IN CHARGE.
"My young friend, I must get up," Mr. Penniloe exclaimed, if so feeble a
sound could be called an exclamation. "It is useless to talk about my
pulse, and look so wise. Here have I been perhaps three days. I am not
quite certain, but it must be that. And who is there to see to the
parish, or even the service of the Church, while I lie like this? It was
most kind of you--I have sense enough to feel it--to hurry from your
long ride, without a bit to eat--Mrs. Muggridge said as much, and you
could not deny it. But up I must get; and more than that, I must get
out. It will soon be dark again, by the shadows on the blind, and I am
sure that there is something gone amiss, I know not what. But my duty is
to know it, and to see what I can do. Now go, and have some dinner,
while I just put on my clothes."
"Nothing of that sort, sir, will you do to-day. You are weaker than a
cat--as that stupid saying goes. That idiot Jackson has bled you to a
skeleton, put a seton in your neck, and starved you. And he has plied
you with drastics, by day and by night. Why, the moment I heard of that
Perliton booby getting you in his clutches--but thank God I was in time!
It is almost enough to make one believe in special Providences."
"Hush, Jemmy, hush? You cannot want to vex me now."
"Neither now, nor ever, sir; as you are well aware. So you must do
likewise, and not vex me. I have trouble enough of my own, without
rebellion by my patients."
"I forgot that, Jemmy. It was not kind of me. But I am not quite clear
in my head just now. I fear I am neglecting some great duty. But just
for the moment, I am not sure what it is. In a minute or two, I shall
remember what it is."
"No, you won't, my good friend, not for twenty hours yet;" the young
doctor whispered to himself. "You have had a narrow shave, and another
day of Jackson would have sent you to the world you think too much of.
There never was a man who dwelt in shadows--or in glory, as you take
it--with his whole great heart, as you do. Well, I wish there were more
of them, and that I could just be one."
The peace that had settled on the Parson's face was such as no
lineaments of man can win, without the large labours of a pure life
past, and the surety of recompense full in view. Fox kept his eye on
him, and found his pulse improve, as hovering slumber deepened into
tranquil sleep. "Rare stuff that!" he said, referring not to faith, but
to a little phial-bottle he had placed upon the drawers; "he shan't go
to glory yet, however fit he may be. It is high time,--I take it, for me
to have a little peck."
The young man was right. He had ridden thirty miles from his father's
house that afternoon, and hearing at the "Old Barn," as he called his
present home, of poor Mr. Penniloe's serious illness, had mounted his
weary mare again, and spurred her back to the rectory. Of the story with
which all the parish was ringing he had not heard a word as yet, being
called away by his anxious mother, on the very night after the Squire
was buried. But one thing had puzzled him, as he passed and repassed the
quiet streets of Perlycross--the people looked at him, as if he were a
stranger, and whispered to one another as he trotted by. Could they have
known what had happened to his father?
With the brown tops still upon his sturdy legs, and spurs thickly
clotted with Somerset mud (crustier even than that of Devon) Fox left
the bedroom with the door ajar, and found little Fay in a beehive chair,
kneeling with her palms put together on the back, and striving hard to
pray, but disabled by deep sobs. Her lovely little cheeks and thick
bright curls were dabbled into one another by the flood of tears; as a
moss-rose, after a thundershower, has its petals tangled in the broidery
of its sheath.
"Will he die, because I am so wicked? Will he die, because I cannot see
the face of God?" She was whispering, with streaming eyes intent upon
the sky-light, as if she were looking for a healthy Father there.
"No, my little darling, he will not die at all. Not for many years, I
mean, when Fay is a great tall woman."
The child turned round with a flash of sudden joy, and leaped into his
arms, and flung her hair upon his shoulders, and kissed him, vehemently,
"With a one, two, three!
If you want any more, you must kiss me."
like a true tiny queen of the nursery. Many little girls were very fond
of Dr. Fox; although their pretty loves might end in a sombre potion.
"Now shall I tell you what to do, my dear?" said the truly starving
doctor, with the smell of fine chops coming up the stairs, sweeter than
even riper lips; "you want to help your dear daddy, don't you?"
Little Fay nodded, for her heart was full again, and the heel-tap of a
sob would have been behind her words.
