THE CROSS-EXAMINATION.
Mr Gribble had been there before her, of course. He had trotted over,
big with importance, and ruffled like an angry cockerel, directly
after breakfast, to tell the parson of the discovery he had made. But
somewhat to his astonishment, and greatly to his indignation, his story
was not received with the horror he had anticipated. Mr Measures was
a good, fatherly man, full of sympathy for the young and friendless,
and slow to suspect evil, because he committed none. His wife followed
his example, and was, moreover, much more cordially disposed towards
the school teacher than towards the churchwarden. So they heard Mr
Gribble’s account in silence, and then Mr Measures remarked that he
did not suppose that Miss Stafford intended her action to be taken as
either unkind or rude. Mr Gribble stared.
‘Unkind or rude, sir. You can scarcely have understood my meaning.
It is not the young woman’s _action_ I complain of, though that was
irreverent enough towards a man of _my_ position. But it is the
_reason_ for the action that forms the scandal. A _man_, Mr Measures--a
rough-looking, bearded man, sitting in an unmarried woman’s apartments
at nine o’clock at night. What do you think of _that_, sir? What do you
think of that?’
Mr Measures was one of those good old-fashioned clergymen who have
never dreamt of wearing cassocks or chasubles, or departing from the
ways of the first half of the century. He gave his parishioners three
full-barrelled services every Sunday, and let them do pretty much
as they chose for the rest of the week. He put his hands under his
coat tails as Gribble finished his sentence and looking down upon him
blandly, replied with a smile,--
‘Tell me what _you_ think of it, Mr Gribble.’
At these words Mrs Measures raised her eyes from her needlework, and
fixed them expectantly on the churchwarden, and Gribble felt he was the
chosen one to make the parson and his wife see Miss Stafford’s conduct
in its proper light.
‘What I think, sir?’ he reiterated. ‘Well, I think that it is simply
_disgraceful_.’
‘Oh, Mr Gribble, that is too hard a word,’ interposed the sweet voice
of Mrs Measures. ‘Pray think of whom you are speaking. Miss Stafford
has always conducted herself in the most discreet manner since coming
to Deepdale--and I do not believe that such a term as _disgrace_ can be
associated with her name.’
‘Very well, madam, very well. You must think as you choose,’ replied Mr
Gribble, ‘but I am a heye-witness of what occurred, and I don’t agree
with you. My daughters heard Miss Stafford make an appointment with
this stranger, in Spring’s shop, in the afternoon, and there he was
drinking tea with her in the evening. Do you call that respectable,
ma’am? _She_ knew what people would call it herself. She tried to hold
the door against my entrance--against _me_, Mr Measures, who engaged
her for the situation--and if I hadn’t pushed my way in, I shouldn’t
have seen the fellow at all.’
‘Well, I don’t think you had a right to force your way in to _any_
woman’s private apartments, Mr Gribble,’ said Mrs Measures indignantly.
‘I agree with my wife, that you exceeded your duty,’ acquiesced the
parson, ‘and I trust that it will not recur. The guardians of the
parish have nothing to do with Miss Stafford after school hours, nor
any authority to interfere with her seeing her friends.’
‘But the _time_, sir; you seem to forget the time!’ exclaimed Gribble,
who was working himself up into a fury. ‘Besides, that is not all. As
I left the schoolhouse--I may say, as I was _put out_ of it--I met
young Rushton going in as familiarly as if he lived there. Is _that_ as
it ought to be? Miss Stafford would have been driving about with that
young man all yesterday afternoon if I had not taken her into Haltham
myself. And I think we all know pretty well what sort of gentleman Mr
Rushton is.’
‘Come! come!’ interrupted the parson, ‘you are going too far. I have
never heard anything against the character of Mr Rushton. In fact, I
think he is a young man to be highly respected. It appears to me, Mr
Gribble, that you are viewing the whole matter with a jaundiced eye.
So long as Miss Stafford does her duty to the children of Deepdale,
what can it signify to you or anyone what friends she receives in her
private apartments when her long day’s work is over?’
‘No, indeed,’ added Mrs Measures. ‘I am sure the poor girl must need a
little recreation, for she slaves herself to death in the schoolroom.’
