NEEDFUL RETURNS.
Now it happened that none of these people, thus rejoicing in the liberty
of the subject, had heard of the very sad state of things, mainly caused
by their own acts, and now prevailing at _Old Barn_. Tremlett knew that
he had struck a vicious blow, at the head of a man who had grappled him,
but he thought he had missed it and struck something else, a bag, or a
hat, or he knew not what, in the pell mell scuffle and the darkness. His
turn of mind did not incline him to be by any means particular as to his
conduct, in a hot and hard personal encounter; but knowing his vast
strength he generally abstained from the use of heavy weapons, while his
temper was his own. But in this hot struggle, he had met with a mutually
shattering blow from a staff, as straight as need be upon his right-hand
knuckles; and the pain from this, coupled with the wrath aroused at the
access of volunteer enemies, had carried him--like the raging elements
outside--out of all remembrance of the true "sacredness of humanity." He
struck out, with a sense of not doing the right thing, which is always
strengthened afterwards; and his better stars being ablink in the gale,
and the other man's gone into the milky way, he hit him too hard; which
is a not uncommon error.
Many might have reasoned (and before all others, Harvey Tremlett's wife,
if still within this world of reason; and a bad job it was for him that
she was now outside it) that nothing could be nobler, taking people as
we find them--and how else can we get the time to take them?--than the
behaviour of this champion wrestler. But, without going into such sweet
logic of affinity, and rhetoric of friends (whose minds have been made
up in front of it) there was this crushing fact to meet, that an
innocent man's better arm was in a smash.
No milder word, however medical, is fit to apply to Frank Gilham's poor
fore-arm. They might call it the _ulna_--for a bit of Latin is a solace,
to the man who feels the pain in a brother Christian's member--and they
might enter nobly into fine nerves of anatomy; but the one-sided
difficulty still was there--they had got to talk about it; he had got to
bear it.
Not that he made any coward outcry of it. A truer test of manliness (as
has been often said, by those who have been through either trial), truer
than the rush of blood and reckless dash of battle, is the calm,
open-eyed, and firm-fibred endurance of long, ever-grinding,
never-graduating pain. The pain that has no pang, or paroxysm, no
generosity to make one cry out "Well done!" to it, and be thankful to
the Lord that it must have done its worst; but a fluid that keeps up a
slow boil, by day and night, and never lifts the pot-lid, and never
whirls about, but keeps up a steady stew of flesh, and bone, and marrow.
"I fear there is nothing for it, but to have it off," Dr. Gronow said,
upon the third day of this frightful anguish. He had scarcely left the
patient for an hour at a time; and if he had done harsh things in his
better days, no one would believe it of him, who could see him now. "It
was my advice at first, you know; but you would not have it, Jemmy. You
are more of a surgeon than I am. But I doubt whether you should risk his
life, like this."
"I am still in hopes of saving it. But you see how little I can do,"
replied Fox, whose voice was very low, for he was suffering still from
that terrible concussion, and but for the urgency of Gilham's case, he
would now have been doctoring the one who pays the worst for it. "If I
had my proper touch, and strength of nerve, I never should have let it
come to this. There is a vile bit of splinter that won't come in, and I
am not firm enough to make it. I wish I had left it to you, as you
offered. After all, you know much more than we do."
"No, my dear boy. It is your special line. Such a case as Lady Waldron's
I might be more at home with. I should have had the arm off long ago.
But the mother--the mother is such a piteous creature? What has become
of all my nerve? I am quite convinced that fly-fishing makes a man too
gentle. I cannot stand half the things I once thought nothing of.
By-the-by, couldn't you counteract her? You know the old proverb--
'One woman rules the men;
Two makes them think again,'
It would be the best thing you could do."
"I don't see exactly what you mean," answered Jemmy, who had lost nearly
all of his sprightliness.
"Plainer than a pikestaff. Send for your sister. You owe it to yourself,
and her; and most of all to the man who has placed his life in peril, to
save yours. It is not a time to be too finical."
"I have thought of it once or twice. She would be of the greatest
service now. But I don't much like to ask her. Most likely she would
refuse to come, after the way in which I packed her off."
"My dear young friend," said Dr. Gronow, looking at him steadfastly, "if
that is all you have to say, you don't deserve a wife at all worthy of
the name. In the first place, you won't sink your own little pride; and
in the next, you have no idea what a woman is."