"Then go in very quietly, and sit upon that chair, and don't make any
noise, even with your hair. Keep the door as it is, or a little wider;
and never take your eyes from your dear father's face. If he keeps on
sleeping, you stay quiet as a mouse; if he opens his eyes, slip out
softly, and tell me. Now you understand all that, but you must not say a
word."
The child was gazing at him, with her whole soul in her eyes, and her
red lips working up and down across her teeth; as if her father's life
hung upon her self-control. Dr. Fox was hard put to it to look the
proper gravity. As if he would have put this little thing in charge, if
there had been any real charge in it!
"Grand is the faith of childhood. What a pity it gets rubbed out so
soon!" he said to himself, as he went down the stairs, and the child
crept into her father's room, as if the whole world hung upon her pretty
little head.
Mrs. Muggridge had lighted two new candles, of a size considered
gigantic then--for eight of them weighed a pound almost--and not only
that, but also of materials scarcely yet accepted as orthodox. For
"Composites" was their name, and their nature was neither sound tallow,
nor steadfast wax. Grocer Wood had sent them upon trial gratis; but he
was a Dissenter, though a godly man; and the housekeeper, being a
convert to the Church, was not at all sure that they would not blow up.
Therefore she lit them first for Dr. Fox, as a hardy young man, with
some knowledge of mixtures.
"He is going on famously, as well as can be, Muggridge;" the doctor
replied to her anxious glance. "He will not wake till twelve, or one
o'clock, to-morrow; and then I shall be here, if possible. The great
point then will be to feed him well. Beef-tea, and arrow-root, every two
hours, with a little port wine in the arrow-root. No port wine in the
house? Then I will send some, that came from my father's own cellar.
Steal all his clothes, and keep a female in the room. The Parson is a
modest man, and that will keep him down. But here comes my mutton chop.
Well done, Susanna! What a cook! What skill and science, at the early
age of ten!"
This was one of Dr. Jemmy's little jokes; for he knew that Susanna was
at least seventeen, and had not a vestige of cookery. But a doctor, like
a sexton, must be jolly, and leave the gravity to the middleman--the
parson.
But instead of cutting in with her usual protest, and claim to the
triumph, whatever it might be, Mrs. Muggridge to his surprise held back,
and considered his countenance, from the neighbourhood of the door. She
had always been ready with her tit-for-tat, or lifting of her hand in
soft remonstrance at his youthful levity. But now the good woman, from
behind the candles, seemed to want snuffing, as they began to do.
"Anything gone wrong in Perlycross, since I went away, Mrs. Muggridge?
I don't mean the great loss the parish has sustained, or this bad attack
of Mr. Penniloe's. That will be over, in a few days' time, now his
proper adviser is come back again. By the way, if you let Jackson come
in at this front door--no, it mustn't lie with you, I will write a
little note, polite but firm, as the papers say; it shall go to his
house by my boy Jack, to save professional amenities: but if he comes
before he gets it, meet him at the door with another, which I will leave
with you. But what makes you look so glum at me, my good woman? Out with
it, if I have hurt your feelings. You may be sure that I never meant to
do so."
"Oh sir, is it possible that you don't know what has happened?" Thyatira
came forward, with her apron to her eyes. She was very kind-hearted, and
liked this young man; but she knew how young men may be carried away,
especially when puffed up with worldly wisdom.
"I have not the least idea what you mean, Mrs. Muggridge." Fox spoke
rather sternly, for his nature was strong, and combative enough upon
occasion, though his temper was sweet and playful; and he knew that many
lies had been spread abroad about him, chiefly by members of his own
profession. "My ears are pretty sharp, as suits my name, and I heard you
muttering once or twice--'He can't have done it. I won't believe it of
him.' Now if you please, what is it I am charged with doing?"
"Oh sir, you frighten me when you look like that. I could never have
believed that you had such eyes."
"Never mind my eyes. Look here, my good woman. Would you like to have
wicked lies told about you? I have been away for three days, called
suddenly from home, before daylight on Saturday morning. My father was
seized with a sudden attack, for the first time in his life. He is
getting old; and I suppose a son's duty was to go. Very well, I leave
him on Tuesday morning, because I have urgent cases here; and he has his
own excellent doctor. I pass up the village, and everybody looks as if I
had cut his throat. I go home, concluding that I must be mazed--as you
people call it--from want of food and sleep. But when I get home, my own
man, and boy, and old Betty, all rush out, and stare at me. 'Are you
mad?' I call out, and instead of answering, they tell me the Parson is
dying, and at the mercy of Jervis Jackson. I know what that means, and
without quitting saddle come back here and rout the evil one. Then what
happens? Why, my very first mouthful is poisoned by the black looks of a
thoroughly good woman. Tell me what it is, or by George and the Dragon,
I'll ride home, and drag it out of my own people."
