wessex tales-第43章

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curates；　or　the　pa'son's　friends；　or　such　like；'　said　the　lad
dubiously。

'Ah；　that　may　be　a　promising　sign：　　I'll　call。　　Or　no；　just　you　go
up　and　ask　first　if　she　can　find　room　for　me。　　I　have　to　see　one　or
two　persons　on　another　matter。　　You　will　find　me　down　at　the
carrier's。'

In　a　quarter　of　an　hour　the　lad　came　back；　and　said　that　Mrs。
Newberry　would　have　no　objection　to　accommodate　him；　whereupon
Stockdale　called　at　the　house。

It　stood　within　a　garden…hedge；　and　seemed　to　be　roomy　and
comfortable。　　He　saw　an　elderly　woman；　with　whom　he　made
arrangements　to　come　the　same　night；　since　there　was　no　inn　in　the
place；　and　he　wished　to　house　himself　as　soon　as　possible；　the
village　being　a　local　centre　from　which　he　was　to　radiate　at　once　to
the　different　small　chapels　in　the　neighbourhood。　　He　forthwith　sent
his　luggage　to　Mrs。　Newberry's　from　the　carrier's；　where　he　had
taken　shelter；　and　in　the　evening　walked　up　to　his　temporary　home。

As　he　now　lived　there；　Stockdale　felt　it　unnecessary　to　knock　at　the
door；　and　entering　quietly　he　had　the　pleasure　of　hearing　footsteps
scudding　away　like　mice　into　the　back　quarters。　　He　advanced　to　the
parlour；　as　the　front　room　was　called；　though　its　stone　floor　was
scarcely　disguised　by　the　carpet；　which　only　over…laid　the　trodden
areas；　leaving　sandy　deserts　under　the　bulging　mouldings　of　the
table…legs；　playing　with　brass　furniture。　　But　the　room　looked　snug
and　cheerful。　　The　firelight　shone　out　brightly；　trembling　on　the
knobs　and　handles；　and　lurking　in　great　strength　on　the　under
surface　of　the　chimney…piece。　　A　deep　arm…chair；　covered　with
horsehair；　and　studded　with　a　countless　throng　of　brass　nails；　was
pulled　up　on　one　side　of　the　fireplace。　　The　tea…things　were　on　the
table；　the　teapot　cover　was　open；　and　a　little　hand…bell　had　been
laid　at　that　precise　point　towards　which　a　person　seated　in　the
great　chair　might　be　expected　instinctively　to　stretch　his　hand。

Stockdale　sat　down；　not　objecting　to　his　experience　of　the　room　thus
far；　and　began　his　residence　by　tinkling　the　bell。　　A　little　girl
crept　in　at　the　summons；　and　made　tea　for　him。　　Her　name；　she　said；
was　Marther　Sarer；　and　she　lived　out　there；　nodding　towards　the　road
and　village　generally。　　Before　Stockdale　had　got　far　with　his　meal；
a　tap　sounded　on　the　door　behind　him；　and　on　his　telling　the
inquirer　to　come　in；　a　rustle　of　garments　caused　him　to　turn　his
head。　　He　saw　before　him　a　fine　and　extremely　well…made　young　woman；
with　dark　hair；　a　wide；　sensible；　beautiful　forehead；　eyes　that
warmed　him　before　he　knew　it；　and　a　mouth　that　was　in　itself　a
picture　to　all　appreciative　souls。

'Can　I　get　you　anything　else　for　tea？'　she　said；　coming　forward　a
step　or　two；　an　expression　of　liveliness　on　her　features；　and　her
hand　waving　the　door　by　its　edge。

'Nothing；　thank　you；'　said　Stockdale；　thinking　less　of　what　he
replied　than　of　what　might　be　her　relation　to　the　household。

'You　are　quite　sure？'　said　the　young　woman；　apparently　aware　that　he
had　not　considered　his　answer。

He　conscientiously　examined　the　tea…things；　and　found　them　all
there。　　'Quite　sure；　Miss　Newberry；'　he　said。

'It　is　Mrs。　Newberry；'　she　said。　　'Lizzy　Newberry；　I　used　to　be
Lizzy　Simpkins。'

'O；　I　beg　your　pardon；　Mrs。　Newberry。'　　And　before　he　had　occasion
to　say　more　she　left　the　room。

Stockdale　remained　in　some　doubt　till　Martha　Sarah　came　to　clear　the
table。　　'Whose　house　is　this；　my　little　woman；'　said　he。

'Mrs。　Lizzy　Newberry's；　sir。'

'Then　Mrs。　Newberry　is　not　the　old　lady　I　saw　this　afternoon？'

'No。　　That's　Mrs。　Newberry's　mother。　　It　was　Mrs。　Newberry　who　comed
in　to　you　just　by　now；　because　she　wanted　to　see　if　you　was　good…
looking。'

Later　in　the　evening；　when　Stockdale　was　about　to　begin　supper；　she
came　again。　　'I　have　come　myself；　Mr。　Stockdale；'　she　said。　　The
minister　stood　up　in　acknowledgment　of　the　honour。　　'I　am　afraid
little　Marther　might　not　make　you　understand。　　What　will　you　have
for　supper？there's　cold　rabbit；　and　there's　a　ham　uncut。'

