When Mrs Linacre was told in the evening of the arrival of the
disagreeable neighbours who were in the marsh, she was sorry; but when
she had gone round the premises with her husband at night, and found all
safe, and no tokens of any intrusion, she was disposed to hope that the
Redfurns would, this time, keep to their fishing and fowling, and make
no disturbance. Oliver and Mildred crept down to the garden hedge at
sunrise, and peeped through it, so as to see all that was doing in the
carr, as the marsh was called. [In that part of the country, a carr
means a morass.] After watching some time, they saw Stephen and Roger
creep out from under the low brown tent. As the almost level sun shone
full in their faces, they rubbed their eyes; then they stretched and
yawned, and seemed to be trying hard to wake themselves thoroughly.
"They have been sound asleep, however," observed Oliver to his sister;
"and it is still so early, that I do not believe they have been abroad
about mischief in the night. They would not have been awake yet if they
had."
"Look! There is a woman!" exclaimed Mildred. "Is that Nan?"
"Yes; that is Nan Redfurn,--Stephen's wife. That is their great net
that she has over her arm. They are going to draw the oval pond, I
think. We can watch their sport nicely here. They cannot see an inch
of us."
"But we do not like that they should watch us," said Mildred, drawing
back. "We should not like to know that they were peeping at us from
behind a hedge."
"We should not mind it if we were not afraid of them," replied Oliver.
"It is because they plot mischief that we cannot bear their prying. We
are not going to do them any mischief, you know; and they cannot mean to
make any secret of what they are doing in the middle of the carr, with
high ground all about it." Satisfied by this, Mildred crouched down,
with her arm about her brother's neck, and saw the great net cast, and
the pond almost emptied of its fish,--some few being kept for food, and
the small fry--especially of the stickleback--being thrown into heaps,
to be sold for manure.
"Will they come this way when they have done drawing the pond?" asked
Mildred, in some fear, as she saw them moving about.
"I think they will sweep the shallow waters, there to the left, for more
stickleback," replied Oliver. "They will make up a load, to sell before
the heat of the day, before they set about anything else."
Oliver was right. All the three repaired to the shallow water, and
stood among the reeds, so as to be half hidden. The children could see,
however, that when little George came down the garden, shouting to them
to come to breakfast, the strangers took heed to the child. They turned
their heads for a moment towards the garden, and then spoke together and
laughed.
"There, now!" cried Oliver, vexed: "that is all because we forgot to go
to breakfast. So much for my not having a watch! Mother need not have
sent George to make such a noise; but, if I had had a watch, he would
not have come at all; and these people would not have been put in mind
of us."
"You will soon be able to have a watch now, like the boys in Holland,"
said Mildred. "Your alabaster things will change away for a watch; will
not they? But we might not have remembered breakfast, if you had had a
watch."
"We are forgetting it now," said Oliver, catching up George and running
to the house, followed by Mildred, who could not help feeling as if
Roger was at her heels.
They were surprised to find how late it was. Their father was already
gone with Pastor Dendel's load of manure. Their mother only waited to
kiss them before she went, and to tell them the their father meant to be
back as soon as he could; and that meantime, neighbour Gool had promised
to keep an eye on the mill. If anything happened to frighten them,
Oliver or Ailwin had only to set the mill-sails agoing, and neighbour
Gool and his men would be with them presently. She did not think,
however, that anything would happen in the little time that their father
would be away.
"I will tell you what we will do!" cried Oliver, starting from his
chair, after he had been eating his bread and milk, in silence, for some
time after his mother's departure. "Let us dress up a figure to look
like father, and set him at the mill-window; so that those Redfurns
shall not find out that he is away. Won't that be good?"
"Put him on the mill-steps. They may not look up at the window."
"The mill-steps, then. Where is father's old hat? Put it on the broom
there, and see how it looks. Run up to the mill, dear, and bring his
jacket--and his apron," he shouted as his sister ran.
Mildred brought both, and they dressed up the broom.
"That will never do," said Mildred. "Look how the sleeves hang; and how
he holds his head! It is not a bit like a man."
"'Tis a good scarecrow," declared Ailwin. "I have seen many a worse
scarecrow than that."
"But this is to scare the Redfurns, and they are far wiser than crows,"
said Mildred. "Look how George pulls at the apron, and tugs at the
broomstick behind! It does not scare even him."
"It will look very different on the steps--in the open air," Oliver
declared. "A bunch or two of straw in the sleeves, and under the
jacket, will make it seem all alive."
And he carried it out, and tied it upon the mill-steps. It was no easy
matter to fasten it so as to make it look at all like a man naturally
mounting stairs. The more difficult it was, however, the more they all
became interested in the business. Mildred brought straw, and Ailwin
tied a knot here, and another knot there, while Oliver cocked the hat in
various directions upon the head, till they all forgot what they were
dressing up the figure for. The reason popped into Ailwin's head again,
when she had succeeded in raising the right arm to the rail, in a very
life-like manner.
