"There is no battle in prospect," he said; "our country does not want us to fight for it. No or is questioning or threatening our liberty. There is nothing to be done. We are only taking a walk. Keep your hand on the , captain, and slack the fire of that spirit. It is not wanted, the more's the pity."
"Take your own advice, doctor," was Shirley's response. To Caroline she murmured, "I'll borrow of imagination what reality will not give me. We are not soldiers—bloodshed is not my desire—or if we are, we are soldiers of the Cross. Time has rolled back some hundreds of years, and we are bound on a pilgrimage to Palestine. But no; that is too visionary. I need a sterner dream. We are Lowlanders of Scotland, following a captain up into the hills to hold a meeting out of the reach of troopers. We know that battle may follow prayer; and as we believe that in the worst issue of battle heaven must be our reward, we are ready and willing to redden the peat-moss with our blood. That music stirs my soul; it wakens all my life; it makes my heart beat—not with its daily pulse, but with a new, thrilling . I almost long for danger—for a faith, a land, or at least a lover to defend."
"Look, Shirley!" interrupted Caroline. "What is that red above Stilbro' Brow? You have keener sight than I. Just turn your eagle eye to it."
Miss Keeldar looked. "I see," she said; then added265 presently, "there is a line of red. They are soldiers—cavalry soldiers," she subjoined quickly. "They ride fast. There are six of them. They will pass us. No; they have turned off to the right. They saw our procession, and avoid it by making a circuit. Where are they going?"
"Perhaps they are only exercising their horses."
"Perhaps so. We see them no more now."
Mr. Helstone here .
"We shall pass through Royd Lane, to reach Nunnely Common by a short cut," said he.
And into the straits of Royd Lane they accordingly . It was very narrow—so narrow that only two could walk without falling into the ditch which ran along each side. They had gained the middle of it, when excitement became obvious in the clerical commanders. Boultby's spectacles and Helstone's Rehoboam were ; the curates nudged each other; Mr. Hall turned to the ladies and smiled.
"What is the matter?" was the demand.
He with his staff to the end of the lane before them. Lo and ! another, an , procession was there entering, headed also by men in black, and followed also, as they could now hear, by music.
"Is it our double?" asked Shirley, "our manifold ? Here is a card turned up."
"If you wanted a battle, you are likely to get one—at least of looks," whispered Caroline, laughing.
"They shall not pass us!" cried the curates unanimously; "we'll not give way!"
"Give way!" retorted Helstone sternly, turning round; "who talks of giving way? You, boys, mind what you are about. The ladies, I know, will be firm. I can trust them. There is not a churchwoman here but will stand her ground against these folks, for the honour of the Establishment.—What does Miss Keeldar say?"
"She asks what is it."
"The and Methodist schools, the Baptists, Independents, and Wesleyans, joined in unholy alliance, and turning purposely into this lane with the intention of our march and driving us back."
"Bad manners!" said Shirley, "and I hate bad manners. Of course, they must have a lesson."
"A lesson in politeness," suggested Mr. Hall, who was ever for peace; "not an example of rudeness."
266Old Helstone moved on. Quickening his step, he marched some yards in advance of his company. He had nearly reached the other leaders, when he who appeared to act as the hostile commander-in-chief—a large, man, with black hair combed flat on his forehead—called a halt. The procession paused. He drew a book, gave out a verse, set a , and they all struck up the most of canticles.
Helstone signed to his bands. They clashed out with all the power of . He desired them to play "Rule, Britannia!" and ordered the children to join in , which they did with enthusiastic spirit. The enemy was sung and stormed down, his . As far as noise went, he was conquered.
"Now, follow me!" exclaimed Helstone; "not at a run, but at a firm, smart pace. Be steady, every child and woman of you. Keep together. Hold on by each other's skirts, if necessary."
And he strode on with such a and deliberate gait, and was, besides, so well seconded by his scholars and teachers, who did exactly as he told them, neither running nor , but marching with cool, solid impetus—the curates, too, being compelled to do the same, as they were between two fires, Helstone and Miss Keeldar, both of whom watched any with lynx-eyed vigilance, and were ready, the one with his , the other with her parasol, to the slightest of orders, the least independent or irregular demonstration—that the body of were first amazed, then alarmed, then borne down and pressed back, and at last forced to turn tail and leave the from Royd Lane free. Boultby suffered in the onslaught, but Helstone and Malone, between them, held him up, and brought him through the business, whole in limb, though sorely tried in wind.