"Young Farrant is the most obliging fellow in the world," replied Fox,
after thinking for a minute. "I will put him on my young mare _Perle_,
who knows the way; and he'll be at Foxden before dark. If Chris likes to
come, she can be here well enough, by twelve or one o'clock to-morrow."
"Like, or no like, I'll answer for her coming; and I'll answer for her
not being very long about it," said the senior doctor; and on both
points he was right.
Christie was not like herself, when she arrived, but pale, and timid,
and trembling. Her brother had not mentioned Frank in his letter,
doubting the turn she might take about it, and preferring that she
should come to see to himself, which was her foremost duty. But young
Mr. Farrant, the Churchwarden's son, and pretty Minnie's brother, had no
embargo laid upon his tongue; and had there been fifty, what could they
have availed to debar such a clever young lady? She had cried herself
to sleep, when she knew all, and dreamed it a thousand times worse than
it was.
Now she stood in the porch of the _Old Barn_, striving, and sternly
determined to show herself rational, true to relationship, sisterly, and
nothing more. But her white lips, quick breath, and quivering eyelids,
were not altogether consistent with that. Instead of amazement, when
Mrs. Gilham came to meet her, and no Jemmy, she did not even feign to be
surprised, but fell into the bell-sleeves (which were fine things for
embracing) and let the deep throbs of her heart disclose a tale that is
better felt than told.
"My dearie," said the mother, as she laid the damask cheek against the
wrinkled one, and stroked the bright hair with the palm of her hand,
"don't 'e give way, that's a darling child. It will all be so different
now you are come. It was what I was longing for, day and night, but
could not bring myself to ask. And I felt so sure in my heart, my dear,
how sorry you would be for him."
"I should think so. I can't tell you. And all done for Jemmy, who was so
ungrateful! My brother would be dead, if your son was like him. There
has never been anything half so noble, in all the history of the world."
"My dear, you say that, because you think well of our Frankie--I have
not called him that, since Tuesday now. But you do think well of him,
don't you now?"
"Don't talk to me of thinking well indeed! I never can endure those weak
expressions. When I like people, I do like them."
"My dear, it reminds me quite of our own country, to hear you speak out
so hearty. None of them do it up your way, much; according to what I
hear of them. I feel it so kind of you, to like Frank Gilham."
"Well! am I never to be understood? Is there no meaning in the English
language? I don't like him only. But with all my heart, I love him."
"He won't care if doctors cut his arm off now, if he hath one left to go
round you."
The mother sobbed a little, with second fiddle in full view; but being
still a mother, wiped her eyes, and smiled with content at the
inevitable thing.
"One thing remember," said the girl, with a coaxing domestic smile, and
yet a lot of sparkle in her eyes; "if you ever tell him what you twisted
out of me, in a manner which I may call--well, too circumstantial--I am
afraid that I never should forgive you. I am awfully proud, and I can be
tremendous. Perhaps he would not even care to hear it. And then what
would become of me? Can you tell me that?"
"My dear, you know better. You know, as well as I do, that ever since he
saw you, he has thought of nothing else. It has made me feel ashamed,
that I should have a son capable of throwing over all the world
beside----"
"But don't you see, that is the very thing I like? Noble as he is, if it
were not for that, I--well, I won't go into it; but you ought to
understand. He can't think half so much of me, as I do of him."
"Then there is a pair of you. And the Lord has made you so. But never
fear, my pretty. Not a whisper shall he have. You shall tell him all
about it, with your own sweet lips."
"As if I could do that indeed! Why, Mrs. Gilham, was that what you used
to do, when you were young? I thought people were ever so much more
particular in those days."
"I can hardly tell, my dear. Sometimes I quite forget, because it seems
so long ago; and at other times I'm not fit to describe it, because I am
doing it over again. But for pretty behaviour, and nice ways--nice
people have them in every generation; and you may take place with the
best of them. But we are talking, as if nothing was the matter. And you
have never asked even how we are going on!"
"Because I know all about it, from the best authority. Coming up the
hill we met Dr. Gronow, and I stopped the chaise to have a talk with
him. He does not think the arm will ever be much good again; but he
leaves it to younger men, to be certain about anything. That was meant
for Jemmy, I suppose. He would rather have the pain, than not, he says;
meaning of course in the patient--not himself. It shows healthy
action--though I can't see how--and just the proper quantity of
inflammation, which I should have thought couldn't be too little. He has
come round to Jemmy's opinion this morning, that if one--something or
other--can be got to stay in its place, and not do something or
other--the poor arm may be saved, after all; though never as strong as
it was before. He says it must have been a frightful blow. I hope that
man will be punished for it heavily."