Mr Gribble folded his arms, and looked from the husband to the wife in
silent amazement.
‘What can it signify?’ he reiterated. ‘Well, Mr Measures, I never
thought to hear such a question from your lips. Don’t this young woman
have the charge of our innocent _gurls_ from morning to night? Don’t
they imbibe her opinions and retain her impressions, and is a person
whose conduct is open to the slightest suspicion in regard to levity
fit to have the planting of the precious seed in their souls? I’m
sorry, Mr Measures, as we don’t see this thing in the same light, but
Mr Axworthy and me, and several others, have talked it over, sir, and
we have come to the conclusion that whilst Miss Stafford refuses to
explain her conduct, or to promise to alter it, that we shall withdraw
our children from attending the school, and educate them elsewhere.’
Mrs Measures looked distressed, and her husband stroked his shorn chin
thoughtfully. The matter was becoming serious. If the village people
clubbed together to ostracise Miss Stafford, the funds for the payment
of her salary would not be forthcoming.
‘You surely cannot be in earnest, Mr Gribble?’ he said at length. ‘You
cannot mean to ruin this young woman’s prospects for such a trifle?’
‘_We_ don’t think it a trifle, Mr Measures, and we _are_ in earnest--me
and Axworthy, and Green and Wilson. You see, we are all married men,
sir, and the ladies have determined that an explanation is doo to them,
and so it is to all of us--in my opinion.’
‘But has anyone asked Miss Stafford for an explanation?’ demanded Mr
Measures.
‘No, sir. We leave that to you, as the proper person to protect the
morals of Deepdale.’
‘I am _sure_ there will be no difficulty about it,’ said Mrs Measures
anxiously. ‘Miss Stafford has never tried to conceal any of her doings
from us yet. Edward, dear, why not ask her to come over here this
afternoon, and put the question to her yourself? She will tell you at
once who her visitor was, and then Mr Gribble will be satisfied.’
‘If she promises the offence shall not be repeated,’ said the
churchwarden cautiously.
‘You have to prove first that it _was_ an offence,’ observed Mr
Measures, in a tone of rebuke. ‘However, I will do as my wife suggests,
and you and Mr Axworthy can meet Miss Stafford here at five o’clock, if
it pleases you, and hear what she has to tell me about her visitor.’
‘That is all we ask for, sir, and we will be punctual,’ replied
Mr Gribble; and, accordingly, when the school teacher entered the
parsonage she found the two churchwardens awaiting her. The party
was assembled in the drawing-room, and as Miss Stafford entered it,
with her sweet face rather flushed by annoyance and expectation, Mrs
Measures rose promptly to bid her welcome.
‘I hope it did not inconvenience you to come over, my dear,’ she said
kindly, ‘but Mr Measures wanted to see you particularly this afternoon.’
‘Yes; I understand,’ said Paula simply.
‘Miss Stafford,’ commenced the clergyman, ‘I have such perfect faith in
your discretion and candour that I have no hesitation in asking you to
answer me a few questions. It seems that a visitor whom you entertained
last night at the schoolhouse has furnished the subject for some
unpleasant remarks respecting yourself, and I want you to tell me the
whole truth about him, in order that I may contradict any idle stories
his visit may have provoked.’
Paula’s face had assumed rather a haughty look during this little
tirade, and at the close of it she asked briefly,--
‘What is it you wish to know, sir?’
‘Who was the man who visited you last evening?’
‘An old friend of mine.’
‘How did he find you out?’
‘I met him unexpectedly in Haltham yesterday.’
‘Perhaps he is a relation?’
‘No, sir; we are not related.’
‘What is his name?’
‘That I cannot tell you, Mr Measures.’
‘Mr Gribble tells me he was a sailor?’
‘Yes, he is a sailor.’
‘Where did you make his acquaintance, then?’
‘That question, also, you must excuse my answering, sir. It belongs to
my past life, and has nothing to do with Deepdale.’
‘Oh, yes, it has, Miss Stafford, as you will soon see,’ exclaimed Mr
Gribble, chuckling.
‘Are these two men brought here to be my judges, Mr Measures?’ said
Paula quickly.
