muchof
it
.
But
it
does
seem
strange
that
no
other
amusement
can
be
found
for
them
than
the
beer-shop
.
Can’t
they
read
?
Can’t
they
practise
light
and
interesting
handicrafts
at
home
,
as
the
German
peasantry
do
?
’
‘Who’ll
teach
’em
,
sir
?
From
the
plough-tail
to
the
reaping-hook
,
and
back
again
,
is
all
they
know
.
Besides
,
sir
,
they
are
not
like
us
Cornish
;
they
are
a
stupid
pigheaded
generation
at
the
best
,
these
south
countrymen
.
They’re
grown-up
babies
who
want
the
parson
and
the
squire
to
be
leading
them
,
and
preaching
to
them
,
and
spurring
them
on
,
and
coaxing
them
up
,
every
moment
.
And
as
for
scholarship
,
sir
,
a
boy
leaves
school
at
nine
or
ten
to
follow
the
horses
;
and
between
that
time
and
his
wedding-day
he
forgets
every
word
he
ever
learnt
,
and
becomes
,
for
the
most
part
,
as
thorough
a
heathen
savage
at
heart
as
those
wild
Indians
in
the
Brazils
used
to
be.’
‘And
then
we
call
them
civilised
Englishmen
!
’
said
Lancelot
.
‘We
can
see
that
your
Indian
is
a
savage
,
because
he
wears
skins
and
feathers
;
but
your
Irish
cottar
or
your
English
labourer
,
because
he
happens
to
wear
a
coat
and
trousers
,
is
to
be
considered
a
civilised
man.’
‘It’s
the
way
of
the
world
,
sir
,
’
said
Tregarva
,
‘judging
carnal
judgment
,
according
to
the
sight
of
its
own
eyes
;
always
looking
at
the
outsides
of
things
and
men
,
sir
,
and
never
much
deeper
.
But
as
for
reading
,
sir
,
it’s
all
very
well
for
me
,
who
have
been
a
keeper
and
dawdled
about
like
a
gentleman
with
a
gun
over
my
arm
;
but
did
you
ever
do
a
good
day’s
farm-work
in
your
life
?
If
you
had
,
man
or
boy
,
you
wouldn’t
have
been
game
for
much
reading
when
you
got
home
;
you’d
do
just
what
these
poor
fellows
do
,
—
tumble
into
bed
at
eight
o’clock
,
hardly
waiting
to
take
your
clothes
off
,
knowing
that
you
must
turn
up
again
at
five
o’clock
the
next
morning
to
get
a
breakfast
of
bread
,
and
,
perhaps
,
a
dab
of
the
squire’s
dripping
,
and
then
back
to
work
again
;
and
so
on
,
day
after
day
,
sir
,
week
after
week
,
year
after
year
,
without
a
hope
or
a
chance
of
being
anything
but
what
you
are
,
and
only
too
thankful
if
you
can
get
work
to
break
your
back
,
and
catch
the
rheumatism
over.’
‘But
do
you
mean
to
say
that
their
labour
is
so
severe
and
incessant
?
’
‘It’s
only
God’s
blessing
if
it
is
incessant
,
sir
,
for
if
it
stops
,
they
starve
,
or
go
to
the
house
to
be
worse
fed
than
the
thieves
in
gaol
.
And
as
for
its
being
severe
,
there’s
many
a
boy
,
as
their
mothers
will
tell
you
,
comes
home
night
after
night
,
too
tired
to
eat
their
suppers
,
and
tumble
,
fasting
,
to
bed
in
the
same
foul
shirt
which
they’ve
been
working
in
all
the
day
,
never
changing
their
rag
of
calico
from
week’s
end
to
week’s
end
,
or
washing
the
skin
that’s
under
it
once
in
seven
years.’
‘No
wonder
,
’
said
Lancelot
,
‘that
such
a
life
of
drudgery
makes
them
brutal
and
reckless.’
‘No
wonder
,
indeed
,
sir
:
they’ve
no
time
to
think
;
they’re
born
to
be
machines
,
and
machines
they
must
be
;
and
I
think
,
sir
,
’
he
added
bitterly
,
‘it’s
God’s
mercy
that
they
daren’t
think
.
It’s
God’s
mercy
that
they
don’t
feel
.
Men
that
write
books
and
talk
at
elections
call
this
a
free
country
,
and
say
that
the
poorest
and
meanest
has
a
free
opening
to
rise
and
become
prime
minister
,
if
he
can
.
But
you
see
,
sir
,
the
misfortune
is
,
that
in
practice
he
can’t
;
for
one
who
gets
into
a
gentleman’s
family
,
or
into
a
little
shop
,
and
so
saves
a
few
pounds
,
fifty
know
that
they’ve
no
chance
before
them
,
but
day-labourer
born
,
day-labourer
live
,
from
hand
to
mouth
,
scraping
and
pinching
to
get
not
meat
and
beer
even
,
but
bread
and
potatoes
;
and
then
,
at
the
end
of
it
all
,
for
a
worthy
reward
,
half-a-crown
a-week
of
parish
pay
—
or
the
workhouse
.
That’s
a
lively
hopeful
prospect
for
a
Christian
man
!
’
‘But
,
’
said
Lancelot
,
‘I
thought
this
New
Poor-law
was
to
stir
them
up
to
independence
?
’
‘Oh
,
sir
,
the
old
law
has
bit
too
deep
:
it
made
them
slaves
and
beggars
at
heart
.
It
taught
them
not
to
be
ashamed
of
parish
pay
—
to
demand
it
as
a
right.’
‘And
so
it
is
their
right
,
’
said
Lancelot
.
‘In
God’s
name
,
if
a
country
is
so
ill-constituted
that
it
cannot
find
its
own
citizens
in
work
,
it
is
bound
to
find
them
in
food.’
‘Maybe
,
sir
,
maybe
.
God
knows
I
don’t
grudge
it
them
.
It’s
a
poor
pittance
at
best
,
when
they
have
got
it
.
But
don’t
you
see
,
sir
,
how
all
poor-laws
,
old
or
new
either
,
suck
the
independent
spirit
out
of
a
man
;
how
they
make
the
poor
wretch
reckless
;
how
they
tempt
him
to
spend
every
extra
farthing
in
amusement
?
’
‘How
then
?
’
‘Why
,
he
is
always
tempted
to
say
to
himself
,
“
Whatever
happens
to
me
,
the
parish
must
keep
me
.
If
I
am
sick
it
must
doctor
me
;
if
I
am
worn
out
it
must
feed
me
;
if
I
die
it
must
bury
me
;
if
I
leave
my
children
paupers
the
parish
must
look
after
them
,
and
they’ll
be
as
well
off
with
the
parish
as
they
were
with
me
.
Now
they’ve
only
got
just
enough
to
keep
body
and
soul
together
,
and
the
parish
can’t
give
them
less
than
that
.
What’s
the
use
of
cutting
myself
off
from
sixpenny-worth
of
pleasure
here
,
and
sixpenny-worth
there
.
I’m
not
saving
money
for
my
children
,
I’m
only
saving
the
farmers’
rates
.
”
There
it
is
,
sir
,
’
said
Tregarva
;
‘that’s
the
bottom
of
it
,
sir
,
—
“
I’m
only
saving
the
farmers’
rates
.
Let
us
eat
and
drink
,
for
to-morrow
we
die
!
”
’
‘I
don’t
see
my
way
out
of
it
,
’
said
Lancelot
.
‘So
says
everybody
,
sir
.
But
I
should
have
thought
those
members
of
parliament
,
and
statesmen
,
and
university
scholars
have
been
set
up
in
the
high
places
,
out
of
the
wood
where
we
are
all
struggling
and
scrambling
,
just
that
they
might
see
their
way
out
of
it
;
and
if
they
don’t
,
sir
,
and
that
soon
,
as
sure
as
God
is
in
heaven
,
these
poor
fellows
will
cut
their
way
out
of
it.’
‘And
blindfolded
and
ignorant
as
they
are
,
’
said
Lancelot
,
‘they
will
be
certain
to
cut
their
way
out
just
in
the
wrong
direction.’