"I hope so too, with all my heart; though I am not revengeful. Mr.
Penniloe was up here yesterday, and he tried to make the best of it. I
was so vexed that I told him, he would not be quite such a Christian
about it perhaps, if he had the pain in his own arm. But he has made the
man promise to give himself up, if your brother, or my son, require it.
I was for putting him in jail at once, but the others think it better to
wait a bit. But as for his promise, I wouldn't give much for that.
However, men manage those things, and not women. Did the doctor say
whether you might see my Frankie?"
"He said I might see Jemmy; though Jemmy is very queer. But as for
Frank, if I saw him through a chink in the wall, that would be quite
enough. But he must not see me, unless it was with a telescope through a
two-inch door. That annoyed me rather. As if we were such babies! But he
said that you were a most sensible woman, and that was the advice you
gave him."
"What a story! Oh my dear, never marry a doctor--though I hope you will
never have the chance--but they really don't seem to care what they say.
It was just the same in my dear husband's time. Dr. Gronow said to
me--'if she comes when I am out, don't let her go near either of them.
She might do a lot of mischief. She might get up an argument, or
something.' And so, I said----"
"Oh, Mrs. Gilham, that is a great deal worse than telling almost any
story. An argument! Do I ever argue? I had better have stayed away, if
that is the way they think of me. A telescope and a two-inch door, and
not be allowed perhaps to open my mouth! There is something exceedingly
unjust in the opinions men entertain of women."
"Not my Frank, my dear. That is where he differs from all the other
young men in the world. He has the most correct and yet exalted views;
such as poets had, when there were any. If you could only hear him going
on about you, before he got that wicked knock I mean, of course,--his
opinions not only of your hair and face, nor even your eyes, though all
perfectly true, but your mind, and your intellect, and disposition, and
power of perceiving what people are, and then your conversation--almost
too good for us, because of want of exercise--and then, well I really
forget what came next."
"Oh, Mrs. Gilham, it is all so absurd! How could he talk such nonsense?
I don't like to hear of such things; and I cannot believe there could be
anything, to come next."
"Oh yes, there was, my dear, now you remind me of it. It was about the
small size of your ears, and the lovely curves inside them. He had found
out in some ancient work,--for I believe he could hold his own in Greek
and Latin, even with Mr. Penniloe,--that a well-shaped ear is one of the
rarest of all feminine perfections. That made him think no doubt of
yours, for men are quite babies when they are in love; and he found
yours according to the highest standard. Men seem to make all those
rules about us, simply according to their own ideas! What rules do we
ever make about them?"
"I am so glad that you look at things in that way," Christie answered,
with her fingers going slyly up her hair, to let her ears know what was
thought of them; "because I was afraid that you were too much--well
perhaps that thinking so much of your son, you might look at things
one-sidedly. And yet I might have known from your unusual common
sense--but I do believe Dr. Gronow is coming back; and I have not even
got my cloak off! Wait a bit, till things come round a little. A
telescope, and a two-inch door! One had better go about in a coal-sack,
and curl-papers. Not that I ever want such things,--curves enough in my
ears perhaps. But really I must make myself a little decent. They have
taken my things up to my old room, I suppose. Try to keep him here, till
I come back. He says that I get up arguments. Let me get up one with
him."
"My orders are as stern as they are sensible;" Dr. Gronow declared, when
she had returned, beautifully dressed and charming, and had thus
attacked him with even more of blandishment than argument; "Your brother
you may see, but not to talk much at one time to him; for his head is
in a peculiar state, and he does much more than he ought to do. He
insists upon doing everything, which means perpetual attention to his
friend. But he does it all as if by instinct, apparently without knowing
it; and that he should do it all to perfection, is a very noble proof of
the thoroughness of his grounding. The old school, the old school of
training--there is nothing like it after all. Any mere sciolist, any
empiric, any smatterer of the new medical course--and where would Frank
Gilham's arm be now? Not in a state of lenitive pain, sanative, and in
some degree encouraging, but in a condition of incipient mortification.
