"Dogged as does it."--TROLLOPE.
"Stead, Stead," cried Rusha, running up to him, as he was slowly digging
over his stubble field to prepare it for the next crop, "the soldiers
are in Elmwood."
"Yes," said Emlyn, coming up at the same time, "they are knocking about
everything in the church and pulling up the floor."
"Patience sent us to get some salt," explained Rusha, "and we saw them
from Dame Redman's door. She told us we had better be off and get home
as fast as we could."
"But I thought we would come and tell you," added Emlyn, "and then
you could get out the long gun and shoot them as they come into the
valley--that is if you can take aim--but I would load and show you how,
and then they would think it was a whole ambush of honest men."
"Aye, and kill us all--and serve us right," said Stead. "They don't
want to hurt us if we don't meddle with them. But there's a good wench,
Rusha, drive up the cows and sheep this way so that I can have an eye on
them, and shew Captain Venn's paper, if any of those fellows should take
a fancy to them."
"They are digging all over old parson's garden," said Rusha, as she
obeyed.
"Was Jeph there?" asked Stead.
"I didn't see him," said the child.
Steadfast was very uneasy. That turning up the parson's garden looked
as if they might be in search of the silver belonging to the Church, but
after all they were unlikely to connect him with it, and it was wiser
to go on with his regular work, and manifest no interest in the matter;
besides that, every spadeful he heaved up, every chop he gave the
stubble, seemed to be a comfort, while there was a prayer on his soul
all the time that he might be true to his trust.
By-and-by he saw Tom Oates running and beckoning to him, "Stead, Stead
Kenton, you are to come."
"What should I come for?" said Stead, gruffly.
"The soldiers want you."
"What call have they to me?"
"They be come to cleanse the steeple house, they says, and take the
spoil thereof, and they've been routling over the floor and parson's
garden like so many hogs, and are mad because they can't find nothing,
and Thatcher Jerry says, says he, 'Poor John Kenton as was shot was
churchwarden and was very great with Parson. If anybody knows where the
things is 'tis Steadfast Kenton.' So the corporal says, 'Is this so,
Jephthah Kenton?' and Jeph, standing up in his big boots, says, 'Aye,
corporal, my father was yet in the darkness of prelacy, and was what in
their blindness they call a Churchwarden, but as to my brother, that's
neither here nor there, he were but a boy and not like to know more than
I did.' But the corporal said, 'That we will see. Is the lad here?' So
I ups and said nay, but I'd seen you digging your croft, and then they
bade me fetch you. So you must come, willy-nilly, or they may send worse
after you."
Stead was a little consoled by hearing that his brother was there. He
suspected that Jeph would have consideration enough for his sisters and
for the property that he considered his own to be unwilling to show the
way to their valley; and he also reflected that it would be well that
whatever might happen to himself should be out of sight of his sisters.
Therefore he decided on following Oates, going through on the way the
whole question whether to deny all knowledge, and yet feeling that
the things belonging to God should not be shielded by untruth. His
resolution finally was to be silent, and let them make what they would
out of that, and Stead, though it was long since he had put it on, had a
certain sullen air of stupidity such as often belongs to such natures as
his, and which Jeph knew full well in him.
They came in sight of the village green where the soldiers were
refreshing themselves at what once had been the Elmwood Arms, for though
not given to excess, total abstinence formed no part of the discipline
of the Puritans; and one of the men started forward, and seizing hold of
Steadfast by the shoulder exclaimed--
"As I live, 'tis the young prelatist who bowed himself down in the house
of Rimmon! Come on, thou seed of darkness, and answer for thyself."
If he had only known it, he was making the part of dogged silence and
resistance infinitely easier to Steadfast by the rudeness and abuse,
which, even in a better cause, would have made it natural to him to act
as he was doing now, giving the soldier all the trouble of dragging him
onward and then standing with his hands in his pockets like an image of
obstinacy.
