It was already evening,when,having each contributed our quota,great or small,to the entertainment,we all came and sat on the long bench under the walnut-tree.The sun went down red behind us,throwing a last glint on the upland field,where,from top to bottom,the young men and women were running in a long "Thread-the-needle."Their voices and laughter came fairly down to us.
"I think they have had a happy day,John.They will work all the better to-morrow.""I am quite sure of it."
"So am I,"said Guy,who had been acting the young master all day,condescendingly stating his will and giving his opinion on every subject,greatly petted and looked up to by all,to the no small amusement of us elders.
"Why,my son?"asked the father,smiling.
But here Master Guy was posed,and everybody laughed at him.He coloured up with childish anger,and crept nearer his mother.She made a place for him at her side,looking appealingly at John.
"Guy has got out of his depth--we must help him into safe waters again,"said the father."Look here,my son,this is the reason--and it is well not to be 'quite sure'of a thing unless one knows the reason.Our people will work the better,because they will work from love.Not merely doing their duty,and obeying their master in a blind way,but feeling an interest in him and all that belongs to him;knowing that he feels the same in them.Knowing,too,that although,being their superior in many things,he is their master and they his servants,he never forgets that saying,which I read out of the Bible,children,this morning:'ONE IS YOUR MASTER--EVEN CHRIST,AND ALL YE ARE BRETHREN.'Do you understand?"I think they did,for he was accustomed to talk with them thus--even beyond their years.Not in the way of preachifying--for these little ones had in their childish days scarcely any so-called "religious instruction,"save the daily chapter out of the New Testament,and the father and mother's daily life,which was a simple and literal carrying out of the same.To that one test was brought all that was thought,or said,or done,in our household,where it often seemed as if the Master were as visibly obeyed and followed as in the household which He loved at Bethany.
As to what doctrinal creed we held,or what sect we belonged to,Ican give but the plain answer which John gave to all such inquiries--that we were CHRISTIANS.
After these words from the Holy Book (which the children always listened to with great reverence,as to the Book which their parents most loved and honoured,the reading and learning of which was granted as a high reward and favour,and never carelessly allowed,or--horrible to think!--inflicted as a punishment),we ceased smiling at Guy,who in his turn ceased to frown.The little storm blew over,as our domestic storms usually did,leaving a clear,free heaven.
Loving one another,of course we quarrelled sometimes;but we always made it up again,because we loved one another.
"Father,I hear the click of the gate.There's somebody coming,"said Muriel.
The father paused in a great romp with his sons--paused,as he ever did when his little daughter's soft voice was heard."'Tis only a poor boy--who can he be?""One of the folk that come for milk most likely--but we have none to give away to-day.What do you want,my lad?"The lad,who looked miserable and scared,opened his mouth with a stupid "Eh?"Ursula repeated the question.
"I wants Jacob Baines."
"You'll find him with the rest,in front of that hay-rick,over his pipe and ale."The lad was off like a shot.
"He is from Kingswell,I think.Can anything be the matter,John?""I will go and see.No,boys,no more games--I will be back presently."He went,apparently rather anxious--as was easy to find out by only a glance at the face of Ursula.Soon she rose and went after him.Ifollowed her.
We saw,close by the hay-rick,a group of men,angrily talking.The gossiping mothers were just joining them.Far off,in the field,the younger folk were still dancing merrily down their long line of "Thread-the-needle."As we approached,we heard sobbing from one or two women,and loud curses from the men.
"What's amiss?"said Mr.Halifax,as he came in the midst--and both curses and sobbings were silenced.All began a confused tale of wrongs."Stop,Jacob--I can't make it out.""This lad ha'seen it all.And he bean't a liar in big things--speak up,Billy."Somehow or other,we extracted the news brought by ragged Billy,who on this day had been left in charge of the five dwellings rented of Lord Luxmore.During the owners'absence there had been a distraint for rent;every bit of the furniture was carried off;two or three aged and sick folk were left lying on the bare floor--and the poor families here would have to go home to nothing but their four walls.
Again,at repetition of the story,the women wept and the men swore.
"Be quiet,"said Mr.Halifax again.But I saw that his honest English blood was boiling within him."Jem"--and Jem Watkins started,so unusually sharp and commanding was his master's tone--"Saddle the mare--quick.I shall ride to Kingswell,and thence to the sheriff's.""God bless 'ee,sir!"sobbed Jacob Baines'widowed daughter-in-law,who had left,as I overheard her telling Mrs.Halifax,a sick child to-day at home.
Jacob Baines took up a heavy knobbed stick which happened to be leaning against the hay-rick,and eyed it with savage meaning.
"Who be they as has done this,master?"
"Put that bludgeon down,Jacob."
The man hesitated--met his master's determined eye--and obeyed him,meek as a lamb.
"But what is us to do,sir?"