‘I’m
not
so
sure
of
that
,
sir
,
’
said
Tregarva
,
lowering
his
voice
.
‘What
is
written’
?
That
there
is
One
who
hears
the
desire
of
the
poor
.
“
Lord
,
Thou
preparest
their
hearts
and
Thine
ear
hearkeneth
thereto
,
to
help
the
fatherless
and
poor
unto
their
right
,
that
the
man
of
the
earth
be
no
more
exalted
against
them
.
”
’
‘Why
,
you
are
talking
like
any
Chartist
,
Tregarva
!
’
‘Am
I
,
sir
?
I
haven’t
heard
much
Scripture
quoted
among
them
myself
,
poor
fellows
;
but
to
tell
you
the
truth
,
sir
,
I
don’t
know
what
I
am
becoming
.
I’m
getting
half
mad
with
all
I
see
going
on
and
not
going
on
;
and
you
will
agree
,
sir
,
that
what’s
happened
this
day
can’t
have
done
much
to
cool
my
temper
or
brighten
my
hopes
;
though
,
God’s
my
witness
,
there’s
no
spite
in
me
for
my
own
sake
.
But
what
makes
me
maddest
of
all
,
sir
,
is
to
see
that
everybody
sees
these
evils
,
except
just
the
men
who
can
cure
them
—
the
squires
and
the
clergy.’
‘Why
surely
,
Tregarva
,
there
are
hundreds
,
if
not
thousands
,
of
clergymen
and
landlords
working
heart
and
soul
at
this
moment
,
to
better
the
condition
of
the
labouring
classes
!
’
‘Ay
,
sir
,
they
see
the
evils
,
and
yet
they
don’t
see
them
.
They
do
not
see
what
is
the
matter
with
the
poor
man
;
and
the
proof
of
it
is
,
sir
,
that
the
poor
have
no
confidence
in
them
.
They’ll
take
their
alms
,
but
they’ll
hardly
take
their
schooling
,
and
their
advice
they
won’t
take
at
all
.
And
why
is
it
,
sir
?
Because
the
poor
have
got
in
their
heads
in
these
days
a
strange
confused
fancy
,
maybe
,
but
still
a
deep
and
a
fierce
one
,
that
they
haven’t
got
what
they
call
their
rights
.
If
you
were
to
raise
the
wages
of
every
man
in
this
country
from
nine
to
twelve
shillings
a-week
to-morrow
,
you
wouldn’t
satisfy
them
;
at
least
,
the
only
ones
whom
you
would
satisfy
would
be
the
mere
hogs
among
them
,
who
,
as
long
as
they
can
get
a
full
stomach
,
care
for
nothing
else.’
‘What
,
in
Heaven’s
name
,
do
they
want
?
’
asked
Lancelot
.
‘They
hardly
know
yet
,
sir
;
but
they
know
well
what
they
don’t
want
.
The
question
with
them
,
sir
,
believe
me
,
is
not
so
much
,
How
shall
we
get
better
fed
and
better
housed
,
but
whom
shall
we
depend
upon
for
our
food
and
for
our
house
?
Why
should
we
depend
on
the
will
and
fancy
of
any
man
for
our
rights
?
They
are
asking
ugly
questions
among
themselves
,
sir
,
about
what
those
two
words
,
rent
and
taxes
,
mean
,
and
about
what
that
same
strange
word
,
freedom
,
means
.
Eight
or
wrong
,
they’ve
got
the
thought
into
their
heads
,
and
it’s
growing
there
,
and
they
will
find
an
answer
for
it
.
Depend
upon
it
,
sir
,
I
tell
you
a
truth
,
and
they
expect
a
change
.
You
will
hear
them
talk
of
it
to-night
,
sir
,
if
you’ve
luck.’
‘We
all
expect
a
change
,
for
that
matter
,
’
said
Lancelot
.
‘That
feeling
is
common
to
all
classes
and
parties
just
now.’
Tregarva
took
off
his
hat
.
‘
“
For
the
word
of
the
Lord
hath
spoken
it
.
”
Do
you
know
,
sir
,
I
long
at
times
that
I
did
agree
with
those
Chartists
?
If
I
did
,
I’d
turn
lecturer
to-morrow
.
How
a
man
could
speak
out
then
!
If
he
saw
any
door
of
hope
,
any
way
of
salvation
for
these
poor
fellows
,
even
if
it
was
nothing
better
than
salvation
by
Act
of
Parliament
!
’
‘But
why
don’t
you
trust
the
truly
worthy
among
the
clergy
and
the
gentry
to
leaven
their
own
ranks
and
bring
all
right
in
time
?
’
‘Because
,
sir
,
they
seem
to
be
going
the
way
only
to
make
things
worse
.
The
people
have
been
so
dependent
on
them
heretofore
,
that
they
have
become
thorough
beggars
.
You
can
have
no
knowledge
,
sir
,
of
the
whining
,
canting
,
deceit
,
and
lies
which
those
poor
miserable
labourers’
wives
palm
on
charitable
ladies
.
If
they
weren’t
angels
,
some
of
them
,
they’d
lock
up
their
purses
and
never
give
away
another
farthing
.
And
,
sir
,
these
free-schools
,
and
these
penny-clubs
,
and
clothing
clubs
,
and
these
heaps
of
money
which
are
given
away
,
all
make
the
matter
worse
and
worse
.
They
make
the
labourer
fancy
that
he
is
not
to
depend
upon
God
and
his
own
right
hand
,
but
on
what
his
wife
can
worm
out
of
the
good
nature
of
the
rich
.
Why
,
sir
,
they
growl
as
insolently
now
at
the
parson
or
the
squire’s
wife
if
they
don’t
get
as
much
money
as
their
neighbours
,
as
they
used
to
at
the
parish
vestrymen
under
the
old
law
.
Look
at
that
Lord
Vieuxbois
,
sir
,
as
sweet
a
gentleman
as
ever
God
made
.
It
used
to
do
me
good
to
walk
behind
him
when
he
came
over
here
shooting
,
just
to
hear
the
gentle
kind-hearted
way
in
which
he
used
to
speak
to
every
old
soul
he
met
.
He
spends
his
whole
life
and
time
about
the
poor
,
I
hear
.
But
,
sir
,
as
sure
as
you
live
he’s
making
his
people
slaves
and
humbugs
.
He
doesn’t
see
,
sir
,
that
they
want
to
be
raised
bodily
out
of
this
miserable
hand-to-mouth
state
,
to
be
brought
nearer
up
to
him
,
and
set
on
a
footing
where
they
can
shift
for
themselves
.
Without
meaning
it
,
sir
,
all
his
boundless
charities
are
keeping
the
people
down
,
and
telling
them
they
must
stay
down
,
and
not
help
themselves
,
but
wait
for
what
he
gives
them
.
He
fats
prize-labourers
,
sir
,
just
as
Lord
Minchampstead
fats
prize-oxen
and
pigs.’
Lancelot
could
not
help
thinking
of
that
amusingly
inconsistent
,
however
well-meant
,
scene
in
Coningsby
,
in
which
Mr.
Lyle
is
represented
as
trying
to
restore
‘the
independent
order
of
peasantry
,
’
by
making
them
the
receivers
of
public
alms
at
his
own
gate
,
as
if
they
had
been
middle-age
serfs
or
vagabonds
,
and
not
citizens
of
modern
England
.
‘It
may
suit
the
Mr.
Lyles
of
this
age
,
’
thought
Lancelot
,
‘to
make
the
people
constantly
and
visibly
comprehend
that
property
is
their
protector
and
their
friend
,
but
I
question
whether
it
will
suit
the
people
themselves
,
unless
they
can
make
property
understand
that
it
owes
them
something
more
definite
than
protection.’
Saddened
by
this
conversation
,
which
had
helped
to
give
another
shake
to
the
easy-going
complacency
with
which
Lancelot
had
been
used
to
contemplate
the
world
below
him
,
and
look
on
its
evils
as
necessaries
,
ancient
and
fixed
as
the
universe
,
he
entered
the
village
fair
,
and
was
a
little
disappointed
at
his
first
glimpse
of
the
village-green
.
