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The servant hesitated, and then said in a low voice: "As a gentleman, you must have seen I'm no groom--and think how it must gall me to serve as one."
"Thou shouldst have thought of that before thou indentured, rather--"
"I know," burst out the man, "but I was crazed--was wild with--with a grief that had come to me, and knew not what I was doing."
"Fudge! No romantics. Every redemptioner would have it he is a gentleman, when he's only caught the trick by waiting on them."
"But if I buy my time you--"
"How 'd come ye by the money?"
"I--I think I could get the amount."
"Ay. I doubt not ye know how money 's to be got by hook or by crook! And no doubt ye want your freedom to drill more rebels to the king. Ye'll not get it from me, so there 's an end on 't." With which the squire rose, and stamped into the hall and then to his office.
Charles stood for a moment looking at the ground, and then raised his head so quickly that Janice, who had joined the two during the foregoing dialogue and whose eyes were upon him, had not time to look away. "Can't you persuade him to let me go, Miss Janice?" he asked appealingly.
"Why do you want your freedom?" questioned Janice, letting dignity surrender to curiosity.
"I want to get away from here--to get to a place where there 's a chance for a quicker death than eating one 's heart by inches."
"How beautifully he talks!" thought Janice.
"Nor will I bide here to see--to see--" went on the bondsman, excitedly, "I must run, or I shall end by--'T will be better to let me go before I turn mad."
"'T is as good as a romance," was Janice's mental opinion.
"How I wish Tibbie was here!"
"'T is no doubt a joke to you--oh! you need not have avoided me as you've done lately to show me that I was beneath you. I knew it without that. But who is this put you are going to marry?"
"Mr. Hennion is of good family," answered Janice, with Spirit.
"Good family!" laughed the man, bitterly. "No doubt he is. Think you Phil Hennion is less the clout because he has a pedigree? There are hogs in Yorks.h.i.+re can show better genealogies than royalty."
"'T is quite in keeping that a bond-servant should think little of blood," retorted Janice, made angry by his open contempt.
"Blood! Yes, I despise it, and so would you if you knew it as I do," exclaimed Charles, hotly, cutting the air with his whip. "That for all the blood in the world, unless there be honour with it," he said.
"The fox did n't want the grapes."
"'T is no case of sour grapes, as you 'd know if I told you my story."
"Oh! I should monstrous like to hear it," eagerly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Janice.
The man dropped the bridle and came to the porch. "I swore it should die with me, but there 's one woman in the world to whom--" he began, and then checked himself as a figure came into view on the lawn out of the growing darkness.
"Who's there?" Charles demanded.
"It's me--Joe Bagby," was the answer, as that individual came forward. "Is the squire home, miss?" he asked; and, receiving the reply that he was in his office, Joe volunteered the information that a wish to talk with the lord of Greenwood about the election was the motive of his call. "I want to see if we can't fix things between us."
Scarcely had he spoken when there was a sudden rush of men, who seemed to appear from nowhere, and at the same instant Joe gave a shove to the bond-servant, which, being entirely unexpected, sent him sprawling on the gra.s.s, where he was pinioned by two of the party.
"Keep your mouth shut, or I'll have to choke you," said Bagby to Janice, as she opened her mouth to scream. "Two of you stand by her and keep her quiet. Sharp now, fellows, he's in his office. Have him out, and some of you start a fire, quick."
The orders were obeyed with celerity, and as some rushed into the hall and dragged forth the squire, struggling, the scene was lighted by the blazing up of a bunch of hay, which had appeared as if by magic, and on which sticks of wood were quickly burning. Over the fire a pot, swung on a stick upheld by two men, was placed, telling a story of intention only too obvious.
"There is n't any sort of use swearing like that, squire," said Bagby. "We've got a thing or two to say, and if you won't listen to it quiet, why, we'll fill your mouth with a lump of tar, to give you something to chew on while we say it. Cussing did n't prevent your being a babe in the wood, and it won't prevent our giving you a bishop's coat; so if you don't want it, have done, and listen to what we have to propose."
"Well?" demanded the squire.
"We've stood your conduct just as long as it was possible, squire," went on Bagby, "and been forbearing, hoping you 'd mend your ways. But it 's no use, and so we've come up this evening to give you a last chance to put yourself right, for we're a peace-loving, law-abiding lot, and don't want to use nothing but moral suasion, as the parson puts it, unless you make us."
"That 's it. Give it to him, Joe," said some one, approvingly.
"Now that the regulars of old Guelph have begun slaughtering the sons of liberty, we have decided to put an end to snakes in the gra.s.s, and so you can come to the face-about, or you can have a coat of tar and a ride on a rail out of the county. And what 's more, when you 're once out, you 're to stay out, mind. Which is your choice?"
"What do you want me to do?" demanded the squire, sullenly.
"First off we're tired of your brag that tea 's drunk on your table. You 're to give us all you've got, and you 're not to get any new, whether 't is East India or smuggled."
"I agree to that."
"Secondly," went on Bagby, in a sing-song voice, much as if he was reading a series of resolutions, "you 're to sign the Congress a.s.sociation, and live up to it."
The squire looked to right and left, as if considering some outlet; but there were men all about him, and after a pause he merely nodded his head.
"You 're getting mighty reasonable, squire," remarked Bagby, with a grin. "Lastly, we don't want to be represented in a.s.sembly by such a king's man, and so you're to decline a poll."
"If the electors don't want me, let them say so at the election."
"Some of your tenants are 'feared to vote against you, and we intend that this election shall be unanimous for the friends of liberty. Will you decline a poll?"
"Now d.a.m.n me if--" began the squire.
"Come, come, squire," interrupted an elderly man.
"Yer've stud no chance of election from the fust, so what 's the use of stickling?"
"I wash my hands of ye," roared the squire. "Have whom ye want for what ye want. I've done with serving a lot of ingrates. Ye can come to me in the future on your knees, but ye'll not get me to--"
"That's just what we wants," broke in Joe. "If you 'd always been so open to public opinion, we'd have had no cause for complaint against you. And now, squire, since a united land is what we wants, while your daughter gets the tea and a pen to sign the a.s.sociation, do the thing up handsome by singing us the liberty song."
"Burn me if I will," cried the owner of Greenwood, like many another yielding big points without much to-do, but obstinate over the small ones.
"Is that tar about melted?" inquired Bagby.
"Jest the right consistency, Joe," responded one of the pole-holders.
"Better sing it, squire," advised Bagby. "We know you 're not much at a song, but the sentiments is what we like."
Once again the beset man looked to right and left, rage and mortification united. Then, with a remark below his breath, he sang in a very tuneless ba.s.s, that wandered at will between flat and sharp, with not a little falsetto:--