For this is a case of compound comminuted fracture; so severe that my
own conviction was--however no more of that to you two ladies. Only feel
assured that no more could be done for the patient in the best hospital
in London. And talking of upstart schools indeed, and new-fangled
education, have you heard what the boys have done at Perlycross? I heard
the noise upstairs, and I was obliged to shut the window, although it is
such a soft spring-day. I was going down the hill to stop it, when I met
Miss Fox. It is one of the most extraordinary jokes I ever knew."
"Oh, do tell us. We have not heard a word about it. But I am beginning
to think that this is not at all a common place. I am never surprised at
anything that happens at Perlycross." This was not a loyal speech on the
part of the fair Christie.
"From what I have heard of that Moral Force-man," Mrs. Gilham remarked,
with slow shake of her head; "I fear that his system would work better
in a future existence, than as we are now. From what my son told me,
before his accident, I foresaw that it must lead up to something quite
outrageous. Nothing ever answers long, that goes against all the wisdom
of our ancestors."
"Excuse me for a minute; I must first see how things are going on
upstairs. As soon as I am at liberty, I will tell you what I saw. Though
I like the march of intellect, when discipline directs it."
Dr. Gronow, who was smiling, which he seldom was, except after whirling
out a two-ounce trout, went gently upstairs and returned in a few
minutes, and sat down to tell his little tale.
"Every thing there going on as well as can be. Your brother is
delighted to hear that you are come. But the other patient must not hear
a word about it yet. We don't want any rapid action of the heart. Well,
what the young scamps have done is just this. The new schoolmaster has
abolished canes, you know, and birches, and every kind of physical
compulsion. He exclaims against coercion, and pronounces that boys are
to be guided by their hearts, instead of being governed by their--pardon
me, a word not acknowledged in the language of these loftier days. This
gentleman seems to have abolished the old system of the puerile body and
mind, without putting anything of cogency in its place. He has
introduced novelties, very excellent no doubt, if the boys would only
take to them, with intellects as lofty as his own. But that is the very
thing the boys won't do. I am a Liberal--so far as feelings go, when not
overpowered by the judgment--but I must acknowledge that the best
extremes of life, the boyhood made of nature, and the age made of
experience, are equally staunch in their Toryism. But this man's great
word is--Reform. As long as the boys thought it meant their benches, and
expected to have soft cushions on them, they were highly pleased, and
looked forward to this tribute to a part which had hitherto been
anything but sacred. Their mothers too encouraged it, on account of wear
and tear; but their fathers could not see why they should sit softer at
their books, than they had to do at their trenchers.
"But yesterday unluckily the whole of it came out. There arrived a great
package, by old Hill the carrier, who has had his van mended that was
blown over, and out rushed the boys, without asking any leave, to bring
in their comfortable cushions. All they found was a great blackboard,
swinging on a pillar, with a socket at the back, and a staple and chain
to adjust it. Toogood expected them to be in raptures, but instead of
that they all went into sulks; and the little fellows would not look at
it, having heard of black magic and witchcraft. Toogood called it a
'Demonstration-table, for the exhibition of Object-lessons.'
"Mr. Penniloe, as you may suppose, had long been annoyed and unhappy
about the new man's doings, but he is not supreme in the week-day
school, as he is on Sunday; and he tried to make the best of it, till
the right man should come home. And I cannot believe that he went away
on purpose to-day, in order to let them have it out. But the boys found
out that he was going, and there is nobody else they care twopence for.
"Everybody says, except their mothers, that they must have put their
heads together over-night, or how could they have acted with such unity
and precision? Not only in design but in execution, the accomplished
tactician stands confessed. Instead of attacking the enemy at once, when
many might have hastened to his rescue, they deferred operations until
to-day, and even then waited for the proper moment. They allowed him to
exhaust all the best of his breath in his usual frothy oration--for like
most of such men he can spout for ever, and finds it much easier than
careful teaching.
"Then as he leaned back, with pantings in his chest, and eyes turned up
at his own eloquence, two of the biggest boys flung a piece of
clothes-line round his arms from behind, and knotted it, while another
slipped under the desk, and buckled his ankles together with a
satchel-strap, before he knew what he was doing. Then as he began to
shout and bellow, scarcely yet believing it, they with much panting and
blowing, protrusion of tongues, and grunts of exertion, some working at
his legs, and some shouldering at his loins, and others hauling on the
clothes-line, but all with perfect harmony of action, fetched their
preceptor to the Demonstration-board, and laying him with his back flat
against it, strapped his feet to the pedestal; then pulling out the
staple till the board was perpendicular, they secured his coat-collar to
the shaft above it, and there he was--as upright as need be, but without
the power to move, except at his own momentous peril. Then to make quite
sure of him, a clever little fellow got upon a stool, and drew back his
hair, bright red, and worn long like a woman's, and tied it with a
book-tape behind the pillar. You may imagine how the poor preceptor
looks. Any effort of his to release himself will crush him beneath the
great Demonstration, like a mouse in a figure-of-four trap."