Certainly
his
expectations
had
not
been
very
exalted
;
but
there
had
run
through
them
a
hope
of
something
melodramatic
,
dreams
of
May-pole
dancing
and
athletic
games
,
somewhat
of
village-belle
rivalry
,
of
the
Corin
and
Sylvia
school
;
or
,
failing
that
,
a
few
Touchstones
and
Audreys
,
some
genial
earnest
buffo
humour
here
and
there
.
But
there
did
not
seem
much
likelihood
of
it
.
Two
or
three
apple
and
gingerbread
stalls
,
from
which
draggled
children
were
turning
slowly
and
wistfully
away
to
go
home
;
a
booth
full
of
trumpery
fairings
,
in
front
of
which
tawdry
girls
were
coaxing
maudlin
youths
,
with
faded
southernwood
in
their
button-holes
;
another
long
low
booth
,
from
every
crevice
of
which
reeked
odours
of
stale
beer
and
smoke
,
by
courtesy
denominated
tobacco
,
to
the
treble
accompaniment
of
a
jigging
fiddle
and
a
tambourine
,
and
the
bass
one
of
grumbled
oaths
and
curses
within
—
these
were
the
means
of
relaxation
which
the
piety
,
freedom
,
and
civilisation
of
fourteen
centuries
,
from
Hengist
to
Queen
Victoria
,
had
devised
and
made
possible
for
the
English
peasant
!
‘There
seems
very
little
here
to
see
,
’
said
Lancelot
,
half
peevishly
.
‘I
think
,
sir
,
’
quoth
Tregarva
,
‘that
very
thing
is
what’s
most
worth
seeing.’
Lancelot
could
not
help
,
even
at
the
risk
of
detection
,
investing
capital
enough
in
sugar-plums
and
gingerbread
,
to
furnish
the
urchins
around
with
the
material
for
a
whole
carnival
of
stomach-aches
;
and
he
felt
a
great
inclination
to
clear
the
fairing-stall
in
a
like
manner
,
on
behalf
of
the
poor
bedizened
sickly-looking
girls
round
,
but
he
was
afraid
of
the
jealousy
of
some
beer-bemuddled
swain
.
The
ill-looks
of
the
young
girls
surprised
him
much
.
Here
and
there
smiled
a
plump
rosy
face
enough
;
but
the
majority
seemed
under-sized
,
under-fed
,
utterly
wanting
in
grace
,
vigour
,
and
what
the
penny-a-liners
call
‘rude
health.’
He
remarked
it
to
Tregarva
.
The
keeper
smiled
mournfully
.
‘You
see
those
little
creatures
dragging
home
babies
in
arms
nearly
as
big
as
themselves
,
sir
.
That
and
bad
food
,
want
of
milk
especially
,
accounts
for
their
growing
up
no
bigger
than
they
do
;
and
as
for
their
sad
countenances
,
sir
,
most
of
them
must
carry
a
lighter
conscience
before
they
carry
a
brighter
face.’
‘What
do
you
mean
?
’
asked
Lancelot
.
‘The
clergyman
who
enters
the
weddings
and
the
baptisms
knows
well
enough
what
I
mean
,
sir
.
But
we’ll
go
into
that
booth
,
if
you
want
to
see
the
thick
of
it
,
sir
;
that’s
to
say
,
if
you’re
not
ashamed.’
‘I
hope
we
need
neither
of
us
do
anything
to
be
ashamed
of
there
;
and
as
for
seeing
,
I
begin
to
agree
with
you
,
that
what
makes
the
whole
thing
most
curious
is
its
intense
dulness.’
‘What
upon
earth
is
that
?
’
‘I
say
,
look
out
there
!
’
‘Well
,
you
look
out
yourself
!
’
This
was
caused
by
a
violent
blow
across
the
shins
with
a
thick
stick
,
the
deed
of
certain
drunken
wiseacres
who
were
persisting
in
playing
in
the
dark
the
never
very
lucrative
game
of
three
sticks
a
penny
,
conducted
by
a
couple
of
gipsies
.
Poor
fellows
!
there
was
one
excuse
for
them
.
It
was
the
only
thing
there
to
play
at
,
except
a
set
of
skittles
;
and
on
those
they
had
lost
their
money
every
Saturday
night
for
the
last
seven
years
each
at
his
own
village
beer-shop
.
So
into
the
booth
they
turned
;
and
as
soon
as
Lancelot’s
eyes
were
accustomed
to
the
reeking
atmosphere
,
he
saw
seated
at
two
long
temporary
tables
of
board
,
fifty
or
sixty
of
‘My
Brethren
,
’
as
clergymen
call
them
in
their
sermons
,
wrangling
,
stupid
,
beery
,
with
sodden
eyes
and
drooping
lips
—
interspersed
with
more
girls
and
brazen-faced
women
,
with
dirty
flowers
in
their
caps
,
whose
whole
business
seemed
to
be
to
cast
jealous
looks
at
each
other
,
and
defend
themselves
from
the
coarse
overtures
of
their
swains
.
Lancelot
had
been
already
perfectly
astonished
at
the
foulness
of
language
which
prevailed
;
and
the
utter
absence
of
anything
like
chivalrous
respect
,
almost
of
common
decency
,
towards
women
.
But
lo
!
the
language
of
the
elder
women
was
quite
as
disgusting
as
that
of
the
men
,
if
not
worse
.
He
whispered
a
remark
on
the
point
to
Tregarva
,
who
shook
his
head
.
‘It’s
the
field-work
,
sir
—
the
field-work
,
that
does
it
all
.
They
get
accustomed
there
from
their
childhood
to
hear
words
whose
very
meanings
they
shouldn’t
know
;
and
the
older
teach
the
younger
ones
,
and
the
married
ones
are
worst
of
all
.
It
wears
them
out
in
body
,
sir
,
that
field-work
,
and
makes
them
brutes
in
soul
and
in
manners.’
‘Why
don’t
they
give
it
up
?
Why
don’t
the
respectable
ones
set
their
faces
against
it
?
’
‘They
can’t
afford
it
,
sir
.
They
must
go
a-field
,
or
go
hungered
,
most
of
them
.
And
they
get
to
like
the
gossip
and
scandal
,
and
coarse
fun
of
it
,
while
their
children
are
left
at
home
to
play
in
the
roads
,
or
fall
into
the
fire
,
as
plenty
do
every
year.’
‘Why
not
at
school
?
’
‘The
big
ones
are
kept
at
home
,
sir
,
to
play
at
nursing
those
little
ones
who
are
too
young
to
go
.
Oh
,
sir
,
’
he
added
,
in
a
tone
of
deep
feeling
,
‘it
is
very
little
of
a
father’s
care
,
or
a
mother’s
love
,
that
a
labourer’s
child
knows
in
these
days
!
’
Lancelot
looked
round
the
booth
with
a
hopeless
feeling
.
There
was
awkward
dancing
going
on
at
the
upper
end
.
He
was
too
much
sickened
to
go
and
look
at
it
.
He
began
examining
the
faces
and
foreheads
of
the
company
,
and
was
astonished
at
the
first
glance
by
the
lofty
and
ample
development
of
brain
in
at
least
one
half
.
There
were
intellects
there
—
or
rather
capacities
of
intellect
,
capable
,
surely
,
of
anything
,
had
not
the
promise
of
the
brow
been
almost
always
belied
by
the
loose
and
sensual
lower
features
.
They
were
evidently
rather
a
degraded
than
an
undeveloped
race
.
‘The
low
forehead
of
the
Kabyle
and
Koord
,
’
thought
Lancelot
,
‘is
compensated
by
the
grim
sharp
lip
,
and
glittering
eye
,
which
prove
that
all
the
small
capabilities
of
the
man
have
been
called
out
into
clear
and
vigorous
action
:
but
here
the
very
features
themselves
,
both
by
what
they
have
and
what
they
want
,
testify
against
that
society
which
carelessly
wastes
her
most
precious
wealth
,
the
manhood
of
her
masses
!