‘No, no, my dear,’ replied the parson; ‘but it will be to your
advantage if you can satisfy their natural curiosity on the subject.’
‘Unpardonable curiosity, you mean,’ amended Mrs Measures warmly.
‘Edward, I object to this cross-examination altogether. It is unworthy
of you, and insulting to Miss Stafford, who has always conducted
herself with rigorous propriety in Deepdale. If she says that her
visitor was a respectable man (and I am sure she would receive none
other), her word should be sufficient for us and everyone. What is the
use of knowing his name?’
‘_I_ am quite ready to accept Miss Stafford’s word,’ said the parson.
‘Thank you both very much,’ replied Paula gratefully.
‘But _we_ are not so trusting, Miss Stafford--me and my good friend
and brother churchwarden here, Mr Axworthy,’ exclaimed Mr Gribble, who
had constituted himself spokesman; ‘nor the parish ain’t so trusting
either, as I have already told our good minister and his lady. We
demand a full explanation of the reason you had _two_ gentlemen in your
rooms last night, and we mean to have it.’
‘Do you?’ replied Paula, turning the full light of her blazing eyes
upon him, ‘then I refuse to give it you. If Mr and Mrs Measures are
satisfied that I meant no harm, and did no harm, I care nothing for
what anyone else may think or say. My rooms are my own, and whatever
visitors I admitted there did not, at all events, _force_ their way in
in the unmanly way that _you_ did, Mr Gribble.’
‘Very well, Mr Measures,’ said the little churchwarden, rising, ‘this
settles it. Neither _my_ daughters, nor Mr Axworthy’s daughters, nor
the daughters of none of our friends, will attend the parish school
again, until that young woman is removed from her office as teacher.’
‘My dear Miss Stafford, do consider,’ said the minister in a low voice;
‘your fate is in their hands. If the parish generally make up their
minds to withdraw their children from school, the funds to pay your
salary will not be forthcoming.’
‘I cannot help it, Mr Measures. I will rather starve than submit to
such tyranny. The--the--friend who came last night is not likely to
visit me again; but if he did, I could not refuse to receive him.’
‘Yet you will not tell me his name, or his errand?’
She shook her head.
‘It seems strange you should observe such reticence, Miss Stafford. A
young woman--almost a girl--like yourself can have no past history to
conceal. Will you confide this secret to Mrs Measures, who takes a real
interest in you?’
‘I will confide it to no one, sir. It concerns no one but myself.’
‘But I understand that young Rushton was also at your rooms last
evening.’
‘That is true, sir.’
‘After the first man had left you.’
‘After the first had left me. But he only stayed a short time, and the
door by which he entered was not even closed behind him.’
‘I am sorry, though, that you should have allowed him to come in. There
was no harm in it, I am sure. Still, the world is very censorious, and
a young unmarried woman cannot be too cautious in her behaviour.’
‘Well, Mr Measures,’ exclaimed Mr Gribble, aggressively, ‘and has the
young woman given you a satisfactory explanation of the unusual visit
she received last night?’
‘Miss Stafford is apparently not at liberty to disclose the name of the
gentleman, nor the object with which he entered the schoolhouse, but I
feel certain that she has no reason to be ashamed of either.’
‘I have not, sir,’ replied Paula.
‘Well, Mr Axworthy and me are not satisfied, sir, and we must beg as
you’ll give the young woman her notice. The parish school is meant
for the children of the parish, and we have a right to object to
such proceedings on the teacher’s part. We don’t want no scandals in
Deepdale, so the sooner she goes the better.’
‘Stop a moment, Mr Gribble, and be good enough to remember to whom you
are speaking,’ said Mr Measures with dignity; ‘it is for _me_ to decide
this question, and not you. Miss Stafford,’ he continued, turning to
Paula, ‘I think these men have a certain right on their side, though
they have forgotten to temper their justice with mercy. I think you
owe Deepdale a little more explanation than you have given. I mean with
regard--not to Mr Rushton, whom we all know--but this stranger. But I
wish to do nothing in a hurry. Take a couple of days to consider it,
and at the end of that time I will see you again. I think that will
suit all parties.’
