It was not many days since the resurrection of those ill-omened stocks,
and it was evident already, to an ordinary observer, that something
wrong had got into the village. The peasants wore a sullen expression
of countenance; when the Squire passed, they took off their hats with
more than ordinary formality, but they did not return the same broad
smile to his quick, hearty "Good day, my man." The women peered at him
from the threshold or the casement, but did not, as was their wont, (at
least the wont of the prettiest,) take occasion to come out to catch
his passing compliment on their own good looks, or their tidy cottages.
And the children, who used to play after work on the site of the old
stocks, now shunned the place, and, indeed, seemed to cease play
altogether.
On the other hand, no man likes to build, or rebuild, a great public
work for nothing. Now that the Squire had resuscitated the stocks,
and made them so exceedingly handsome, it was natural that he should
wish to put somebody into them. Moreover, his pride and self-esteem
had been wounded by the Parson's opposition; and it would be a
justification to his own forethought, and a triumph over the Parson's
understanding, if he could satisfactorily and practically establish a
proof that the stocks had not been repaired before they were wanted.
Therefore, unconsciously to himself, there was something about the
Squire more burly, and authoritative, and menacing than heretofore. Old
Gaffer Solomons observed, "that they had better mind well what they
were about, for that the Squire had a wicked look in the tail of his
eye--just as the dun bull had afore it tossed neighbour Barnes's little
boy."
For two or three days these mute signs of something brewing in the
atmosphere had been rather noticeable than noticed, without any
positive overt act of tyranny on the one hand, or rebellion on the
other. But on the very Saturday night in which Dr Riccabocca was
installed in the four-posted bed in the chintz chamber, the threatened
revolution commenced. In the dead of that night, personal outrage was
committed on the stocks. And on the Sunday morning, Mr Stirn, who was
the earliest riser in the parish, perceived, in going to the farmyard,
that the nob of the column that flanked the board had been feloniously
broken off; that the four holes were bunged up with mud; and that some
Jacobinical villain had carved, on the very centre of the flourish
or scroll work, "Dam the stoks!" Mr Stirn was much too vigilant a
right-hand man, much too zealous a friend of law and order, not to
regard such proceedings with horror and alarm. And when the Squire came
into his dressing-room at half-past seven, his butler (who fulfilled
also the duties of valet) informed him, with a mysterious air, that
Mr Stirn had something "very partikler to communicate, about a most
howdacious midnight 'spiracy and 'sault."
The Squire stared, and bade Mr Stirn be admitted.
"Well?" cried the Squire, suspending the operation of stropping his
razor.
Mr Stirn groaned.
"Well, man, what now?"
"I never knowed such a thing in this here parish afore," began Mr
Stirn, "and I can only 'count for it by s'posing that them foreign
Papishers have been semminating"--
"Been what?"
"Semminating"--
"Disseminating, you blockhead--disseminating what?"
"Damn the stocks," began Mr Stirn, plunging right _in medias res_, and
by a fine use of one of the noblest figures in rhetoric.
"Mr Stirn!" cried the Squire, reddening, "did you say 'Damn the
stocks?'--damn my new handsome pair of stocks!"
"Lord forbid, sir; that's what _they_ say: that's what they have digged
on it with knives and daggers, and they have stuffed mud in its four
holes, and broken the capital of the elewation."
The Squire took the napkin off his shoulder, laid down strop and razor;
he seated himself in his arm-chair majestically, crossed his legs, and
in a voice that affected tranquillity, said--
"Compose yourself, Stirn; you have a deposition to make, touching an
assault upon--can I trust my senses?--upon my new stocks. Compose
yourself--be calm. NOW! What the devil is come to the parish?"
"Ah, sir, what indeed?" replied Mr Stirn; and then, laying the
forefinger of the right hand on the palm of the left, he narrated the
case.
"And whom do you suspect? Be calm now, don't speak in a passion. You
are a witness, sir--a dispassionate, unprejudiced witness. Zounds and
fury! this is the most insolent, unprovoked, diabolical--but whom do
you suspect, I say?"
Stirn twirled his hat, elevated his eyebrows, jerked his thumb over his
shoulder, and whispered--"I hear as how the two Papishers slept at your
honour's last night."
"What, dolt! do you suppose Dr Rickeybockey got out of his warm bed to
bung up the holes in my new stocks?"
"Noa; he's too cunning to do it himself, but he may have been
semminating. He's mighty thick with Parson Dale, and your honour knows
as how the Parson set his face again the stocks. Wait a bit, sir--don't
fly at me yet. There be a boy in this here parish"--
"A boy!--ah, fool, now you are nearer the mark. The Parson write 'Damn
the stocks,' indeed! What boy do you mean?"
"And that boy be cockered up much by Mister Dale; and the Papisher went
and sat with him and his mother a whole hour t'other day; and that
boy is as deep as a well; and I seed him lurking about the place, and
hiding hisself under the tree the day the stocks was put up--and that
ere boy is Lenny Fairfield."
"Whew," said the Squire, whistling, "you have not your usual senses
about you to-day, man. Lenny Fairfield--pattern boy of the village.
Hold your tongue. I dare say it is not done by any one in the parish,
after all; some good-for-nothing vagrant--that cursed tinker, who goes
about with a very vicious donkey--whom, by the way, I caught picking
thistles out of the very eyes of the old stocks! Shows how the tinker
brings up his donkeys! Well, keep a sharp look-out. To-day is Sunday;
worst day of the week, I'm sorry and ashamed to say, for rows and
depredations. Between the services, and after evening church, there are
always idle fellows from all the neighbouring country about, as you
know too well. Depend on it, the real culprits will be found gathering
round the stocks, and will betray themselves: have your eyes, ears, and
wits about you, and I've no doubt we shall come to the rights of the
matter before the day's out. And if we do," added the Squire, "we'll
make an example of the ruffian!"
"In course," said Stirn; "and if we don't find him, we must make an
example all the same. That's where it is, sir. That's why the stocks
ben't respected; they has not had an example yet--we wants an example."
"On my word, I believe that's very true; and the first idle fellow you
catch in anything wrong we'll clap in, and keep him there for two hours
at least."
"With the biggest pleasure, your honour--that's what it is."
And Mr Stirn, having now got what he considered a complete and
unconditional authority over all the legs and wrists of Hazeldean
parish, _quoad_ the stocks, took his departure.