadna prayed for years,” said Ezekiel Pollard, ”till thou went to the Front, but every night sin' I have asked G.o.d to take care o' thee.
I have asked nowt for myself,” he added almost proudly. ”I didn't deserve it; but I've asked G.o.d to take care o' thee.”
”So have I,” said his mother. ”I never towd anybody about it; I wur a bit ashamed, I reckon, but I have prayed twenty times a day.”
”Then,” said Tom, ”let us kneel down and thank G.o.d for His goodness.”
And the three knelt down together.
CHAPTER XI
It was nearly midday when Tom awoke. The church bells had ceased ringing for nearly an hour, indeed at nearly all the churches the congregations were being dismissed. The Town Hall clock chimed a quarter to twelve, but all else seemed strangely silent. Tom rose in his bed, and rubbed his eyes.
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