PASSION, as frequently is seen,
Subsiding, settles into spleen;
Hence, as the plague of happy life,
I ran away from party strife.--MATTHEW GREEN.
Here nymphs from hollow oaks relate
The dark decrees and will of fate.--_Ibid._
ACCORDING to his engagement, Vargrave breakfasted the next morning at
Burleigh. Maltravers at first struggled to return his familiar
cordiality with equal graciousness. Condemning himself for former and
unfounded suspicions, he wrestled against feelings which he could not or
would not analyze, but which made Lumley an unwelcome visitor, and
connected him with painful associations, whether of the present or the
past. But there were points on which the penetration of Maltravers
served to justify his prepossessions.
The conversation, chiefly sustained by Cleveland and Vargrave, fell on
public questions; and as one was opposed to the other, Vargrave's
exposition of views and motives had in them so much of the self-seeking
of the professional placeman, that they might well have offended any man
tinged by the lofty mania of political Quixotism. It was with a strange
mixture of feelings that Maltravers listened: at one moment he proudly
congratulated himself on having quitted a career where such opinions
seemed so well to prosper: at another, his better and juster sentiments
awoke the long-dormant combative faculty, and he almost longed for the
turbulent but sublime arena, in which truths are vindicated and mankind
advanced.
The interview did not serve for that renewal of intimacy which Vargrave
appeared to seek, and Maltravers rejoiced when the placeman took his
departure.
Lumley, who was about to pay a morning visit to Lord Doltimore, had
borrowed Mr. Merton's stanhope, as being better adapted than any
statelier vehicle to get rapidly through the cross-roads which led to
Admiral Legard's house; and as he settled himself in the seat, with his
servant by his side, he said laughingly, "I almost fancy myself naughty
master Lumley again in this young-man-kind of two-wheeled cockle-boat:
not dignified, but rapid, eh?"
And Lumley's face, as he spoke, had in it so much of frank gayety, and
his manner was so simple, that Maltravers could with difficulty fancy him
the same man who, five minutes before, had been uttering sentiments that
might have become the oldest-hearted intriguer whom the hot-bed of
ambition ever reared.
As soon as Lumley was gone, Maltravers left Cleveland alone to write
letters (Cleveland was an exemplary and voluminous correspondent) and
strolled with his dogs into the village. The effect which the presence
of Maltravers produced among his peasantry was one that seldom failed to
refresh and soothe his more bitter and disturbed thoughts. They had
gradually (for the poor are quick-sighted) become sensible of his
_justice_,--a finer quality than many that seem more amiable. They felt
that his real object was to make them better and happier; and they had
learned to see that the means he adopted generally advanced the end.
Besides, if sometimes stern, he was never capricious or unreasonable; and
then, too, he would listen patiently and advise kindly. They were a
little in awe of him, but the awe only served to make them more
industrious and orderly,--to stimulate the idle man, to reclaim the
drunkard. He was one of the favourers of the small-allotment
system,--not, indeed, as panacea, but as one excellent stimulant to
exertion and independence; and his chosen rewards for good conduct were
in such comforts as served to awaken amongst those hitherto passive,
dogged, and hopeless a desire to better and improve their condition.
Somehow or other, without direct alms, the goodwife found that the little
savings in the cracked teapot or the old stocking had greatly increased
since the squire's return, while her husband came home from his moderate
cups at the alehouse more sober and in better temper. Having already
saved something was a great reason why he should save more. The new
school, too, was so much better conducted than the old one; the children
actually liked going there; and now and then there were little village
feasts connected with the schoolroom; play and work were joint
associations.
And Maltravers looked into his cottages, and looked at the
allotment-ground; and it was pleasant to him to say to himself, "I am not
altogether without use in life." But as he pursued his lonely walk, and
the glow of self-approval died away with the scenes that called it forth,
the cloud again settled on his brow; and again he felt that in solitude
the passions feed upon the heart. As he thus walked along the green
lane, and the insect life of summer rustled audibly among the shadowy
hedges and along the thick grass that sprang up on either side, he came
suddenly upon a little group that arrested all his attention.
It was a woman, clad in rags, bleeding, and seemingly insensible,
supported by the overseer of the parish and a labourer.
"What is the matter?" asked Maltravers.
"A poor woman has been knocked down and run over by a gentleman in a gig,
your honour," replied the overseer. "He stopped, half an hour ago, at my
house to tell me that she was lying on the road; and he has given me two
sovereigns for her, your honour. But, poor cretur! she was too heavy for
me to carry her, and I was forced to leave her and call Tom to help me."
"The gentleman might have stayed to see what were the consequences of his
own act," muttered Maltravers, as be examined the wound in the temple,
whence the blood flowed copiously.
"He said he was in a great hurry, your honour," said the village
official, overhearing Maltravers. "I think it was one of the grand folks
up at the parsonage; for I know it was Mr. Merton's bay horse,--he is a
hot 'un!"
"Does the poor woman live in the neighbourhood? Do you know her?" asked
Maltravers, turning from the contemplation of this new instance of
Vargrave's selfishness of character.
"No; the old body seems quite a stranger here,--a tramper, or beggar, I
think, sir. But it won't be a settlement if we take her in; and we can
carry her to the Chequers, up the village, your honour."
"What is the nearest house,--your own?"
"Yes; but we be so busy now!"
"She shall not go to your house, and be neglected; and as for the
public-house, it is too noisy: we must move her to the Hall."
"Your honour!" ejaculated the overseer, opening his eyes.
"It is not very far; she is severely hurt. Get a hurdle, lay a mattress
on it. Make haste, both of you; I will wait here till you return."
The poor woman was carefully placed on the grass by the road-side, and
Maltravers supported her head, while the men hastened to obey his orders.