Tregarva
!
you
have
observed
a
good
many
things
—
did
you
ever
observe
whether
the
men
with
the
large
foreheads
were
better
than
the
men
with
the
small
ones
?
’
‘Ay
,
sir
,
I
know
what
you
are
driving
at
.
I’ve
heard
of
that
new-fangled
notion
of
scholars
,
which
,
if
you’ll
forgive
my
plain
speaking
,
expects
man’s
brains
to
do
the
work
of
God’s
grace.’
‘But
what
have
you
remarked
?
’
‘All
I
ever
saw
was
,
that
the
stupid-looking
ones
were
the
greatest
blackguards
,
and
the
clever-looking
ones
the
greatest
rogues.’
Lancelot
was
rebuked
,
but
not
surprised
.
He
had
been
for
some
time
past
suspecting
,
from
the
bitter
experience
of
his
own
heart
,
the
favourite
modern
theory
which
revives
the
Neo-Platonism
of
Alexandria
,
by
making
intellect
synonymous
with
virtue
,
and
then
jumbling
,
like
poor
bewildered
Proclus
,
the
‘physical
understanding’
of
the
brain
with
the
pure
‘intellect’
of
the
spirit
.
‘You’ll
see
something
,
if
you
look
round
,
sir
,
a
great
deal
easier
to
explain
—
and
,
I
should
have
thought
,
a
great
deal
easier
to
cure
—
than
want
of
wits.’
‘And
what
is
that
?
’
‘How
different-looking
the
young
ones
are
from
their
fathers
,
and
still
more
from
their
grandfathers
!
Look
at
those
three
or
four
old
grammers
talking
together
there
.
For
all
their
being
shrunk
with
age
and
weather
,
you
won’t
see
such
fine-grown
men
anywhere
else
in
this
booth.’
It
was
too
true
.
Lancelot
recollected
now
having
remarked
it
before
when
at
church
;
and
having
wondered
why
almost
all
the
youths
were
so
much
smaller
,
clumsier
,
lower-brained
,
and
weaker-jawed
than
their
elders
.
‘Why
is
it
,
Tregarva
?
’
‘Worse
food
,
worse
lodging
,
worse
nursing
—
and
,
I’m
sore
afraid
,
worse
blood
.
There
was
too
much
filthiness
and
drunkenness
went
on
in
the
old
war-times
,
not
to
leave
a
taint
behind
it
,
for
many
a
generation
.
The
prosperity
of
fools
shall
destroy
them
!
’
‘Oh
!
’
thought
Lancelot
,
‘for
some
young
sturdy
Lancashire
or
Lothian
blood
,
to
put
new
life
into
the
old
frozen
South
Saxon
veins
!
Even
a
drop
of
the
warm
enthusiastic
Celtic
would
be
better
than
none
.
Perhaps
this
Irish
immigration
may
do
some
good
,
after
all.’
Perhaps
it
may
,
Lancelot
.
Let
us
hope
so
,
since
it
is
pretty
nearly
inevitable
.
Sadder
and
sadder
,
Lancelot
tried
to
listen
to
the
conversation
of
the
men
round
him
.
To
his
astonishment
he
hardly
understood
a
word
of
it
.
It
was
half
articulate
,
nasal
,
guttural
,
made
up
almost
entirely
of
vowels
,
like
the
speech
of
savages
.
He
had
never
before
been
struck
with
the
significant
contrast
between
the
sharp
,
clearly-defined
articulation
,
the
vivid
and
varied
tones
of
the
gentleman
,
or
even
of
the
London
street-boy
when
compared
with
the
coarse
,
half-formed
growls
,
as
of
a
company
of
seals
,
which
he
heard
round
him
.
That
single
fact
struck
him
,
perhaps
,
more
deeply
than
any
;
it
connected
itself
with
many
of
his
physiological
fancies
;
it
was
the
parent
of
many
thoughts
and
plans
of
his
after-life
.
Here
and
there
he
could
distinguish
a
half
sentence
.
An
old
shrunken
man
opposite
him
was
drawing
figures
in
the
spilt
beer
with
his
pipe-stem
,
and
discoursing
of
the
glorious
times
before
the
great
war
,
‘when
there
was
more
food
than
there
were
mouths
,
and
more
work
than
there
were
hands.’
‘Poor
human
nature
!
’
thought
Lancelot
,
as
he
tried
to
follow
one
of
those
unintelligible
discussions
about
the
relative
prices
of
the
loaf
and
the
bushel
of
flour
,
which
ended
,
as
usual
,
in
more
swearing
,
and
more
quarrelling
,
and
more
beer
to
make
it
up
—
‘Poor
human
nature
!
always
looking
back
,
as
the
German
sage
says
,
to
some
fancied
golden
age
,
never
looking
forward
to
the
real
one
which
is
coming
!
’
‘But
I
say
,
vather
,
’
drawled
out
some
one
,
‘they
say
there’s
a
sight
more
money
in
England
now
,
than
there
was
afore
the
war-time.’
‘Eees
,
booy
,
’
said
the
old
man
;
‘but
its
got
into
too
few
hands
.’
‘Well
,
’
thought
Lancelot
,
‘there’s
a
glimpse
of
practical
sense
,
at
least.’
And
a
pedlar
who
sat
next
him
,
a
bold
,
black-whiskered
bully
,
from
the
Potteries
,
hazarded
a
joke
,
—
‘It’s
all
along
of
this
new
sky-and-tough-it
farming
.
They
used
to
spread
the
money
broadcast
,
but
now
they
drills
it
all
in
one
place
,
like
bone-dust
under
their
fancy
plants
,
and
we
poor
self-sown
chaps
gets
none.’
This
garland
of
fancies
was
received
with
great
applause
;
whereat
the
pedlar
,
emboldened
,
proceeded
to
observe
,
mysteriously
,
that
‘donkeys
took
a
beating
,
but
horses
kicked
at
it
;
and
that
they’d
found
out
that
in
Staffordshire
long
ago
.
You
want
a
good
Chartist
lecturer
down
here
,
my
covies
,
to
show
you
donkeys
of
labouring
men
that
you
have
got
iron
on
your
heels
,
if
you
only
know’d
how
to
use
it.’
‘And
what’s
the
use
of
rioting
?
’
asked
some
one
,
querulously
.
‘Why
,
if
you
don’t
riot
,
the
farmers
will
starve
you.’
‘And
if
we
do
,
they’d
turn
sodgers
—
yeomanry
,
as
they
call
it
,
though
there
ain’t
a
yeoman
among
them
in
these
parts
;
and
then
they
takes
sword
and
kills
us
.
So
,
riot
or
none
,
they
has
it
all
their
own
way.’
Lancelot
heard
many
more
scraps
of
this
sort
.
He
was
very
much
struck
with
their
dread
of
violence
.
It
did
not
seem
cowardice
.
It
was
not
loyalty
—
the
English
labourer
has
fallen
below
the
capability
of
so
spiritual
a
feeling
;
Lancelot
had
found
out
that
already
.
It
could
not
be
apathy
,
for
he
heard
nothing
but
complaint
upon
complaint
bandied
from
mouth
to
mouth
the
whole
evening
.
They
seemed
rather
sunk
too
low
in
body
and
mind
,
—
too
stupefied
and
spiritless
,
to
follow
the
example
of
the
manufacturing
districts
;
above
all
,
they
were
too
ill-informed
.
It
is
not
mere
starvation
which
goads
the
Leicester
weaver
to
madness
.
It
is
starvation
with
education
,
—
an
empty
stomach
and
a
cultivated
,
even
though
miscultivated
,
mind
.
At
that
instant
,
a
huge
hulking
farm-boy
rolled
into
the
booth
,
roaring
,
dolefully
,
the
end
of
a
song
,
with
a
punctuation
of
his
own
invention
—
‘He’ll
maak
me
a
lady
.
Zo
.
Vine
to
be
zyure
.
And
,
vaithfully
;
love
me
.
Although
;
I
;
be-e
;
poor-r-r-r.’