Stockdale　said　he　could　get　on　nicely　with　those　viands；　and　supper
was　laid。　　He　had　no　more　than　cut　a　slice　when　tap…tap　came　to　the
door　again。　　The　minister　had　already　learnt　that　this　particular
rhythm　in　taps　denoted　the　fingers　of　his　enkindling　landlady；　and
the　doomed　young　fellow　buried　his　first　mouthful　under　a　look　of
receptive　blandness。

'We　have　a　chicken　in　the　house；　Mr。　StockdaleI　quite　forgot　to
mention　it　just　now。　　Perhaps　you　would　like　Marther　Sarer　to　bring
it　up？'

Stockdale　had　advanced　far　enough　in　the　art　of　being　a　young　man　to
say　that　he　did　not　want　the　chicken；　unless　she　brought　it　up
herself；　but　when　it　was　uttered　he　blushed　at　the　daring　gallantry
of　the　speech；　perhaps　a　shade　too　strong　for　a　serious　man　and　a
minister。　　In　three　minutes　the　chicken　appeared；　but；　to　his　great
surprise；　only　in　the　hands　of　Martha　Sarah。　　Stockdale　was
disappointed；　which　perhaps　it　was　intended　that　he　should　be。

He　had　finished　supper；　and　was　not　in　the　least　anticipating　Mrs。
Newberry　again　that　night；　when　she　tapped　and　entered　as　before。
Stockdale's　gratified　look　told　that　she　had　lost　nothing　by　not
appearing　when　expected。　　It　happened　that　the　cold　in　the　head　from
which　the　young　man　suffered　had　increased　with　the　approach　of
night；　and　before　she　had　spoken　he　was　seized　with　a　violent　fit　of
sneezing　which　he　could　not　anyhow　repress。

Mrs。　Newberry　looked　full　of　pity。　　'Your　cold　is　very　bad　to…night；
Mr。　Stockdale。'

Stockdale　replied　that　it　was　rather　troublesome。

'And　I've　a　good　mind'she　added　archly；　looking　at　the　cheerless
glass　of　water　on　the　table；　which　the　abstemious　minister　was　going
to　drink。

'Yes；　Mrs。　Newberry？'

'I've　a　good　mind　that　you　should　have　something　more　likely　to　cure
it　than　that　cold　stuff。'

'Well；'　said　Stockdale；　looking　down　at　the　glass；　'as　there　is　no
inn　here；　and　nothing　better　to　be　got　in　the　village；　of　course　it
will　do。'

To　this　she　replied；　'There　is　something　better；　not　far　off；　though
not　in　the　house。　　I　really　think　you　must　try　it；　or　you　may　be
ill。　　Yes；　Mr。　Stockdale；　you　shall。'　　She　held　up　her　finger；
seeing　that　he　was　about　to　speak。　　'Don't　ask　what　it　is；　wait；　and
you　shall　see。'

Lizzy　went　away；　and　Stockdale　waited　in　a　pleasant　mood。　　Presently
she　returned　with　her　bonnet　and　cloak　on；　saying；　'I　am　so　sorry；
but　you　must　help　me　to　get　it。　　Mother　has　gone　to　bed。　　Will　you
wrap　yourself　up；　and　come　this　way；　and　please　bring　that　cup　with
you？'

Stockdale；　a　lonely　young　fellow；　who　had　for　weeks　felt　a　great
craving　for　somebody　on　whom　to　throw　away　superfluous　interest；　and
even　tenderness；　was　not　sorry　to　join　her；　and　followed　his　guide
through　the　back　door；　across　the　garden；　to　the　bottom；　where　the
boundary　was　a　wall。　　This　wall　was　low；　and　beyond　it　Stockdale
discerned　in　the　night　shades　several　grey　headstones；　and　the
outlines　of　the　church　roof　and　tower。

'It　is　easy　to　get　up　this　way；'　she　said；　stepping　upon　a　bank
which　abutted　on　the　wall；　then　putting　her　foot　on　the　top　of　the
stonework；　and　descending　a　spring　inside；　where　the　ground　was　much
higher；　as　is　the　manner　of　graveyards　to　be。　　Stockdale　did　the
same；　and　followed　her　in　the　dusk　across　the　irregular　ground　till
they　came　to　the　tower　door；　which；　when　they　had　entered；　she
softly　closed　behind　them。

'You　can　keep　a　secret？'　she　said；　in　a　musical　voice。

'Like　an　iron　chest！'　said　he　fervently。

Then　from　under　her　cloak　she　produced　a　small　lighted　lantern；
which　the　minister　had　not　noticed　that　she　carried　at　all。　　The
light　showed　them　to　be　close　to　the　singing…gallery　stairs；　under
which　lay　a　heap　of　lumber　of　all　sorts；　but　consisting　mostly　of
decayed　framework；　pews；　panels；　and　pieces　of　flooring；　that　from
time　to　time　had　been　removed　from　their　original　fixings　in　the
body　of　the　edifice　and　replaced　by　new。

'Perhaps　you　will　drag　some　of　those　boards　aside？'　she　said；
holding　the　lantern　over　her　head　to　light　him　better。　　'Or　will　you
take　the　lantern　while　I　move　them？'

'I　can　manage　it；'　said　th