The fat who had given out the hymn was left sitting in the ditch. He was a spirit merchant by trade, a leader of the Nonconformists, and, it was said, drank more water in that one afternoon than he had swallowed for a twelvemonth before. Mr. Hall had taken care of Caroline, and Caroline of him. He and Miss Ainley made their own quiet comments to each other afterwards on the incident. Miss Keeldar and Mr. Helstone shook hands when they had fairly got the whole party through the lane. The curates began to , but Mr. Helstone267 presently put the on their innocent spirits. He remarked that they never had sense to know what to say, and had better hold their tongues; and he reminded them that the business was none of their managing.
About half-past three the procession turned back, and at four once more the starting-place. Long lines of benches were arranged in the close-shorn fields round the school. There the children were seated, and huge baskets, covered up with white cloths, and great smoking tin were brought out. Ere the distribution of good things commenced, a brief grace was pronounced by Mr. Hall and sung by the children. Their young voices sounded , even , in the open air. Large currant buns and hot, well-sweetened tea were then administered in the proper spirit of liberality. No was permitted on this day, at least; the rule for each child's allowance being that it was to have about twice as much as it could possibly eat, thus leaving a reserve to be carried home for such as age, sickness, or other impediment prevented from coming to the feast. Buns and beer circulated, meantime, amongst the musicians and church-singers; afterwards the benches were removed, and they were left to unbend their spirits in play.
A bell summoned the teachers, patrons, and patronesses to the schoolroom. Miss Keeldar, Miss Helstone, and many other ladies were already there, glancing over the arrangement of their separate trays and tables. Most of the female servants of the neighbourhood, together with the clerks', the singers', and the musicians' wives, had been pressed into the service of the day as waiters. Each vied with the other in smartness and daintiness of dress, and many handsome forms were seen amongst the younger ones. About half a score were cutting bread and butter, another half-score supplying hot water, brought from the of the rector's kitchen. The of flowers and decorating the white walls, the show of silver teapots and bright on the tables, the active figures, faces, gay dresses flitting about everywhere, formed altogether a and lively spectacle. Everybody talked, not very loudly, but merrily, and the canary birds sang in their high-hung cages.
Caroline, as the rector's niece, took her place at one of the three first tables; Mrs. Boultby and Margaret Hall officiated at the others. At these tables the élite of the268 company were to be entertained, strict rules of equality not being more in fashion at Briarfield than elsewhere. Miss Helstone removed her and scarf, that she might be less oppressed with the heat. Her long curls, falling on her neck, served almost in place of a veil; and for the rest, her muslin dress was fashioned modestly as a nun's robe, enabling her thus to with the of a shawl.
The room was filling. Mr. Hall had taken his post beside Caroline, who now, as she rearranged the cups and spoons before her, whispered to him in a low voice remarks on the events of the day. He looked a little grave about what had taken place in Royd Lane, and she tried to smile him out of his seriousness. Miss Keeldar sat near—for a wonder, neither laughing nor talking; on the contrary, very still, and gazing round her . She seemed afraid lest some intruder should take a seat she wished to reserve next her own. Ever and anon she spread her satin dress over an portion of the bench, or laid her gloves or her handkerchief upon it. Caroline noticed this manège at last, and asked her what friend she expected. Shirley bent towards her, almost touched her ear with her lips, and whispered with a musical softness that often characterized her tones when what she said tended even remotely to stir some sweet secret source of feeling in her heart, "I expect Mr. Moore. I saw him last night, and I made him promise to come with his sister, and to sit at our table. He won't fail me, I feel certain; but I his coming too late, and being separated from us. Here is a fresh arriving; every place will be taken. Provoking!"
In fact, Mr. Wynne the , his wife, his son, and his two daughters now entered in high state. They were Briarfield . Of course their place was at the first table, and being conducted , they filled up the whole remaining space. For Miss Keeldar's comfort, Mr. Sam Wynne inducted himself into the very she had kept for Moore, planting himself solidly on her gown, her gloves, and her handkerchief. Mr. Sam was one of the objects of her aversion, and the more so because he showed serious symptoms of an aim at her hand. The old gentleman, too, had publicly declared that the Fieldhead estate and the De Walden estate were contagious—a which had not failed to repeat to Shirley.