Lancelot
would
have
laughed
heartily
at
him
anywhere
else
;
but
the
whole
scene
was
past
a
jest
;
and
a
gleam
of
pathos
and
tenderness
seemed
to
shine
even
from
that
doggerel
,
—
a
vista
,
as
it
were
,
of
true
genial
nature
,
in
the
far
distance
.
But
as
he
looked
round
again
,
‘What
hope
,
’
he
thought
,
‘of
its
realisation
?
Arcadian
dreams
of
pastoral
innocence
and
graceful
industry
,
I
suppose
,
are
to
be
henceforth
monopolised
by
the
stage
or
the
boudoir
?
Never
,
so
help
me
,
God
!
’
The
ursine
howls
of
the
new-comer
seemed
to
have
awakened
the
spirit
of
music
in
the
party
.
‘Coom
,
Blackburd
,
gi’
us
zong
,
Blackburd
,
bo’
!
’
cried
a
dozen
voices
to
an
impish
,
dark-eyed
gipsy
boy
,
of
some
thirteen
years
old
.
‘Put
’n
on
taable
.
Now
,
then
,
pipe
up
!
’
‘What
will
’ee
ha’
?
’
‘Mary
;
gi’
us
Mary.’
‘I
shall
make
a’
girls
cry
,
’
quoth
Blackbird
,
with
a
grin
.
‘Do’n
good
,
too
;
they
likes
it
:
zing
away.’
And
the
boy
began
,
in
a
broad
country
twang
,
which
could
not
overpower
the
sad
melody
of
the
air
,
or
the
rich
sweetness
of
his
flute-like
voice
,
—
‘Young
Mary
walked
sadly
down
through
the
green
clover
,
And
sighed
as
she
looked
at
the
babe
at
her
breast
;
“
My
roses
are
faded
,
my
false
love
a
rover
,
The
green
graves
they
call
me
,
‘Come
home
to
your
rest.’
”
‘Then
by
rode
a
soldier
in
gorgeous
arraying
,
And
“
Where
is
your
bride-ring
,
my
fair
maid
?
”
he
cried
;
“
I
ne’er
had
a
bride-ring
,
by
false
man’s
betraying
,
Nor
token
of
love
but
this
babe
at
my
side
.
‘
“
Tho’
gold
could
not
buy
me
,
sweet
words
could
deceive
me
;
So
faithful
and
lonely
till
death
I
must
roam
.
”
“
Oh
,
Mary
,
sweet
Mary
,
look
up
and
forgive
me
,
With
wealth
and
with
glory
your
true
love
comes
home
;
‘
“
So
give
me
my
own
babe
,
those
soft
arms
adorning
,
I’ll
wed
you
and
cherish
you
,
never
to
stray
;
For
it’s
many
a
dark
and
a
wild
cloudy
morning
,
Turns
out
by
the
noon-time
a
sunshiny
day
.
”
’
‘A
bad
moral
that
,
sir
,
’
whispered
Tregarva
.
‘Better
than
none
,
’
answered
Lancelot
.
‘It’s
well
if
you
are
right
,
sir
,
for
you’ll
hear
no
other.’
The
keeper
spoke
truly
;
in
a
dozen
different
songs
,
more
or
less
coarsely
,
but
,
in
general
,
with
a
dash
of
pathetic
sentiment
,
the
same
case
of
lawless
love
was
embodied
.
It
seemed
to
be
their
only
notion
of
the
romantic
.
Now
and
then
there
was
a
poaching
song
;
then
one
of
the
lowest
flash
London
school
—
filth
and
all
—
was
roared
in
chorus
in
presence
of
the
women
.
‘I
am
afraid
that
you
do
not
thank
me
for
having
brought
you
to
any
place
so
unfit
for
a
gentleman
,
’
said
Tregarva
,
seeing
Lancelot’s
sad
face
.
‘Because
it
is
so
unfit
for
a
gentleman
,
therefore
I
do
thank
you
.
It
is
right
to
know
what
one’s
own
flesh
and
blood
are
doing.’
‘Hark
to
that
song
,
sir
!
that’s
an
old
one
.
I
didn’t
think
they’d
get
on
to
singing
that.’
The
Blackbird
was
again
on
the
table
,
but
seemed
this
time
disinclined
to
exhibit
.
‘Out
wi’
un
,
boy
;
it
wain’t
burn
thy
mouth
!
’
‘I
be
afeard.’
‘O’
who
?
’
‘Keeper
there.’
He
pointed
to
Tregarva
;
there
was
a
fierce
growl
round
the
room
.
‘I
am
no
keeper
,
’
shouted
Tregarva
,
starting
up
.
‘I
was
turned
off
this
morning
for
speaking
my
mind
about
the
squires
,
and
now
I’m
one
of
you
,
to
live
and
die.’
This
answer
was
received
with
a
murmur
of
applause
;
and
a
fellow
in
a
scarlet
merino
neckerchief
,
three
waistcoats
,
and
a
fancy
shooting-jacket
,
who
had
been
eyeing
Lancelot
for
some
time
,
sidled
up
behind
them
,
and
whispered
in
Tregarva’s
ear
,
—
‘Perhaps
you’d
like
an
engagement
in
our
line
,
young
man
,
and
your
friend
there
,
he
seems
a
sporting
gent
too
.
—
We
could
show
him
very
pretty
shooting.’
Tregarva
answered
by
the
first
and
last
oath
Lancelot
ever
heard
from
him
,
and
turning
to
him
,
as
the
rascal
sneaked
off
,
—
‘That’s
a
poaching
crimp
from
London
,
sir
;
tempting
these
poor
boys
to
sin
,
and
deceit
,
and
drunkenness
,
and
theft
,
and
the
hulks.’
‘I
fancy
I
saw
him
somewhere
the
night
of
our
row
—
you
understand
?
’
‘So
do
I
,
sir
,
but
there’s
no
use
talking
of
it.’
Blackbird
was
by
this
time
prevailed
on
to
sing
,
and
burst
out
as
melodious
as
ever
,
while
all
heads
were
cocked
on
one
side
in
delighted
attention
.
‘I
zeed
a
vire
o’
Monday
night
,
A
vire
both
great
and
high
;
But
I
wool
not
tell
you
where
,
my
boys
,
Nor
wool
not
tell
you
why
.
The
varmer
he
comes
screeching
out
,
To
zave
’uns
new
brood
mare
;
Zays
I
,
“
You
and
your
stock
may
roast
,
Vor
aught
us
poor
chaps
care
.
”
‘Coorus
,
boys
,
coorus
!
’
And
the
chorus
burst
out
,
—
‘Then
here’s
a
curse
on
varmers
all
As
rob
and
grind
the
poor
;
To
re’p
the
fruit
of
all
their
works
In
*
*
*
*
for
evermoor-r-r-r
.
‘A
blind
owld
dame
come
to
the
vire
,
Zo
near
as
she
could
get
;
Zays
,
“
Here’s
a
luck
I
warn’t
asleep
To
lose
this
blessed
hett
.
‘
“
They
robs
us
of
our
turfing
rights
,
Our
bits
of
chips
and
sticks
,
Till
poor
folks
now
can’t
warm
their
hands
,
Except
by
varmer’s
ricks
.
”
‘Then
,
etc.’
And
again
the
boy’s
delicate
voice
rung
out
the
ferocious
chorus
,
with
something
,
Lancelot
fancied
,
of
fiendish
exultation
,
and
every
worn
face
lighted
up
with
a
coarse
laugh
,
that
indicated
no
malice
—
but
also
no
mercy
.
Lancelot
was
sickened
,
and
rose
to
go
.
As
he
turned
,
his
arm
was
seized
suddenly
and
firmly
.
He
looked
round
,
and
saw
a
coarse
,
handsome
,
showily-dressed
girl
,
looking
intently
into
his
face
.
He
shook
her
angrily
off
.
‘You
needn’t
be
so
proud
,
Mr.
Smith
;
I’ve
had
my
hand
on
the
arm
of
as
good
as
you
.
Ah
,
you
needn’t
start
!
I
know
you
—
I
know
you
,
I
say
,
well
enough
.
