第92章 CHAPTER III COMFORT IN SORROW (3)
\"Oh, yes--thank you.\" But as Mr. Hale was leaving the room, she ranafter him:
\"Papa--you must not wonder at what he says: he\"s an----I mean he doesnot believe in much of what we do.\"
\"Oh dear! a drunken infidel weaver!\" said Mr. Hale to himself, indismay. But to Margaret he only said, \"If your mother goes to sleep, besure you come directly.\"
Margaret went into her mother\"s room. Mrs. Hale lifted herself up froma doze.
\"When did you write to Frederick, Margaret? Yesterday, or the daybefore?\"
\"Yesterday, mamma.\"
\"Yesterday. And the letter went?\"
\"Yes. I took it myself\"
\"Oh, Margaret, I\"m so afraid of his coming! If he should be recognised!
If he should be taken! If he should be executed, after all these years thathe has kept away and lived in safety! I keep falling asleep and dreamingthat he is caught and being tried.\"
\"Oh, mamma, don\"t be afraid. There will be some risk no doubt; but wewill lessen it as much as ever we can. And it is so little! Now, if wewere at Helstone, there would be twenty--a hundred times as much.
There, everybody would remember him and if there was a strangerknown to be in the house, they would be sure to guess it was Frederick;while here, nobody knows or cares for us enough to notice what we do.
Dixon will keep the door like a dragon--won\"t you, Dixon--while he ishere?\"
\"They\"ll be clever if they come in past me!\" said Dixon, showing herteeth at the bare idea.
\"And he need not go out, except in the dusk, poor fellow!\"
\"Poor fellow!\" echoed Mrs. Hale. \"But I almost wish you had not written.
Would it be too late to stop him if you wrote again, Margaret?\"
\"I\"m afraid it would, mamma,\" said Margaret, remembering the urgencywith which she had entreated him to come directly, if he wished to seehis mother alive.
\"I always dislike that doing things in such a hurry,\" said Mrs. Hale.
Margaret was silent.
\"Come now, ma am,\" said Dixon, with a kind of cheerful authority, \"youknow seeing Master Frederick is just the very thing of all others you\"relonging for. And I\"m glad Miss Margaret wrote off straight, without
shilly-shallying. I\"ve had a great mind to do it myself. And we\"ll keephim snug, depend upon it. There\"s only Martha in the house that wouldnot do a good deal to save him on a pinch; and I\"ve been thinking shemight go and see her mother just at that very time. She\"s been sayingonce or twice she should like to go, for her mother has had a strokesince she came here, only she didn\"t like to ask. But I\"ll see about herbeing safe off, as soon as we know when he comes, God bless him! Sotake your tea, ma\"am, in comfort, and trust to me.\"
Mrs. Hale did trust in Dixon more than in Margaret. Dixon\"s wordsquieted her for the time. Margaret poured out the tea in silence, tryingto think of something agreeable to say; but her thoughts made answersomething like Daniel O\"Rourke, when the man-in-the-moon asked himto get off his reaping-hook. \"The more you ax us, the more we won\"tstir.\" The more she tried to think of something anything besides thedanger to which Frederick would be exposed--the more closely herimagination clung to the unfortunate idea presented to her. Her motherprattled with Dixon, and seemed to have utterly forgotten the possibilityof Frederick being tried and executed--utterly forgotten that at her wish,if by Margaret\"s deed, he was summoned into this danger. Her motherwas one of those who throw out terrible possibilities, miserableprobabilities, unfortunate chances of all kinds, as a rocket throws outsparks; but if the sparks light on some combustible matter, theysmoulder first, and burst out into a frightful flame at last. Margaret wasglad when, her filial duties gently and carefully performed, she could godown into the study. She wondered how her father and Higgins had goton.
In the first place, the decorous, kind-hearted, simple, old-fashionedgentleman, had unconsciously called out, by his own refinement andcourteousness of manner, all the latent courtesy in the other.
Mr. Hale treated all his fellow-creatures alike: it never entered into hishead to make any difference because of their rank. He placed a chair forNicholas stood up till he, at Mr. Hale\"s request, took a seat; and calledhim, invariably, \"Mr. Higgins,\" instead of the curt \"Nicholas\" or \"Higgins,\"
to which the \"drunken infidel weaver\" had been accustomed. ButNicholas was neither an habitual drunkard nor a thorough infidel. Hedrank to drown care, as he would have himself expressed it: and he wasinfidel so far as he had never yet found any form of faith to which hecould attach himself, heart and soul.
Margaret was a little surprised, and very much pleased, when she foundher father and Higgins in earnest conversation--each speaking withgentle politeness to the other, however their opinions might clash.
Nicholas--clean, tidied (if only at the pump-trough), and quiet spoken-wasa new creature to her, who had only seen him in the rough
independence of his own hearthstone. He had \"slicked\" his hair downwith the fresh water; he had adjusted his neck-handkerchief, andborrowed an odd candle-end to polish his clogs with and there he sat,enforcing some opinion on her father, with a strong Darkshire accent, itis true, but with a lowered voice, and a good, earnest composure on hisface. Her father, too, was interested in what his companion was saying.
He looked round as she came in, smiled, and quietly gave her his chair,and then sat down afresh as quickly as possible, and with a little bow ofapology to his guest for the interruption. Higgins nodded to her as asign of greeting; and she softly adjusted her working materials on thetable, and prepared to listen.