"Can you prove you were away, sir? Can you show when you left home?"
Thyatira began to draw nearer, and forgot to keep a full-sized chair
'twixt the Doctor and herself.
"To be sure, I can prove that I have been at Foxden, by at least a score
of witnesses, if needful."
"Thank the Lord in heaven, that He hath not quite forgotten us! Susanna,
have another plate hot, but be sure you don't meddle with the grid-iron.
Bad enough for Perlycross it must be anyhow; a disgrace the old parish
can never get over--but ever so much better than if you, our own
doctor----"
"Good-bye, Mrs. Muggridge! You'll see me to-morrow."
"Oh no, sir, no. I will tell you now just. How could I begin, when I
thought you had done it? At least I never thought that, I am sure. But
how was I to contradict it? And the rudest thing ever done outside of
London! The poor Squire's grave hath been robbed by somebody, and all
Perlycross is mad about it."
"What!" cried Jemmy Fox. "Do you mean Sir Thomas Waldron? It cannot be.
No one would dare to do such a thing."
"But some one hath, sir, sure enough. Mr. Jakes it was, sir, as first
found it out, and a more truthfuller man never lived in any parish. My
master doth not know a word of it yet. Thank the Lord almost for this
chill upon his lungs; for the blow might have killed him, if he had been
there, with such a disorderly thing on his back. We must hide it from
him, as long as ever we can. To tell the truth, I was frightened to let
you go up to him, with every one so positive about the one who did it.
But you wouldn't take no denial, and I am very glad you wouldn't. But do
have t'other chop, sir; it's a better one than this was. Oh, I beg your
pardon. I forgot to draw the blind down."
The truth was that she had been afraid till now to sever herself from
the outer world, and had kept Susanna on the kitchen stairs; but now she
felt as certain of the young man's innocence, as she had been of his
guilt before.
"Nothing more, thank you," said Fox, sitting back, and clenching his
hand upon the long bread-knife; "and so all the parish, and even you,
were only too delighted to believe that I, who have worked among you
nearly three years now, chiefly for the good of the poor and helpless,
and never taken sixpence when it was hard to spare--that I would rob the
grave of a man, whom I revered and loved, as if he were my father. This
is what you call Christianity, is it? And no one can be saved except
such Christians as yourselves! The only Christian in the parish is your
parson. Excuse me--I have no right to be angry with--with a woman, for
any want of charity. Come tell me this precious tale, and I'll forgive
you. No doubt the evidence is very strong against me."
Thyatira was not pleased with this way of taking it. She thought that
the charity was on her side, for accepting the doctor's own tale so
frankly. So she fell back upon her main buttress.
"If you please, Dr. Fox," she said with some precision; "as women be
lacking in charity, therefore the foremost of all godly graces, you
might think it fairer to see Sergeant Jakes, a military man and upright.
And being the first as he was to discover, I reckon he hath the first
right to speak out. Susanna seeth light in the schoolroom still though
all the boys be gone, and books into the cupboards. Ah, he is the true
branch for discipline. Do 'e good to look in at the window after dusk,
and the candles as straight as if the French was coming. 'I am the
Vine,' saith the Lord, 'and ye'--but you know what it is, Dr. Jemmy,
though seldom to be found, whether Church it be, or Chapel. Only if you
make a point of seeing the man that knoweth more than all of us put
together, the new pupil, Master Peckover, is a very obliging young
gentleman, and one as finds it hard upon him to keep still."
"Oh, he is come, is he? I have heard some tales of him. It struck me
there was more noise than usual in the pupils' room. Let me think a
moment, if you please. Yes, I had better see Sergeant Jakes. He may be a
queer old codger, but he will stick to what he sees and says. Tell those
noisy fellows, that they must keep quiet. They want High Jarks among
them with his biggest vine, as you seem to call his cane."