You
used
to
be
with
him
.
Where
is
he
?
’
‘Whom
do
you
mean
?
’
‘He
!
’
answered
the
girl
,
with
a
fierce
,
surprised
look
,
as
if
there
could
be
no
one
else
in
the
world
.
‘Colonel
Bracebridge
,
’
whispered
Tregarva
.
‘Ay
,
he
it
is
!
And
now
walk
further
off
,
bloodhound
!
and
let
me
speak
to
Mr.
Smith
.
He
is
in
Norway
,
’
she
ran
on
eagerly
.
‘When
will
he
be
back
?
When
?
’
‘Why
do
you
want
to
know
?
’
asked
Lancelot
.
‘When
will
he
be
back
?
’
—
she
kept
on
fiercely
repeating
the
question
;
and
then
burst
out
,
—
‘Curse
you
gentlemen
all
!
Cowards
!
you
are
all
in
a
league
against
us
poor
girls
!
You
can
hunt
alone
when
you
betray
us
,
and
lie
fast
enough
then
?
But
when
we
come
for
justice
,
you
all
herd
together
like
a
flock
of
rooks
;
and
turn
so
delicate
and
honourable
all
of
a
sudden
—
to
each
other
!
When
will
he
be
back
,
I
say
?
’
‘In
a
month
,
’
answered
Lancelot
,
who
saw
that
something
really
important
lay
behind
the
girl’s
wildness
.
‘Too
late
!
’
she
cried
,
wildly
,
clapping
her
hands
together
;
‘too
late
!
Here
—
tell
him
you
saw
me
;
tell
him
you
saw
Mary
;
tell
him
where
and
in
what
a
pretty
place
,
too
,
for
maid
,
master
,
or
man
!
What
are
you
doing
here
?
’
‘What
is
that
to
you
,
my
good
girl
?
’
‘True
.
Tell
him
you
saw
me
here
;
and
tell
him
,
when
next
he
hears
of
me
,
it
will
be
in
a
very
different
place.’
She
turned
and
vanished
among
the
crowd
.
Lancelot
almost
ran
out
into
the
night
,
—
into
a
triad
of
fights
,
two
drunken
men
,
two
jealous
wives
,
and
a
brute
who
struck
a
poor
,
thin
,
worn-out
woman
,
for
trying
to
coax
him
home
.
Lancelot
rushed
up
to
interfere
,
but
a
man
seized
his
uplifted
arm
.
‘He’ll
only
beat
her
all
the
more
when
he
getteth
home.’
‘She
has
stood
that
every
Saturday
night
for
the
last
seven
years
,
to
my
knowledge
,
’
said
Tregarva
;
‘and
worse
,
too
,
at
times.’
‘Good
God
!
is
there
no
escape
for
her
from
her
tyrant
?
’
‘No
,
sir
.
It’s
only
you
gentlefolks
who
can
afford
such
luxuries
;
your
poor
man
may
be
tied
to
a
harlot
,
or
your
poor
woman
to
a
ruffian
,
but
once
done
,
done
for
ever.’
‘Well
,
’
thought
Lancelot
,
‘we
English
have
a
characteristic
way
of
proving
the
holiness
of
the
marriage
tie
.
The
angel
of
Justice
and
Pity
cannot
sever
it
,
only
the
stronger
demon
of
Money.’
Their
way
home
lay
over
Ashy
Down
,
a
lofty
chalk
promontory
,
round
whose
foot
the
river
made
a
sudden
bend
.
As
they
paced
along
over
the
dreary
hedgeless
stubbles
,
they
both
started
,
as
a
ghostly
‘Ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
’
rang
through
the
air
over
their
heads
,
and
was
answered
by
a
like
cry
,
faint
and
distant
,
across
the
wolds
.
‘That’s
those
stone-curlews
—
at
least
,
so
I
hope
,
’
said
Tregarva
.
‘He’ll
be
round
again
in
a
minute.’
And
again
,
right
between
them
and
the
clear
,
cold
moon
,
‘Ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
’
resounded
over
their
heads
.
They
gazed
up
into
the
cloudless
star-bespangled
sky
,
but
there
was
no
sign
of
living
thing
.
‘It’s
an
old
sign
to
me
,
’
quoth
Tregarva
;
‘God
grant
that
I
may
remember
it
in
this
black
day
of
mine.’
‘How
so
!
’
asked
Lancelot
;
‘I
should
not
have
fancied
you
a
superstitious
man.’
‘Names
go
for
nothing
,
sir
,
and
what
my
forefathers
believed
in
I
am
not
going
to
be
conceited
enough
to
disbelieve
in
a
hurry
.
But
if
you
heard
my
story
you
would
think
I
had
reason
enough
to
remember
that
devil’s
laugh
up
there.’
‘Let
me
hear
it
then.’
‘Well
,
sir
,
it
may
be
a
long
story
to
you
,
but
it
was
a
short
one
to
me
,
for
it
was
the
making
of
me
,
out
of
hand
,
there
and
then
,
blessed
be
God
!
But
if
you
will
have
it
—
’
‘And
I
will
have
it
,
friend
Tregarva
,
’
quoth
Lancelot
,
lighting
his
cigar
.
‘I
was
about
sixteen
years
old
,
just
after
I
came
home
from
the
Brazils
—
’
‘What
!
have
you
been
in
the
Brazils
?
’
‘Indeed
and
I
have
,
sir
,
for
three
years
;
and
one
thing
I
learnt
there
,
at
least
,
that’s
worth
going
for.’
‘What’s
that
?
’
‘What
the
Garden
of
Eden
must
have
been
like
.
But
those
Brazils
,
under
God
,
were
the
cause
of
my
being
here
;
for
my
father
,
who
was
a
mine-captain
,
lost
all
his
money
there
,
by
no
man’s
fault
but
his
own
,
and
not
his
either
,
the
world
would
say
,
and
when
we
came
back
to
Cornwall
he
could
not
stand
the
bal
work
,
nor
I
neither
.
Out
of
that
burning
sun
,
sir
,
to
come
home
here
,
and
work
in
the
levels
,
up
to
our
knees
in
warm
water
,
with
the
thermometer
at
85
°
,
and
then
up
a
thousand
feet
of
ladder
to
grass
,
reeking
wet
with
heat
,
and
find
the
easterly
sleet
driving
across
those
open
furze-crofts
—
he
couldn’t
stand
it
,
sir
—
few
stand
it
long
,
even
of
those
who
stay
in
Cornwall
.
We
miners
have
a
short
lease
of
life
;
consumption
and
strains
break
us
down
before
we’re
fifty.’
‘But
how
came
you
here
?
’
‘The
doctor
told
my
father
,
and
me
too
,
sir
,
that
we
must
give
up
mining
,
or
die
of
decline
:
so
he
came
up
here
,
to
a
sister
of
his
that
was
married
to
the
squire’s
gardener
,
and
here
he
died
;
and
the
squire
,
God
bless
him
and
forgive
him
,
took
a
fancy
to
me
,
and
made
me
under-keeper
.
And
I
loved
the
life
,
for
it
took
me
among
the
woods
and
the
rivers
,
where
I
could
think
of
the
Brazils
,
and
fancy
myself
back
again
.
But
mustn’t
talk
of
that
—
where
God
wills
is
all
right
.
And
it
is
a
fine
life
for
reading
and
thinking
,
a
gamekeeper’s
,
for
it’s
an
idle
life
at
best
.
Now
that’s
over
,
’
he
added
,
with
a
sigh
,
‘and
the
Lord
has
fulfilled
His
words
to
me
,
that
He
spoke
the
first
night
that
ever
I
heard
a
stone-plover
cry.’
‘What
on
earth
can
you
mean
?
’
asked
Lancelot
,
deeply
interested
.
‘Why
,
sir
,
it
was
a
wild
,
whirling
gray
night
,
with
the
air
full
of
sleet
and
rain
,
and
my
father
sent
me
over
to
Redruth
town
to
bring
home
some
trade
or
other
.
And
as
I
came
back
I
got
blinded
with
the
sleet
,
and
I
lost
my
way
across
the
moors
.