‘I thank you, sir, for your indulgence,’ said Paula, ‘but you may as
well give me my notice at once, for it will make no difference. If I am
unworthy of being trusted in so small a matter, I must be unworthy to
have the charge of the children of this parish committed to me.’
‘Of course. That’s just what _I_ say,’ interposed Mr Gribble.
‘I prefer you should think the matter over quietly for a couple of
days,’ replied Mr Measures, without noticing the churchwarden’s remark,
‘and perhaps you may see your way out of the difficulty. My wife will
have a talk with you about it, too, and you know she sympathises with
you, and believes in you. Now, I will not detain you longer. And I
request, Mr Gribble, that neither you nor anybody else visits the
schoolhouse until this matter is settled. I will not have Miss Stafford
worried, nor annoyed in any way. You can do as you choose about your
children, but I forbid you, or your wives, intruding your opinions upon
her. Good-morning.’
The clergyman turned from them to shake hands with the school teacher,
and the two churchwardens shuffled out of the room, looking far less
pompous than they had done on entering it. Paula Stafford walked home
again very thoughtfully. As far as she was concerned, the matter was
already at a conclusion, for she had not the slightest intention
of disclosing Seth Brunt’s name, or rousing the public curiosity
concerning her past life. How could she tell that, once having a clue,
the inquisitive might not go on and on, until they had learned her
entire history. She had been thinking, ever since the sailor’s visit,
that it would be safer and better for her to turn her back on Deepdale.
He had come once, against her wishes, and he might come again, and he
was a terribly close link with what had gone before. In his enthusiasm
for his (so-called) friend, and his clumsy desire to set matters on a
less distressful footing, he might blurt out her story to anyone who
seemed likely to help him in the matter--might even take Hal Rushton
into his confidence, and try to enlist his sympathies and assistance.
Good Heavens! it was too great a risk to run. Seth Brunt had driven
her from the place for ever. She reached her home, weary and ill at
ease, for the thought of leaving Deepdale was linked with a terrible
disappointment and a heartache. Her little maid met her at the door
with sparkling, excited eyes.
‘Oh, please, teacher, young Mr Martin’s been to see you, and he’s
brought you such a beautiful posy, all jenny-remums and roses--and he’s
brought a noose-paper, too, and you’re to read it, please--and there’s
been a terrible haccident.’
‘An accident, Sarah--where?’
‘On the railway, teacher, and a heap of people killed; and Mr Martin
said ’twas the _Evening Noose_, and he brought it from Haltham
expressly for you to see.’
‘That was very kind of him, though I don’t much enjoy reading of
horrors. If you’ve laid the tea, Sarah, you can go home to your mother.
I shall not want anything more to-night.’
‘Ain’t you well, teacher?’ asked the girl.
‘I have a headache, my dear. That is all. I shall feel better when I
have had my tea.’
‘I ’ope no one’s been a-worrying of you,’ said Sarah sympathetically,
‘for Tom Green, the butcher’s son, told me Mr Gribble had been talking
of you in such a manner up at their shop this morning that his fingers
itched to knock him down.’
Paula flushed faintly.
‘That was very good of Tom, Sarah, but you mustn’t believe all he says,
nor Mr Gribble either. But run along now, for I must not talk to you,
or my head will ache worse than it does. Good-night.’
And dropping a respectful curtsey, the little serving maiden left her
teacher to herself. She poured out her cup of tea and took up the
newspaper listlessly, sighing as she unfolded it. If Gribble was
going about the village spreading scandal as he went, it would be
useless for her to attempt to stem the torrent of suspicion that would
dog her every movement. Better be out of it all--even at the cost of
relinquishing the sweetest hope that had come to her since she had
been her own mistress. She had not long to look for the account of the
railway accident. It blazed upon her view in the largest possible type
as soon as she glanced at the paper.
‘Terrible accident to the Northern Express. Collision with the 6 A.M.
from Haltham. Twenty passengers killed and wounded.’
Her eyes swam in mist. Her head grew dizzy. _Where_ had she heard of
the 6 A.M. train from Haltham? Suddenly it flashed upon her. It was
the one by which Brunt intended to travel to see his old mother at
Bonnysett. She turned quickly to the list of killed, which was given
below, and the first name she came across was that of _Seth Brunt,
mariner_.