"There!" said she, stepping backwards to view her work, "that makes a
very good master for me. I will obey him in everything he bids me till
master comes home."
At the same moment, she walked backwards against something, and little
George clung screaming to Mildred's knees. Roger had spread his arms
for Ailwin to walk back into; and Stephen was behind, leaning against
the cow-shed. They had been watching all that the party had been doing,
and, having overheard every word, had found out the reason.
The children saw at once how very foolish they had been; and the thought
confused them so much, that they did not know what to do next. Poor
Ailwin, who could never learn wisdom, more or less, now made matters
worse by all she said and did. Stout and strong as she was, she could
do nothing, for Roger had taken the hint she had given by walking
backwards, with her arms crossed behind her: he had pinioned her. She
cried out to Oliver to run up, and set the mill-sails agoing, to bring
neighbour Gool. Stephen took this second hint. He quietly swung Oliver
off the steps, sent down his scarecrow after him, and himself took his
seat on the threshold of the mill. There he sat, laughing to see how
Ailwin wearied herself with struggles, while Roger, by merely hanging on
her arms, prevented her getting free. When, however, Oliver flew at the
boy, and struck him some fierce blows, Stephen came down, drove the
little girl and the baby into the house, and locked them in, and then
went to help Roger with his strong arm.
It was clear to Mildred what she ought to do. Crying as she was, she
put George in a corner, with some playthings, to keep him from the fire
till she came to him again, and then mounted the stairs, as quickly as
her trembling limbs would let her,--first to her mother's room, and then
out upon the roof. She tied a large red handkerchief of her mother's
upon her father's Sunday walking-stick, and then waved it, as high as
she could hold it, above her head, while she considered how she could
fasten it; for it would never do to leave George alone below for many
minutes. Perhaps neighbour Gool had seen it already, and would soon be
here with his men. But, lest he should not, she must fix her flag, and
trust to Stephen and Roger not thinking of looking up to the roof from
the yard below. At last, after many attempts, she thrust the stick into
a crevice of the roof, and fixed it with heavy things round it,--having
run down three or four times, to see that George was safe.
There was, indeed, no time to be lost, for the intruders below were
doing all the mischief they could think of, short of robbing and burning
the premises. The great tall man, Stephen, strolling about the lower
rooms, found Mrs Linacre's knitting, and pulled out the needles, and
unravelled the work. Roger spied a heap of bulbs on the corner of a
high shelf. They were Mr Linacre's rare and valuable tulip-roots,
brought from Holland. Roger cut one of them open, to see what it looked
like, and then threw the whole lot into the boiler, now steaming over
the fire, saying the family should have a dish the more at dinner
to-day. They got hold of Oliver's tools, and the cup he was at work
upon. Stephen raised his arm, about to dash the cup to the ground, when
Oliver sprang forward, and said--
"You shall have it,--you shall have my cup;--you don't know what a
beauty it will be, when it is done. Only let me finish it, and you
shall have it in exchange for the stickleback you caught this morning.
The stickleback will do to manure our garden; and I am sure you will
like the cup, if you will only let me finish it."
"Manure your garden, indeed!" cried Stephen, gruffly. "I'll cut up your
garden to shreds first. What business has your garden in our carr? You
and your great landlord will find what it is to set your outlandish
plants growing where our geese ought to be grazing. We'll show you that
we don't want any foreigners here; and if you don't like our usage, you
may go home again; and nobody will cry for you back."
"We pay for our garden and our mill," said Oliver. "We wrong nobody,
and we work for our living, and you are a very cruel man."
"You pay the king: and the parliament does not choose that the king
should have any more money to spend against them. Mind you that, boy!
And--"
"I am sure I don't know anything about the king and the parliament, or
any such quarrels," said Oliver. "It is very hard to punish us for
them, it is very cruel."
"You shall have reason to call me cruel twenty times over, if you don't
get away out of our carr," said Stephen. "Manure your garden, indeed!
Not I! And you shall not manure another yard in these Levels. Come
here, Roger."
They went out again into the yard, and Oliver, now quite overcome, laid
down his head on his arms, and cried bitterly.
"Here's your cup, however," said Ailwin, now released by Roger's being
employed elsewhere. "This bit of plaster is the only thing they have
laid hands on that they have not ruined." Oliver started up, and hid
his work and tools in a bundle of straw, in the corner of the kitchen.
"What Mildred will say, I don't know," said Ailwin. "That boy has wrung
the neck of her white hen."
Oliver was desperate on hearing this. He ran out to see whether he
could not, by any means, get into the mill, to set the sails agoing: but
there were Stephen and Roger, carrying water, which they threw over all
the gypsum that was ground,--floating away as much as they could of it,
and utterly spoiling the rest, by turning it into a plaster.