You
know
those
Cornish
furze-moors
,
sir
?
’
‘No.’
‘Well
,
then
,
they
are
burrowed
like
a
rabbit-warren
with
old
mine-shafts
.
You
can’t
go
in
some
places
ten
yards
without
finding
great
,
ghastly
black
holes
,
covered
in
with
furze
,
and
weeds
,
and
bits
of
rotting
timber
;
and
when
I
was
a
boy
I
couldn’t
keep
from
them
.
Something
seemed
to
draw
me
to
go
and
peep
down
,
and
drop
pebbles
in
,
to
hear
them
rattle
against
the
sides
,
fathoms
below
,
till
they
plumped
into
the
ugly
black
still
water
at
the
bottom
.
And
I
used
to
be
always
after
them
in
my
dreams
,
when
I
was
young
,
falling
down
them
,
down
,
down
,
all
night
long
,
till
I
woke
screaming
;
for
I
fancied
they
were
hell’s
mouth
,
every
one
of
them
.
And
it
stands
to
reason
,
sir
;
we
miners
hold
that
the
lake
of
fire
can’t
be
far
below
.
For
we
find
it
grow
warmer
,
and
warmer
,
and
warmer
,
the
farther
we
sink
a
shaft
;
and
the
learned
gentlemen
have
proved
,
sir
,
that
it’s
not
the
blasting
powder
,
nor
the
men’s
breaths
,
that
heat
the
mine.’
Lancelot
could
but
listen
.
‘Well
,
sir
,
I
got
into
a
great
furze-croft
,
full
of
deads
(
those
are
the
earth-heaps
they
throw
out
of
the
shafts
)
,
where
no
man
in
his
senses
dare
go
forward
or
back
in
the
dark
,
for
fear
of
the
shafts
;
and
the
wind
and
the
snow
were
so
sharp
,
they
made
me
quite
stupid
and
sleepy
;
and
I
knew
if
I
stayed
there
I
should
be
frozen
to
death
,
and
if
I
went
on
,
there
were
the
shafts
ready
to
swallow
me
up
:
and
what
with
fear
and
the
howling
and
raging
of
the
wind
,
I
was
like
a
mazed
boy
,
sir
.
And
I
knelt
down
and
tried
to
pray
;
and
then
,
in
one
moment
,
all
the
evil
things
I’d
ever
done
,
and
the
bad
words
and
thoughts
that
ever
crossed
me
,
rose
up
together
as
clear
as
one
page
of
a
print-book
;
and
I
knew
that
if
I
died
that
minute
I
should
go
to
hell
.
And
then
I
saw
through
the
ground
all
the
water
in
the
shafts
glaring
like
blood
,
and
all
the
sides
of
the
shafts
fierce
red-hot
,
as
if
hell
was
coming
up
.
And
I
heard
the
knockers
knocking
,
or
thought
I
heard
them
,
as
plain
as
I
hear
that
grasshopper
in
the
hedge
now.’
‘What
are
the
knockers
?
’
‘They
are
the
ghosts
,
the
miners
hold
,
of
the
old
Jews
,
sir
,
that
crucified
our
Lord
,
and
were
sent
for
slaves
by
the
Roman
emperors
to
work
the
mines
;
and
we
find
their
old
smelting-houses
,
which
we
call
Jews’
houses
,
and
their
blocks
of
tin
,
at
the
bottom
of
the
great
bogs
,
which
we
call
Jews’
tin
;
and
there’s
a
town
among
us
,
too
,
which
we
call
Market-Jew
—
but
the
old
name
was
Marazion
;
that
means
the
Bitterness
of
Zion
,
they
tell
me
.
Isn’t
it
so
,
sir
?
’
‘I
believe
it
is
,
’
said
Lancelot
,
utterly
puzzled
in
this
new
field
of
romance
.
‘And
bitter
work
it
was
for
them
,
no
doubt
,
poor
souls
!
We
used
to
break
into
the
old
shafts
and
adits
which
they
had
made
,
and
find
old
stags’-horn
pickaxes
,
that
crumbled
to
pieces
when
we
brought
them
to
grass
;
and
they
say
,
that
if
a
man
will
listen
,
sir
,
of
a
still
night
,
about
those
old
shafts
,
he
may
hear
the
ghosts
of
them
at
working
,
knocking
,
and
picking
,
as
clear
as
if
there
was
a
man
at
work
in
the
next
level
.
It
may
be
all
an
old
fancy
.
I
suppose
it
is
.
But
I
believed
it
when
I
was
a
boy
;
and
it
helped
the
work
in
me
that
night
.
But
I’ll
go
on
with
my
story.’
‘Go
on
with
what
you
like
,
’
said
Lancelot
.
‘Well
,
sir
,
I
was
down
on
my
knees
among
the
furze-bushes
,
and
I
tried
to
pray
;
but
I
was
too
frightened
,
for
I
felt
the
beast
I
had
been
,
sir
;
and
I
expected
the
ground
to
open
and
let
me
down
every
moment
;
and
then
there
came
by
over
my
head
a
rushing
,
and
a
cry
.
“
Ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
Paul
!
”
it
said
;
and
it
seemed
as
if
all
the
devils
and
witches
were
out
on
the
wind
,
a-laughing
at
my
misery
.
“
Oh
,
I’ll
mend
—
I’ll
repent
,
”
I
said
,
“
indeed
I
will
:
”
and
again
it
came
back
,
—
“
Ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
Paul
!
”
it
said
.
I
knew
afterwards
that
it
was
a
bird
;
but
the
Lord
sent
it
to
me
for
a
messenger
,
no
less
,
that
night
.
And
I
shook
like
a
reed
in
the
water
;
and
then
,
all
at
once
a
thought
struck
me
.
“
Why
should
I
be
a
coward
?
Why
should
I
be
afraid
of
shafts
,
or
devils
,
or
hell
,
or
anything
else
?
If
I
am
a
miserable
sinner
,
there’s
One
died
for
me
—
I
owe
him
love
,
not
fear
at
all
.
I’ll
not
be
frightened
into
doing
right
—
that’s
a
rascally
reason
for
repentance
.
”
And
so
it
was
,
sir
,
that
I
rose
up
like
a
man
,
and
said
to
the
Lord
Jesus
,
right
out
into
the
black
,
dumb
air
,
—
“
If
you’ll
be
on
my
side
this
night
,
good
Lord
,
that
died
for
me
,
I’ll
be
on
your
side
for
ever
,
villain
as
I
am
,
if
I’m
worth
making
any
use
of
.
”
And
there
and
then
,
sir
,
I
saw
a
light
come
over
the
bushes
,
brighter
,
and
brighter
,
up
to
me
;
and
there
rose
up
a
voice
within
me
,
and
spoke
to
me
,
quite
soft
and
sweet
,
—
“
Fear
not
,
Paul
,
for
I
will
send
thee
far
hence
unto
the
Gentiles
.
”
And
what
more
happened
I
can’t
tell
,
for
when
I
woke
I
was
safe
at
home
.
My
father
and
his
folk
had
been
out
with
lanterns
after
me
;
and
there
they
found
me
,
sure
enough
,
in
a
dead
faint
on
the
ground
.
But
this
I
know
,
sir
,
that
those
words
have
never
left
my
mind
since
for
a
day
together
;
and
I
know
that
they
will
be
fulfilled
in
me
this
tide
,
or
never.’
Lancelot
was
silent
a
few
minutes
.
‘I
suppose
,
Tregarva
,
that
you
would
call
this
your
conversion
?
’
‘I
should
call
it
one
,
sir
,
because
it
was
one.’
‘Tell
me
now
,
honestly
,
did
any
real
,
practical
change
in
your
behaviour
take
place
after
that
night
?
’
‘As
much
,
sir
,
as
if
you
put
a
soul
into
a
hog
,
and
told
him
that
he
was
a
gentleman’s
son
;
and
,
if
every
time
he
remembered
that
,
he
got
spirit
enough
to
conquer
his
hoggishness
,
and
behave
like
a
man
,
till
the
hoggishness
died
out
of
him
,
and
the
manliness
grew
up
and
bore
fruit
in
him
,
more
and
more
each
day.’