"Speak," said the corporal, "and it shall be the better for thee. Hast
thou any knowledge where the priests of Baal have bestowed the vessels
of their mockery of worship."
Stead moved not a muscle of his face. He had no acquaintance with
priests of Baal or their vessels, so that he was not in the least
bound to comprehend, and one of them exclaimed "The oaf knows not your
meaning, corporal. Speak plainer to his Somerset ears. He knows not the
tongue of the saints."
"Ho, then, thou child of darkness. Know'st thou where the mass-mongering
silver and gold of this church be hidden from them of whom it is written
'haste to the spoil.' Come, speak out. A crown if thou dost speak--the
lash if thou wilt not answer, thou dumb dog."
Stead was really not far removed from a dumb dog. All his faculties were
so entirely wrought up to resistance that he had hardly distinguished
the words.
"Come, come, Stead," said Jeph, "thou art too old for thine old sulky
moods. Speak up, and tell if thou know'st aught of the Communion Cup and
dish, or it will be the worse for thee. Yes or no?"
Stead made a move with his shoulder to push away his brother, and still
stood silent.
"There," said Jeph, "it is all Faithful's fault for his rough handling.
His back is set up. It was always so from a boy, and you'll get nought
out of him."
"Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child, but the rod of correction
shall drive it far from him," quoted the Corporal, taking up a
waggoner's whip which stood by the inn door, and the like of which had
no doubt once been a more familiar weapon to him than the sword.
"Speak lad--or--" and as no speech came, the lash descended on Stead's
shoulders, not, however, hurting him much save where it grazed the skin
of his face.
"Now? Not a word? Take off his leathern coat, Faithful, then shall he
feel the reward of sullenness."
That Jeph did not interfere, while Faithful and another soldier tugged
off his leathern coat, buffeting and kicking him roughly as they did so,
brought additional hardness to Stead. He had been flogged in his time
before, and not without reason, and had taken a pride in not giving in,
or crying out for pain; and the ancient habit acquired in a worse cause,
came to his help. He scarcely recollected the cause of his resistance;
all his powers were concentrated in holding out, and when after another
"Now, vile prelatic spawn, is thy heart still hardened? Yes or no?" the
terrible whip came stinging and biting down on his shoulders and
back, only protected by his shirt, he was entirely bound up in the
determination to endure the pain without a groan or cry.
But after blows enough had fallen to mark the shirt with streaks of
blood, Jeph could bear it no longer.
"Hold!" he said. "You will never make him speak that way. Father and
mother never could. Strokes do but harden him."
"The sure token of a fool," said the corporal, and prepared for another
lash.
"'Tis plain he knows," said one of the others. "He would never stand
this if a word would save him."
"Mere malice and obstinacy," said Faithful, "and wilfulness. He will
not utter a word. I would beat it out of him, as I was wont with our old
ass."
Another stroke descended, worse than all the others after the brief
interval, but Jeph again spoke, "Look you, I know the lad of old and
you'll get no more that way than if you were flogging the sign-post
there. Whether he knows where the things are or not, the temper that is
in him will never answer while you beat him, were it to save his life.
Leave him to me, and I'll be bound to get an answer from him."
"And I am constable, and I must say," said Blacksmith Blane, moving
forwards, with a bar of iron in his hand, and four or five stout men
behind him, "that to come and abuse and flog a hard-working, fatherless
lad, that never did you no harm, nor anyone else, is not what honest men
look for from soldiers that talk so big about Parliament and rights and
what not!"
"'Twas for contumacy," began the corporal.
"Contumacy forsooth, as though 'twas the will of the honest gentlemen in
Parliament that boys should be misused for nothing at all!"
"If the young dog would have spoken," began the corporal, but somehow he
did not like the look of Blane's iron bar, and thought it best to look
up at the sun, and discover that it was time to depart if the party were
to be in time for roll-call. As it was a private marauding speculation,
it might not be well to have complaints made to Captain Venn, who never
sanctioned plunder nor unnecessary violence. Even Jeph had to march off,
and Steadfast, who had no mind to be pitied, nor asked by the neighbours
what was the real fact, had picked up his spade and jerkin, and was out
of sight while the villagers were watching the soldiers away.
