Tommy Part 13

"Still, if your country needs you?" suggested Alice.

"I am doing more important work at home," replied Harry; "they could not do without me at the mill. It's all very well for boys like Tom Pollard, who used to be so fond of you, but for people like me it's different."

There was a silence for a few minutes, and then Harry went on again:

"Alice, you know how fond I am of you--in fact, I have loved you all my life. You will marry me, won't you?"

Harry was very disappointed, and not a little surprised, that Alice did not answer in the affirmative right away; but he had conceded with fairly good grace when she had asked for a few days to think about it.

"It is all right," said Harry to himself as he left the house that night, "I am sure she means yes. And she's a fine la.s.s, the finest in Brunford."

That was why Alice sat alone that night thinking. She had promised to give Harry her definite reply in three days' time, and although she was very fond of him she could not bring herself to give him the answer he desired. When he had left the house her father and mother had come into the room.

"Well, Alice, have you fixed it up?"

She shook her head, but didn't speak.

"Come now, la.s.s, you needn't be so shy. I know he's asked you to wed him; he asked for my permission like a man, and then he told me he was going to speak to you to-night. You can't do better, my dear. Have you fixed it all up?"

"No," she said.

"What!" cried the father, "you don't mean to say you have been such a fool as to say no!"

"I have said nothing as yet," was her answer.

George Lister heaved a sigh of relief. "Ay, well," he said, "it's perhaps a good thing not to say yes at once. Hold him back two or three days and it will make him all the more eager. When a man comes to me to buy cloth I never shows as 'ow I am eager to sell. But of course you _will_ take him?"

"I don't know," replied Alice.

"Don't know! Why don't you know? You like him, don't you?"

"I don't know, father," she replied, and then she rushed out of the room.

"What's the meaning of this, la.s.s?" said George Lister to his wife.

"Has she told you anything?"

"Not a word," said Mrs. Lister.

"But surely she can't be such a fool as to refuse Harry! Why, there isn't a better chap in Brunford! He's an only son, and his father's bra.s.s will go to him when he dies."

But Mrs. Lister did not speak a word; in her eyes was a far-away look, as though she saw something which her husband did not see.

As for Alice, she sat for a long time thinking in silence.

Harry's words still rang in her ears; the memory of the look on his face as he left her still remained. Still she could not make up her mind. Yes, she liked Harry, in a way she admired him. He was a teacher in the Sunday School, he was a good business man, he was clever, and he was respected in the town; and yet she hesitated.

Hour after hour pa.s.sed away, and still she could not make up her mind.

In spite of Harry Briarfield's words she had not forgotten the lad from whom she had parted months before. Why was it? She thought she had forgotten him. He had been unworthy of her; he had taken up with a girl whom she despised, a coa.r.s.e, vulgar girl, and she had heard since that Polly Powell had been walking out with a number of young men. And Tom had preferred this kind of creature to her love. Her pride had been wounded, her self-respect had been shocked, and yet even now, while she was thinking of Harry Briarfield's proposal, her mind reverted to the boy who had gone away as a soldier.

The Town Hall clock boomed out the hour of midnight. Alice found herself mechanically counting the strokes of the deep-toned bell. Then she fell on her knees beside the bed, but the prayer which she had been wont to pray did not come to her lips. Her thoughts were far away; she pictured a distant battlefield; she imagined the boom of guns; she heard the clash of bayonets; she thought she heard the cries of wounded men, too; then a prayer involuntarily came to her lips:

"O G.o.d, save him! O G.o.d, help him and protect him!"

Thus it came to pa.s.s at the time Tom Pollard tried for the first time in many months to pray, and to formulate his distracted thoughts, Alice Lister was kneeling by her bedside also trying to pray.

CHAPTER VII

Tom Pollard's mind was suddenly brought back to mundane things. It was now nearly one o'clock in the morning, and the night was chilly; a breeze having sprung up, the clouds had rolled away.

He distinctly heard a shout, and as far as he could make out it came from the German trenches, which were not far away.

"Holloa!"

"Holloa!" said Tom, "what is it?" He thought one of the other men on patrol duty had spoken to him.

"You belong to the Lancas.h.i.+res, don't you?"

"Of course I do," replied Tom; "what of that?" He was able to locate the voice now, and knew it came from a German trench.

"I have got something to tell you," and the words were followed by a laugh.

Whoever it was spoke in perfectly good English, although with a German accent.

"I reckon it'll be lies," was Tom's reply.

By this time another sentry, hearing Tom's voice, had rushed up to him.

"What is it? Who goes there?" he called out.

"Listen," whispered Tom, "it's one of the Bosches speaking to me. What is it?" he asked aloud.

"Only this," and the German laughed as he spoke: "you Lancas.h.i.+res are going to attack us at six o'clock to-morrow morning, eleven hundred strong, and we're ready for you. That's all," and again the German laughed.

"What does he mean?" said Tom to the man who stood by his side. "I know nothing about any attack. Do you?"

"I knows there's something on foot," replied the other, "but what it is I don't know."

"Do you think we ought to tell one of the officers?"

"Nay, it's not worth the trouble," was the reply; "besides, it's only a bit of bluff."

Two hours later the English trenches were full of movement; evidently, as the other sentry had told Tom, something was on foot. Orders were given in low, tense tones, and although it wanted some time to daylight, preparations were evidently being made for an attack.

The words which the German had spoken weighed heavily on Tom's mind.

Of course he was only a private, but might not the news he had received mean something? The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that the German who spoke to him told the truth. Tom had no knowledge, and no warning, that an attack was to be made, and yet, within two hours from the time the German had spoken to him, preparations were being made for an attack. He knew, too, that his battalion was eleven hundred strong, having been reinforced only two days before. Seeing a young officer, he determined to speak to him and tell him what he had heard.