THE RED GRAVEL PIT.
At the entrance of the lane leading down to the works at Botfield there
stood a small square building, which was used as the weighing-house for
the coal and lime fetched from the pits, and as the pay-office on the
reckoning Saturday, which came once a fortnight. Upon the Saturday
evening after his interview with the master, Stephen loitered in the lane
with a very heavy heart, afraid of facing Mr. Wyley, lest he should
receive the sentence of dismission from the pit. He did not know what he
could turn his hand to if he should be discharged from what had been his
work since he was eight years old; for even if he could get a place in
one of the farmhouses about as waggoner's boy, he would not earn more
than three shillings a week; and how very little that would do towards
providing food for the three mouths at home! Fearful of knowing the
worst, he lingered about the office until all the other workmen had been
in and come out again jingling their wages.
But the master and his brother Thomas had been taking counsel together
about the matter. Mr. Wyley was for turning the boy off at once, and
reducing him to the utmost straits of poverty; but his more prudent
brother was opposed to this plan.
'Look here, brother James,' he said; 'if we drive the young scamp to
desperation, there's no telling what he will do. Ten to one if he does
not go and tell a string of lies to some of the farmers about here, or
perhaps to the parson at Longville, and they may make an unpleasant
disturbance. Nobody knows and nobody cares about him as it is; but he is
a determined young fellow, or I'm mistaken. Better keep him at work under
your own eye, and make the place too hot for him by degrees. Before long
you will catch him poaching with his dog, and if he is let off for a time
or two because of his youth, and goes at it again, we can make out a
pretty case of juvenile depravity, without any character from his
employer, you know; and so he will be sent out of the way, and boarded at
the expense of the country for a few years or so.'
'Well,' said the master, 'I'll try him once again. If he'd go out
quietly, nobody else has any claim upon the cottage; and I want to set to
work there quickly.'
So when Stephen entered the office with trembling limbs and a very pale
face under its dusky covering, it happened that he met with a very
different reception to what he expected. The master sat behind a small
counter, upon which lay Stephen's twelve shillings, the only little heap
of money left; and as he gathered them nervously into his hand, he
wondered if this would be the last time. But his master's face was not
more threatening than usual; and he muttered his 'Thank you, sir,' and
was turning away with a feeling of great relief, when Mr. Wyley's harsh
voice brought him back again, trembling more than ever.
'Have you thought any more of my offer, Fern?' he asked. 'I shouldn't
mind, as you are an orphan, and have two sisters depending upon you, if I
made the ten pounds into fifteen; and you may leave the money at interest
with me till you are older.'
'And I've been thinking, Stephen,' added Thomas Wyley, who sat at a high
desk checking the accounts, 'that, as you seem set against being
separated, instead of taking your grandfather into the House, I'd get him
two shillings a week allowed him out of it; and that would pay the rent
of a nice two-roomed cottage down in Botfield, close to your work. Come,
that would make all of you comfortable.'
'You should bear in mind, Stephen,' said the master, 'that the place does
not of right belong to you at all; and the lord of the manor is coming to
shoot over the estate in September; and then I shall have orders to
remove you by force. So you had better take our offer.'
'Please, sir,' said Stephen, bowing respectfully, 'don't be angered with
me, but I can't go from what I said afore. Father told me never to give
up Fern's Hollow; and maybe he'd hear tell of it in heaven if I broke my
word to him. I can't do it, sir.'
'Well, wilful will have his way,' said Mr. Thomas, nodding at the master;
and as neither of them addressed Stephen again, he left the office,
amazed to find that he was not forbidden to return to work on the
following Monday.
The Red Gravel Pit, where Miss Anne had promised to meet her scholars on
Sunday morning, was a quarry cut out of the side of one of the hills,
from which the stones were taken for making and mending the roads in the
neighbourhood. The quarry had been hollowed out into a kind of enclosed
circle, only entered by the road through which the waggons passed. All
along the edge of the red rocks high overhead there was a coppice of
green hazel-bushes and young oaks, where the boys had spent many a Sunday
searching for wild nuts, and hunting the squirrels from tree to tree.
