AT TEA--VAPOURS--ISOPEL BERNERS--SOFTLY AND KINDLY--SWEET PRETTY
CREATURE--BREAD AND WATER--TRUTH AND CONSTANCY--VERY STRANGELY
In the evening of that same day the tall girl and I sat at tea by the
fire, at the bottom of the dingle; the girl on a small stool, and myself,
as usual, upon my stone.
The water which served for the tea had been taken from a spring of
pellucid water in the neighbourhood, which I had not had the good fortune
to discover, though it was well known to my companion, and to the
wandering people who frequented the dingle.
'This tea is very good,' said I, 'but I cannot enjoy it as much as if I
were well: I feel very sadly.'
'How else should you feel,' said the girl, 'after fighting with the
flaming Tinman? All I wonder at is that you can feel at all! As for the
tea, it ought to be good, seeing that it cost me ten shillings a pound.'
'That's a great deal for a person in your station to pay.'
'In my station! I'd have you to know, young man--however, I haven't the
heart to quarrel with you, you look so ill; and after all, it is a good
sum for one to pay who travels the roads; but if I must have tea, I like
to have the best; and tea I must have, for I am used to it, though I
can't help thinking that it sometimes fills my head with strange
fancies--what some folks call vapours, making me weep and cry.'
'Dear me,' said I, 'I should never have thought that one of your size and
fierceness would weep and cry!'
'My size and fierceness! I tell you what, young man, you are not over
civil this evening; but you are ill, as I said before, and I shan't take
much notice of your language, at least for the present; as for my size, I
am not so much bigger than yourself; and as for being fierce, you should
be the last one to fling that at me. It is well for you that I can be
fierce sometimes. If I hadn't taken your part against Blazing Bosville,
you wouldn't be now taking tea with me.'
'It is true that you struck me in the face first; but we'll let that
pass. So that man's name is Bosville; what's your own?'
'Isopel Berners.'
'How did you get that name?'
'I say, young man, you seem fond of asking questions: will you have
another cup of tea?'
'I was just going to ask for another.'
'Well, then, here it is, and much good may it do you; as for my name, I
got it from my mother.'
'Your mother's name, then, was Isopel!'
'Isopel Berners.'
'But had you never a father?'
'Yes, I had a father,' said the girl, sighing, 'but I don't bear his
name.'
'Is it the fashion, then, in your country for children to bear their
mother's name?'
'If you ask such questions, young man, I shall be angry with you. I have
told you my name, and, whether my father's or mother's, I am not ashamed
of it.'
'It is a noble name.'
'There you are right, young man. The chaplain in the great house where I
was born told me it was a noble name; it was odd enough, he said, that
the only three noble names in the county were to be found in the great
house; mine was one; the other two were Devereux and Bohun.'
'What do you mean by the great house?'
'The workhouse.'
'Is it possible that you were born there?'
'Yes, young man; and as you now speak softly and kindly, I will tell you
my whole tale. My father was an officer of the sea, and was killed at
sea as he was coming home to marry my mother, Isopel Berners. He had
been acquainted with her, and had left her; but after a few months he
wrote her a letter, to say that he had no rest, and that he repented, and
that as soon as his ship came to port he would do her all the reparation
in his power. Well, young man, the very day before they reached port
they met the enemy, and there was a fight, and my father was killed,
after he had struck down six of the enemy's crew on their own deck; for
my father was a big man, as I have heard, and knew tolerably well how to
use his hands. And when my mother heard the news, she became half
distracted, and ran away into the fields and forests, totally neglecting
her business, for she was a small milliner; and so she ran demented about
the meads and forests for a long time, now sitting under a tree, and now
by the side of a river--at last she flung herself into some water, and
would have been drowned, had not some one been at hand and rescued her,
whereupon she was conveyed to the great house, lest she should attempt to
do herself further mischief, for she had neither friends nor parents--and
there she died three months after, having first brought me into the
world. She was a sweet pretty creature, I'm told, but hardly fit for
this world, being neither large, nor fierce, nor able to take her own
part. So I was born and bred in the great house, where I learnt to read
and sew, to fear God, and to take my own part. When I was fourteen I was
put out to service to a small farmer and his wife, with whom, however, I
did not stay long, for I was half-starved, and otherwise ill treated,
especially by my mistress, who one day attempting to knock me down with a
besom, I knocked her down with my fist, and went back to the great
house.'
'And how did they receive you in the great house?'
'Not very kindly, young man--on the contrary, I was put into a dark room,
where I was kept a fortnight on bread and water; I did not much care,
however, being glad to have got back to the great house at any rate--the
place where I was born, and where my poor mother died; and in the great
house I continued two years longer, reading and sewing, fearing God, and
taking my own part when necessary. At the end of the two years I was
again put out to service, but this time to a rich farmer and his wife,
with whom, however, I did not live long, less time, I believe, than with
the poor ones, being obliged to leave for--'
'Knocking your mistress down?'
'No, young man, knocking my master down, who conducted himself improperly
towards me. This time I did not go back to the great house, having a
misgiving that they would not receive me; so I turned my back to the
great house where I was born, and where my poor mother died, and wandered
for several days I know not whither, supporting myself on a few halfpence
which I chanced to have in my pocket. It happened one day, as I sat
under a hedge crying, having spent my last farthing, that a
comfortable-looking elderly woman came up in a cart, and seeing the state
in which I was, she stopped and asked what was the matter with me; I told
her some part of my story, whereupon she said, 'Cheer up, my dear; if you
like, you shall go with me, and wait upon me.' Of course I wanted little
persuasion, so I got into the cart and went with her. She took me to
London and various other places, and I soon found that she was a
travelling woman, who went about the country with silks and linen. I was
of great use to her, more especially in those places where we met evil
company. Once, as we were coming from Dover, we were met by two sailors,
who stopped our cart, and would have robbed and stripped us. 'Let me get
down,' said I; so I got down, and fought with them both, till they turned
round and ran away. Two years I lived with the old gentlewoman, who was
very kind to me, almost as kind as a mother; at last she fell sick at a
place in Lincolnshire, and after a few days died, leaving me her cart and
stock in trade, praying me only to see her decently buried--which I did,
giving her a funeral fit for a gentlewoman. After which I travelled the
country--melancholy enough for want of company, but so far fortunate that
I could take my own part when anybody was uncivil to me. At last,
passing through the valley of Todmorden, I formed the acquaintance of
Blazing Bosville and his wife, with whom I occasionally took journeys for
company's sake, for it is melancholy to travel about alone, even when one
can take one's own part. I soon found they were evil people; but, upon
the whole, they treated me civilly, and I sometimes lent them a little
money, so that we got on tolerably well together. He and I, it is true,
had once a dispute, and nearly came to blows; for once, when we were
alone, he wanted me to marry him, promising, if I would, to turn off Grey
Moll, or, if I liked it better, to make her wait upon me as a
maid-servant; I never liked him much, but from that hour less than ever.
Of the two, I believe Grey Moll to be the best, for she is at any rate
true and faithful to him, and I like truth and constancy--don't you,
young man?'
'Yes,' said I, 'they are very nice things. I feel very strangely.'
'How do you feel, young man?'
'Very much afraid.'
'Afraid, at what? At the Flaming Tinman? Don't be afraid of him. He
won't come back, and if he did, he shouldn't touch you in this state, I'd
fight him for you; but he won't come back, so you needn't be afraid of
him.'
'I'm not afraid of the Flaming Tinman.'
'What, then, are you afraid of?'
'The evil one.'
'The evil one!' said the girl, 'where is he?'
'Coming upon me.'
'Never heed,' said the girl, 'I'll stand by you.'