The first thing he did was to give thanks in heart that he had been
aided thus far not to betray his trust, and then to feel that Corporal
Dodd's flogging was a far severer matter than the worst chastisement he
had ever received from his father, even when he kept Jeph's secret about
the stolen apples. Putting on his coat was impossible, and he was so
stiff and sore that he could not hope to conceal his condition from
Patience.
At home all were watching for him. They ran up in anxiety, for one
of the ever ready messengers of evil had rushed down the glen to tell
Patience that the soldiers were beating Stead shamefully, and Jeph
standing by not saying one word. Little Ben broke out with "Poor, poor!"
and Rusha burst into tears at sight of the blood, while Emlyn said "Just
what comes of going among the rascal Roundheads," and Patience looked up
at him and said "Was it--?" he nodded, and she quietly said "I'm glad."
He added, "Jeph's coming soon," and she knew that the trial was not
over. The brother and sister needed very few words to understand one
another, and they were afraid to say anything that the younger ones
could understand. Patience washed the weals with warm water and milk,
and wrapped a cloak round him, but even the next morning, he could not
use his arms without fresh bleeding, and the hindrance to the work
was serious. He could do nothing but herd the cattle, and he was much
inclined to drive them to the further end of the moorland where Jephthah
would hardly find him, but then he recollected that Patience would be
left to bear the brunt of the attack, so that he would not go far
off, never guessing, poor fellow, that in his dull, almost blundering
fashion, he was doing like the heroes and the martyrs, but only feeling
that he must keep his trust at all costs. Jeph, however, did not come
that day or the next, so that inwardly, the wound-up feeling had passed
into a weariness of expectation, and outwardly the stripes had healed
enough for Stead to go about his work as usual only a little stiffly.
He went into Bristol on market day as usual, and then it was, on his way
out that Jeph joined him, saying it was to bid Patience and the little
ones farewell, since the marching orders were for the morrow. He was
unusually kind and good-natured; he had a load of comfits for Rusha and
Ben, and a stout piece of woollen stuff for Patience which he said was
such as he was told godly maidens wore, and which possibly the terror of
his steel cap and corslet had cheapened at the mercer's; also he had
a large packet of tractates for Stead's own reading, and he enquired
whether they possessed a Bible.
Stead wondered whether all this was out of regret at the treatment he
had undergone, or whether it was to put him off his guard, and this
occupied him when Jeph began to preach, as he did uninterruptedly for
the last mile, without any of the sense, if there were any, reaching the
mind of the auditor.
They reached the hut, the gifts were displayed; and when the young ones,
who were all a little afraid of the elder brother, had gone off to feast
upon the sweets, Jeph began with enquiries after Steadfast's back, and
he replied that it was mending fast, while Patience exclaimed at the
cruelty and wickedness of so using him.
"Why wouldn't he speak then?" said Jeph. "Yea or nay would have ended it
in a moment, but that's Stead's way. He looks like it now!" and he did,
elbows on knees, and chin on hands.
"Come now, Stead, thou canst speak to me! Was it all because Faithful
hauled thee about?"
"He did, and he had no call to," said Stead, surlily.
"Well, that's true, but I'm not hauling thee. Tell me, Stead, I mind now
that thou wast out with father that last day ere the Parson was taken
to receive his deserts. I don't believe that even thy churlishness
would have stood such blows if thou hadst known naught of the idolatrous
vessels, and couldst have saved thy skin by saying so! No answer. Why,
what have these malignants done for thee that thou shouldst hold by
them? Slain thy father! Burnt thine house! No fault of theirs that thou
art alive this day! Canst not speak?"