Stephen and Tim met half an hour earlier than the time appointed by Miss
Anne, and by dint of great perseverance and strength rolled together five
large stones, under the shadow of an oak tree; and placed four of them in
a row before the largest one, as Tim had once seen the children sitting
in the village school at Longville, when he had taken a donkey-load of
coals for the schoolmaster. Martha came in good time with little Nan,
both in their new black bonnets and clean cotton shawls; and all were
seated orderly in a row when Miss Anne entered the Red Gravel Pit by the
waggon road.
I need not describe to you how Miss Anne heard Stephen read his chapter,
and taught Tim and Martha, and even little Nan herself, the first few
letters of the alphabet; after which she made them all repeat a verse of
a hymn, and, when they could say it correctly, sang it with them over and
over again, in her sweet and clear voice, until Stephen felt almost
choked with a sob of pure gladness, that would every now and then rise to
his lips. Tim sang loudly and lustily, getting out of tune very often.
But little Nan was a marvel to hear, so soft and sweet were her childish
tones, so that Miss Anne bade her sing the verse alone, which she did
perfectly. Martha, too, was full of admiration of the lady's lilac silk
dress and the white ribbon on her bonnet.
That was the first of many pleasant Sunday mornings in the Red Gravel
Pit. When the novelty was worn away, Martha discovered that she had too
much to do at home to be able to leave it so early in the day; and Tim
sometimes overslept himself on a Sunday, when most of his comrades spent
the whole morning in bed. But Stephen and little Nan were always there,
and their teacher never failed to meet them. Nor did Miss Anne confine
her care of the orphan children to a Sunday morning only. Sometimes she
would mount the hill during the long summer evenings, and pay their
little household a visit, giving Martha many quiet hints about her
management and her outlay of Stephen's wages; hints which Martha did not
always receive as graciously as they were given. Miss Anne would read
also to the blind old grandfather, choosing very simple and easy portions
of the Bible, especially about the lost sheep being found, as that
pleased the old shepherd, and he could fully understand its meaning. In
general, Miss Anne was very cheerful, and she would laugh merrily at
times; but now and then her face looked pale and sad, and her voice was
very mournful while she talked and sang with them. Once, even, when she
bade Stephen 'good evening,' an exceedingly sorrowful expression passed
across her face, and she said to him, 'I find it quite as hard work to
serve God really and truly as you do, Stephen. There is only one Helper
for both of us; and we can only do all things through Christ which
strengtheneth us.'
But Stephen could not believe that good, gentle Miss Anne found it as
hard to be a Christian as he did. Everything seemed against him at the
works. The short indulgence from hard words and hard blows granted him
after his father's death was followed by what appeared to be a very
tempest of oppression. It was very soon understood that the master had
a private grudge against the boy; and though the workpeople were ground
down and wronged in a hundred ways by him, so as to fill them with hatred
and revenge, they were not the less willing to take advantage of his
spite against Stephen. His work underground, which had always been
distasteful to him compared with a shepherd's life on the hills, was now
made more toilsome and dangerous than ever, while Black Thompson followed
him everywhere and all day long with oaths and blows. Stephen's evident
superiority over the other boys was of course very much against him; for
he had never been much associated with them, as his distant home had
separated him from them excepting during the busy hours of labour. Now,
when, through his own self-satisfaction and Tim's loud praises, his
accomplishments became known, it is no wonder that a storm of envy and
jealousy raged round him; for not only the boys themselves, but their
fathers also, felt affronted at his wonderful scholarship. To be sure,
Tim never deserted him, and his partisanship was especially useful on the
bank, before he went down and after he came up from the pit. But below,
in the dark, dismal passages of the pit, many a stripe, unmerited, fell
upon his bruised shoulders, which he learned to bear the more patiently
after Miss Anne had taught and explained to him the verse, 'But He was
wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the
chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are
healed.' Still Stephen, feeling how hard it was to continue in the right
way, and knowing how often he failed, to his own sore mortification and
the rude triumph of his comrades, wondered exceedingly how it was
possible for Miss Anne to find it as hard to be a follower of Christ as
he did.