Lancelot
half
understood
him
,
and
sighed
.
A
long
silence
followed
,
as
they
paced
on
past
lonely
farmyards
,
from
which
the
rich
manure-water
was
draining
across
the
road
in
foul
black
streams
,
festering
and
steaming
in
the
chill
night
air
.
Lancelot
sighed
as
he
saw
the
fruitful
materials
of
food
running
to
waste
,
and
thought
of
the
‘over-population’
cry
;
and
then
he
looked
across
to
the
miles
of
brown
moorland
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
valley
,
that
lay
idle
and
dreary
under
the
autumn
moon
,
except
where
here
and
there
a
squatter’s
cottage
and
rood
of
fruitful
garden
gave
the
lie
to
the
laziness
and
ignorance
of
man
,
who
pretends
that
it
is
not
worth
his
while
to
cultivate
the
soil
which
God
has
given
him
.
‘Good
heavens
!
’
he
thought
,
‘had
our
forefathers
had
no
more
enterprise
than
modern
landlords
,
where
should
we
all
have
been
at
this
moment
?
Everywhere
waste
?
Waste
of
manure
,
waste
of
land
,
waste
of
muscle
,
waste
of
brain
,
waste
of
population
—
and
we
call
ourselves
the
workshop
of
the
world
!
’
As
they
passed
through
the
miserable
hamlet-street
of
Ashy
,
they
saw
a
light
burning
in
window
.
At
the
door
below
,
a
haggard
woman
was
looking
anxiously
down
the
village
.
‘What’s
the
matter
,
Mistress
Cooper
?
’
asked
Tregarva
.
‘Here’s
Mrs.
Grane’s
poor
girl
lying
sick
of
the
fever
—
the
Lord
help
her
!
and
the
boy
died
of
it
last
week
.
We
sent
for
the
doctor
this
afternoon
,
and
he’s
busy
with
a
poor
soul
that’s
in
her
trouble
;
and
now
we’ve
sent
down
to
the
squire’s
,
and
the
young
ladies
,
God
bless
them
!
sent
answer
they’d
come
themselves
straightway.’
‘No
wonder
you
have
typhus
here
,
’
said
Lancelot
,
‘with
this
filthy
open
drain
running
right
before
the
door
.
Why
can’t
you
clean
it
out
?
’
‘Why
,
what
harm
does
that
do
?
’
answered
the
woman
,
peevishly
.
‘Besides
,
here’s
my
master
gets
up
to
his
work
by
five
in
the
morning
,
and
not
back
till
seven
at
night
,
and
by
then
he
ain’t
in
no
humour
to
clean
out
gutters
.
And
where’s
the
water
to
come
from
to
keep
a
place
clean
?
It
costs
many
a
one
of
us
here
a
shilling
a
week
the
summer
through
to
pay
fetching
water
up
the
hill
.
We’ve
work
enough
to
fill
our
kettles
.
The
muck
must
just
lie
in
the
road
,
smell
or
none
,
till
the
rain
carries
it
away.’
Lancelot
sighed
again
.
‘It
would
be
a
good
thing
for
Ashy
,
Tregarva
,
if
the
weir-pool
did
,
some
fine
morning
,
run
up
to
Ashy
Down
,
as
poor
Harry
Verney
said
on
his
deathbed.’
‘There
won’t
be
much
of
Ashy
left
by
that
time
,
sir
,
if
the
landlords
go
on
pulling
down
cottages
at
their
present
rate
;
driving
the
people
into
the
towns
,
to
herd
together
there
like
hogs
,
and
walk
out
to
their
work
four
or
five
miles
every
morning.’
‘Why
,
’
said
Lancelot
,
‘wherever
one
goes
one
sees
commodious
new
cottages
springing
up.’
‘Wherever
you
go
,
sir
;
but
what
of
wherever
you
don’t
go
?
Along
the
roadsides
,
and
round
the
gentlemen’s
parks
,
where
the
cottages
are
in
sight
,
it’s
all
very
smart
;
but
just
go
into
the
outlying
hamlets
—
a
whited
sepulchre
,
sir
,
is
many
a
great
estate
;
outwardly
swept
and
garnished
,
and
inwardly
full
of
all
uncleanliness
,
and
dead
men’s
bones.’
At
this
moment
two
cloaked
and
veiled
figures
came
up
to
the
door
,
followed
by
a
servant
.
There
was
no
mistaking
those
delicate
footsteps
,
and
the
two
young
men
drew
back
with
fluttering
hearts
,
and
breathed
out
silent
blessings
on
the
ministering
angels
,
as
they
entered
the
crazy
and
reeking
house
.
‘I’m
thinking
,
sir
,
’
said
Tregarva
,
as
they
walked
slowly
and
reluctantly
away
,
‘that
it
is
hard
of
the
gentlemen
to
leave
all
God’s
work
to
the
ladies
,
as
nine-tenths
of
them
do.’
‘And
I
am
thinking
,
Tregarva
,
that
both
for
ladies
and
gentlemen
,
prevention
is
better
than
cure.’
‘There’s
a
great
change
come
over
Miss
Argemone
,
sir
.
She
used
not
to
be
so
ready
to
start
out
at
midnight
to
visit
dying
folk
.
A
blessed
change
!
’
Lancelot
thought
so
too
,
and
he
thought
that
he
knew
the
cause
of
it
.
Argemone’s
appearance
,
and
their
late
conversation
,
had
started
a
new
covey
of
strange
fancies
.
Lancelot
followed
them
over
hill
and
dale
,
glad
to
escape
a
moment
from
the
mournful
lessons
of
that
evening
;
but
even
over
them
there
was
a
cloud
of
sadness
.
Harry
Verney’s
last
words
,
and
Argemone’s
accidental
whisper
about
‘a
curse
upon
the
Lavingtons
,
’
rose
to
his
mind
.
He
longed
to
ask
Tregarva
,
but
he
was
afraid
—
not
of
the
man
,
for
there
was
a
delicacy
in
his
truthfulness
which
encouraged
the
most
utter
confidence
;
but
of
the
subject
itself
;
but
curiosity
conquered
.
‘What
did
Old
Harry
mean
about
the
Nun-pool
?
’
he
said
at
last
.
‘Every
one
seemed
to
understand
him.’
‘Ah
,
sir
,
he
oughtn’t
to
have
talked
of
it
!
But
dying
men
,
at
times
,
see
over
the
dark
water
into
deep
things
—
deeper
than
they
think
themselves
.
Perhaps
there’s
one
speaks
through
them
.
But
I
thought
every
one
knew
the
story.’
‘I
do
not
,
at
least.’
‘Perhaps
it’s
so
much
the
better
,
sir.’
‘Why
?
I
must
insist
on
knowing
.
It
is
necessary
—
proper
,
that
is
—
that
I
should
hear
everything
that
concerns
—
’
‘I
understand
,
sir
;
so
it
is
;
and
I’ll
tell
you
.
The
story
goes
,
that
in
the
old
Popish
times
,
when
the
nuns
held
Whitford
Priors
,
the
first
Mr.
Lavington
that
ever
was
came
from
the
king
with
a
warrant
to
turn
them
all
out
,
poor
souls
,
and
take
the
lands
for
his
own
.
And
they
say
the
head
lady
of
them
—
prioress
,
or
abbess
,
as
they
called
her
—
withstood
him
,
and
cursed
him
,
in
the
name
of
the
Lord
,
for
a
hypocrite
who
robbed
harmless
women
under
the
cloak
of
punishing
them
for
sins
they’d
never
committed
(
for
they
say
,
sir
,
he
went
up
to
court
,
and
slandered
the
nuns
there
for
drunkards
and
worse
)
.
And
she
told
him
,
“
That
the
curse
of
the
nuns
of
Whitford
should
be
on
him
and
his
,
till
they
helped
the
poor
in
the
spirit
of
the
nuns
of
Whitford
,
and
the
Nun-pool
ran
up
to
Ashy
Down.’
”
‘That