"But are we to believe, Dr. Gronow," asked Christie, "that you came
away, and left the poor man in that helpless state?"
"Undoubtedly I did. It is no concern of mine. And the boys had only just
got their pea-shooters. He has not had half enough to cure him yet.
Besides, they had my promise; for the boys have got the keys, they are
charging a penny for a view of this Reformer; but they won't let any one
in without a promise of strict neutrality. I gave a shilling, for I am
sure they have deserved it. Somebody will be sure to cast him loose, in
plenty of time for his own good. This will be of the greatest service to
him, and cure him for a long time of big words."
"But suppose he falls forward upon his face, and the board falls upon
him and suffocates him. Why, it would be the death of Mr. Penniloe. You
are wanted here of course, Dr. Gronow; but I shall put my bonnet on, and
rush down the hill, to the release of the Higher Education."
"Don't rush too fast, Miss Fox. There's a tree blown down across the
lane, after you turn out of the one you came by. We ought to have had it
cleared, but they say it will take a fortnight to make some of the main
roads passable again. I would not go, if I were you. Somebody will have
set him free, before you get there. I'll go out and listen. With the
wind in the north, we can hear their hurrah-ing quite plainly at the
gate. You can come with me, if you like."
"Oh, it is no hurrahing, Dr. Gronow! How can you deceive me so? It is a
very sad sound indeed;" said Christie, as they stood at the gate, and
she held her pretty palms to serve as funnels for her much admired ears.
"It sounds like a heap of boys weeping and wailing. I fear that
something sadly vindictive has been done. One never can have a bit of
triumph, without that."
She scarcely knew the full truth of her own words. It was indeed an
epoch of Nemesis. This fourth generation of boys in that village are
beginning to be told of it, on knees that shake, with time, as well as
memory. And thus it befell.
"What, lock me out of my own school-door! Can't come in, without I pay
a penny! May do in Spain; but won't do here."
A strong foot was thrust into the double of the door, a rattle of the
handle ran up the lock and timber, and conscience made a coward of the
boy that took the pennies. An Odic Force, as the present quaky period
calls it, permeated doubtless from the Master hand. Back went the boy,
and across him strode a man, rather tall, wiry, torve of aspect,
hyporrhined with a terse moustache, hatted with a vast sombrero. At a
glance he had the whole situation in his eye, and his heart,--worst of
all, in his strong right arm. He flung off a martial cloak, that might
have cumbered action, stood at the end of the long desk, squared his
shoulders and eyebrows, and shouted--
"Boys, here's a noise!"
As this famous battle-cry rang through the room, every mother's darling
knew what was coming. Consternation is too weak a word. Grinning mouths
fell into graves of terror, castaway pea-shooters quivered on the floor,
fat legs rattled in their boots, and flew about, helter-skelter,
anywhere, to save their dear foundations. Vain it was; no vanishing
point could be discovered. Wisdom was come, to be justified of her
children.
The schoolmaster of the ancient school marched with a grim smile to the
door, locked it, and pocketed the key. Three little fellows, untaught as
yet the expediency of letting well alone, had taken the bunch of keys,
and brought forth, and were riding disdainfully the three canes dormant
under the new dispensation. "Bring me those implements," commanded
Sergeant Jakes, "perhaps they may do--to begin with." He arranged them
lovingly, and then spoke wisely.
"My dear young friends, it is very sad to find, that while I have been
in foreign parts, you have not been studying discipline. The gentleman,
whom you have treated thus, will join me, I trust, by the time I have
done, in maintaining that I do not bear the rod in vain. Any boy who
crawls under a desk may feel assured that he will get it ten times
worse."
Pity draws a mourning veil, though she keeps a place to peep through,
when her highly respected cousin, Justice, is thus compelled to assert
herself. Enough that very few indeed of the highly cultured boys of
Perlycross showed much aptitude that week for sedentary employment.