"Did you ever see the like?" cried Ailwin. "And there is nothing master
is so particular about as keeping that stuff dry. See the woman, too!
How I'd like to tug the hair off her head! She looks badly, poor
creature, too."
Stephen's wife had, indeed, come up to enjoy the sport, when she found
that no man was on the premises, and that there was no danger. There
she stood, leaning against a post of the mill, her black, untidy hair
hanging about her pale, hollow cheeks, and her lean arms crossed upon
her bosom.
"There were such ague-struck folk to be seen at every turn," said
Ailwin, "before the foreigners came to live in the carr. I suppose they
brought some healing with them; for one does not often see now such a
poor creature as that. She might be ashamed of herself,--that woman;
she laughs all her poor sides can, at every pailful Roger pours out.--
Eh! But she's not laughing now! Eh! What's the matter now?"
The matter was that neighbour Gool was in sight, with three or four men.
A cheer was heard from them while they were still some way off. Oliver
ran out and cheered, waving his hat over his head. Ailwin cheered,
waving a towel out of the window. Mildred cheered from the roof, waving
her red flag; and George stood in the doorway, shouting and clapping his
little hands.
If the object was to catch the trespassers, all this cheering took place
a little too soon. Stephen and Roger were off, like their own
wild-ducks,--over the garden hedge, and out of sight. Neighbour Gool
declared that if they were once fairly among the reeds in the marsh, it
would be sheer waste of time to search for them; for they could dodge
and live in the water, in a way that honest people that lived on proper
hard ground could not follow. Here was the woman; and yonder was the
tent. Revenge might be taken that way, better than by ducking in the
ponds after the man and boy. Suppose they took the woman to prison, and
made a great fire in the carr, of the tent and everything in it!
Oliver did not see that it could make up to them for what they had lost,
to burn the tent; and he was pretty sure his father would not wish such
a thing to be done. His father would soon be home. As for the woman,
he thought she ought to go to prison, if Mr Gool would take her there.
"That I will," said Gool. "I will go through with the thing now I am in
it. I came off the minute I saw your red flag; and I might have been
here sooner, if I had not been so full of watching the mill-sails, that
I never looked off from them till my wife came to help to watch. Come,
you woman," said he to Nan Redfurn, "make no faces about going to
prison, for I am about to give you a ride there."
"She looks very ill," thought Oliver,--"not fit to be jolted on a
horse."
"You'll get no magistrate to send me to prison," said the woman. "The
justices are with the parliament, every one. You will only have to
bring me back, and be sorry you caught me, when you see what comes of
it."
"Cannot we take care of her here till father comes home?" said Oliver,
seeing that neighbour Gool looked perplexed, and as if he believed what
the woman said.
"No, no," said Mildred, whispering to her brother. "Don't let that
woman stay here."
"Neighbour Gool will take care of us till father comes home," said
Oliver: "and the woman looks so ill! We can lock her up here: and, you
see, Ailwin is ever so much stronger than she is, poor thing!"
Neighbour Gool put on an air of being rather offended that nothing great
was to be done, after his trouble in coming to help. In his heart,
however, he was perhaps not very sorry; for he knew that the magistrates
were not willing to countenance the king's settlers in the Levels, while
the Parliament Committee was sitting at Lincoln. Gool patted Oliver's
head when the boy thanked him for coming; and he joked Mildred about her
flag: so he could not be very cross. He left two men to guard the
prisoner and the premises, till Mr Linacre should return.
These two men soon left off marching about the garden and yard, and sat
down on the mill-steps; for the day grew very hot. There they sat
talking in the shade, till their dinners should be ready. Nan Redfurn
was so far from feeling the day to be hot, that when her cold ague-fit
came on, she begged to be allowed to go down to the kitchen fire.
Little George stood staring at her for some time, and then ran away; and
Mildred, not liking to be in the same room with a woman who looked as
she did, and who was a prisoner, stole out too, though she had been
desired to watch the woman till dinner should be ready. Ailwin was so
struck with compassion, that she fetched her warmest woollen stockings
and her winter cloak of linsey-woolsey,--it was such a piteous thing to
hear a woman's teeth chattering in her head, in that way, at noon in the
middle of August. Having wrapped her up, she put her on a stool, close
to the great kitchen fire; and drew out the screen that was used only in
winter, to keep off the draughts from the door. If the poor soul was
not warm in that corner, nothing could make her so. Then Ailwin began
to sing to cheer her heart, and to be amazingly busy in cooking dinner
for three additional persons. She never left off her singing but when
she out went for the vegetables, and other things she wanted for her
cooking; and when she came in again she resumed her song,--still for the
sake of the poor creature behind the screen.