269Caroline's ears yet rung with that thrilling whisper, "I expect Mr. Moore," her heart yet beat and her cheek yet glowed with it, when a note from the organ above the confused hum of the place. Dr. Boultby, Mr. Helstone, and Mr. Hall rose, so did all present, and grace was sung to the accompaniment of the music; and then tea began. She was kept too busy with her office for a while to have leisure for looking round, but the last cup being filled, she threw a restless glance over the room. There were some ladies and several gentlemen about yet unaccommodated with seats. Amidst a group she recognized her spinster friend, Miss Mann, whom the fine weather had , or some urgent friend had persuaded, to leave her drear for one hour of social . Miss Mann looked tired of standing; a lady in a yellow bonnet brought her a chair. Caroline knew well that chapeau en satin jaune; she knew the black hair, and the though rather opinionated and froward-looking face under it; she knew that robe de soie noire, she knew even that schall gris de lin; she knew, in short, Hortense Moore, and she wanted to jump up and run to her and kiss her—to give her one embrace for her own sake and two for her brother's. She half rose, indeed, with a , and perhaps—for the impulse was very strong—she would have run across the room and actually her; but a hand replaced her in her seat, and a voice behind her whispered, "Wait till after tea, Lina, and then I'll bring her to you."
And when she could look up she did, and there was Robert himself close behind, smiling at her eagerness, looking better than she had ever seen him look—looking, indeed, to her partial eyes, so very handsome that she dared not trust herself to hazard a second glance; for his image struck on her vision with painful brightness, and pictured itself on her memory as as if there daguerreotyped by a pencil of keen lightning.
He moved on, and spoke to Miss Keeldar. Shirley, irritated by some unwelcome attentions from Sam Wynne, and by the fact of that gentleman being still seated on her gloves and handkerchief—and probably, also, by Moore's want of punctuality—was by no means in good humour. She first her shoulders at him, and then she said a bitter word or two about his "insupportable ." Moore neither apologized nor retorted. He stood near her270 quietly, as if waiting to see whether she would recover her temper; which she did in little more than three minutes, indicating the change by offering him her hand. Moore took it with a smile, half-corrective, half-grateful. The slightest possible shake of the head delicately marked the former quality; it is probable a gentle pressure indicated the latter.
"You may sit where you can now, Mr. Moore," said Shirley, also smiling. "You see there is not an inch of room for you here; but I discern plenty of space at Mrs. Boultby's table, between Miss Armitage and Miss Birtwhistle. Go! John Sykes will be your vis-à-vis, and you will sit with your back towards us."
Moore, however, preferred lingering about where he was. He now and then took a turn down the long room, pausing in his walk to interchange greetings with other gentlemen in his own placeless predicament; but still he came back to the magnet, Shirley, bringing with him, each time he returned, observations it was necessary to whisper in her ear.
Meantime poor Sam Wynne looked far from comfortable. His fair neighbour, judging from her movements, appeared in a mood the most unquiet and unaccommodating. She would not sit still two seconds. She was hot; she fanned herself; complained of want of air and space. She remarked that, in her opinion, when people had finished their tea they ought to leave the tables, and announced distinctly that she expected to faint if the present state of things continued. Mr. Sam offered to accompany her into the open air; just the way to give her her death of cold, she . In short, his post became untenable; and having swallowed his quantum of tea, he judged it to .
Moore should have been at hand, whereas he was quite at the other of the room, deep in conference with Christopher Sykes. A large corn-factor, Timothy Ramsden, Esq., happened to be nearer; and feeling himself tired of standing, he advanced to fill the vacant seat. Shirley's did not fail her. A sweep of her scarf upset her teacup: its contents were shared between the bench and her own satin dress. Of course, it became necessary to call a waiter to remedy the . Mr. Ramsden, a , puffy gentleman, as large in person as he was in property, held from the consequent . Shirley, usually almost indifferent to slight accidents affecting dress, etc., now made a commotion that might have become the most delicate and nervous of her271 sex. Mr. Ramsden opened his mouth, withdrew slowly, and, as Miss Keeldar again intimated her intention to "give way" and swoon on the spot, he turned on his heel, and beat a heavy retreat.
Moore at last returned. Calmly surveying the , and somewhat quizzically scanning Shirley's enigmatical-looking , he remarked that in truth this was the hottest end of the room, that he found a climate there calculated to agree with none but cool like his own; and putting the waiters, the napkins, the satin robe—the whole , in short—to one side, he installed himself where destiny evidently decreed he should sit. Shirley ; her features altered their lines; the raised knit brow and curve of the mouth became straight again; and roguery gave place to other expressions; and all the angular movements with which she had
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