Jeph's temper giving way at the provocation, he forgot his conciliatory
intentions and seizing Stead by the collar shook him violently. Growler
almost broke his chain with rage, Patience screamed and flew to the
rescue, just as she had often done when they were all children together,
and Jeph threw his brother from him so that he fell on the root of a
tree, and lay for a moment or two still, then picked himself up again
evidently with pain, though he answered Patience cheerfully that it was
nought.
"Thou art enough to drive a man mad with thy surly silence," exclaimed
Jeph, whom this tussle had rendered much more like his old self, "and
after all, knowing that even though thou art not one of the holy ones,
thou wilt not tell a lie, it comes to the same thing. I know thou
wottest where these things are, and it is only thy sullen scruples that
hinder thee from speaking. Nevertheless, I shall leave no stone unturned
till I find them! For what is written 'Thou shalt break down their
altars.'"
"Jeph," said Stead, firmly. "You left home because of your grief and
rage at father's death. Would you have me break the solemn charge he
laid on me?"
"Father was a good man after his light," said Jeph, a little staggered,
"but that light was but darkness, and we to whom the day itself is
vouchsafed are not bound by a charge laid on us in ignorance. Any
way, he laid no bonds on me, but I must needs leave thee alone in thy
foolishness of bondage! Come, Patience, wench, and aid me, I know
this rock is honeycombed with caves, like a rabbit warren, no place so
likely."
"I help thee--no indeed'" cried Patience. "Would I aid thee to do what
would most grieve poor father, that thou once mad'st such a work about!
I should be afraid of his curse."
Possibly if Jeph had not pledged himself to his comrades to overcome
his brother's resistance, and bring back the treasures, he might have
desisted; but what he did was to call to Rusha to bring him a lantern,
and show him the holes, promising her a tester if she would. She brought
the lantern, but she was a timid, little, unenterprising thing, and was
mortally afraid of the caverns, a fear that Patience had thought it well
not to combat. Emlyn who had already scrambled all over the face of the
slope, and peeped into all, could have told him a great deal more about
them; but she hated the sight of a rebel, and sat on the ground making
ugly faces and throwing little stones after him whenever his back was
turned.
Stead, afraid to betray by his looks of anxiety, when Jeph came near the
spot, sat all the time with his elbows on his knees, and his hands
over his face, fully trusting to what all had agreed at the time of the
burial of the chest, that there was no sign to indicate its whereabouts.
He felt rather than saw that Jeph, after tumbling out the straw and fern
that served for fodder in the lower caves, where the sheep and pigs
were sheltered in winter, had scrambled up to the hermit's chapel, when
suddenly there was a shout, but not at all of exultation, and down among
the bushes, lantern and all came the soldier, tumbling and crashing into
the midst of an enormous bramble, whence Stead pulled him out with the
lantern flattened under him, and his first breathless words were--
"Beelzebub himself!" Then adding, as he stood upright, "he made full at
me, and I saw his eyes glaring. I heard him groaning. It is an unholy
popish place. No wonder!"
Patience and Rusha were considerably impressed, for it was astonishing
to see how horribly terrified and shaken was the warrior, who had been
in two pitched battles, and Ben screamed, and needed to be held in
Stead's arms to console him.
Jeph had no mind to pursue his researches any further. He only tarried
long enough to let Patience pick out half-a-dozen thorns from his cheeks
and hands, and to declare that if he had not to march to-morrow, he
should bring that singular Christian man, Captain Venn, to exorcise the
haunt of Apollyon. Wherewith he bade them all farewell, with hopes that
by the time he saw them again, they would have come to the knowledge of
the truth.
No sooner was he out of sight among the bushes than Emlyn seized on
Rusha, and whirled her round in a dance as well as her more substantial
proportions would permit, while Steadfast let his countenance expand
into the broad grin that he had all this time been stifling.
"What _do_ you think it was?" asked Patience, still awestruck.
"Why--the old owl--and his own bad conscience. He might talk big, but he
didn't half like going against poor father. Thank God! He has saved His
own, and that's over!"