"Do you feel yourself warmer now, neighbour?" said she at the end of an
hour. "If not, you are past my understanding."
There was no answer; and Ailwin did not wonder, as she said to herself,
that it was too great a trouble for one so poorly to be answering
questions: so Ailwin went on slicing her vegetables and singing.
"Do you think a drop of cherry-brandy would warm you, neighbour?" she
asked, after a while. "I wonder I never thought of that before; only,
it is a sort of thing one does not recollect till winter comes. Shall I
get you a sup of cherry-brandy?"
Ailwin thought it so odd that such an offer as this should not be
replied to, that she looked hastily behind the screen, to see what could
be the reason. There was reason enough. Nobody was there. Nan Redfurn
had made her way out as soon as she found herself alone, and was gone,
with Ailwin's best winter stockings and linsey-woolsey cloak.
In a minute the whole party were looking over the hedge into the marsh.
Nothing was to be seen but the low brown tent, and the heap of little
fish. Neither man, woman, nor boy appeared when their names were
shouted forth.
"Oh! My best stockings!" said Ailwin, half crying.
"You have saved your cherry-brandy, my woman, that is certain," observed
one of Gool's men.
"I shall never have any pleasure in it," sighed the maid. "I shall
never enjoy it on account of its reminding me how yon woman has fooled
me."
"Then we will save you that pain," said the man. "If you will oblige us
with it to-day we won't leave any to pain you in the winter."
"For shame," cried Oliver, "when you know she has lost her stockings and
her cloak already! And all out of kindness! I would not drink a drop
of her cherry-brandy, I am sure."
"Then you shall, Oliver, for saying so, and taking my part," said
Ailwin. "I am not going to give it to anyone else that has not the
ague; some people may be assured of that."
"If I thought there was any cherry-brandy for me when I came back," said
the man, throwing a stone down to try the nature of the bog-ground
beneath, "I would get below there, and try what I could find. I might
lay hold of a linsey-woolsey cloak somewhere in the bog."
"You can never catch the Redfurns, I doubt," said Ailwin. "What was it
they said to you, Oliver, as they were going off?"
"They laughed at me for not being able to catch eels, and asked how I
thought I should catch _them_. They said when I could decoy wild-fowl,
I might set a trap for the Redfurns. But it does not follow that that
is all true because they said it. I don't see but they might be caught
if there was anyone to do us justice afterwards. That's the worst part
of it, father says."
"There's father!" cried Mildred, as the crack of a whip was heard. All
started off, as if to see who could carry bad news fastest. All arrived
in the yard together, except Ailwin, who turned back to take up George,
as he roared at being left behind.
"We must want a wise head or two among us," said the vexed miller. "If
we were as sharp as these times require, we surely could not be at the
mercy of folk we should scorn to be like. We must give more heed and
see what is to be done."
"Rather late for that, neighbour, when here is the stock you were
grinding and grinding for a week, all gone to plaster," said one of
Gool's men.
"That is what I say," replied the miller, contemplating the waste; "but
it may be better late than not at all."
Mrs Linacre was more affected than her husband by what had happened.
When she came home, poor Mildred's fortitude had just given way, and she
was crying over the body of her dear white hen. This caused Ailwin's
eyes to fill at the thought of her stockings and cloak, so that the
family faces looked cheerless enough.
"We deserve it all," said Mrs Linacre, "for leaving our place and our
children to the care of Gool's men, or of anybody but ourselves. I will
go no more to the spring. I have been out of my duty; and we may be
thankful that we have been no further punished."
As she spoke a few tears started. Her tears were so rare, that the
children looked in dismay at their father.
He gently declared that the more injury they suffered from the
country-people the more they needed all the earnings they could make.
They must cling to the means of an honest maintenance, and not throw
away such an employment as hers. He would not leave the children again
while the Redfurns were in the neighbourhood. He would not have left
them to-day, to serve anyone but the pastor; nor to serve even him, if
he had not thought he had bespoken sufficient protection. Nothing
should take him from home, or his eye off the children, to-morrow, she
might depend upon it.
Mrs Linacre said that if she must go she should take a heavy heart with
her. This was, she feared, but the first of a fresh series of attacks.
If so, what might not they look for next? However, she only asked to be
found in her duty. If her husband desired her to go, she would go; but
she should count over the hours of the day sadly enough.
Oliver ventured to bring up an old subject. He said what he most wanted
was to have earned money enough to get a watch. He was sure he could
hide it so that Roger should never guess he had one; and it would be
such a comfort to know exactly how the time was going, and when to look
for his mother home, instead of having to guess, in cloudy weather, the
hour of the day, and to argue the matter with Ailwin, who was always
wrong about that particular thing.
His father smiled mournfully, as he observed, that he hoped Oliver would
never so want bread as to leave off longing for anything made of gold or
silver.