The Parson O' Dumford Part 60

"By one of the workmen whom I have made my friend, and whom you have made your enemy; and he sends me as his messenger to pour coals of fire upon your head, saying, 'Save this man, for if he goes out to-night it may be at the cost of his life.' Mr Glaire, you will not go now?"

"Not go!" roared Richard, bringing his fist down heavily upon the table.

"But I will go. Look here; I start from this house at seven o'clock to catch the mail-train; now go and tell the scoundrels you have made your friends--the men you have encouraged in their strike against me."

"I encouraged them?" said the vicar, smiling at the absurdity of the charge, when he had striven so bravely for peace.

"Yes; you who have fed their wives and children, and lent them money so as to enable them to hold out against me--you, whose coming has been a curse to the place, for you have fostered the strike from the beginning."

"There is no time to argue that, Mr Glaire," said the vicar, quietly; "and let me advise you once more. Give up this foolish idea of leaving, if not for your own sake, for that of your mother and your cousin here."

"I shall not," cried Richard. "I have made my arrangements, and I shall go, and let the blood of the man be on his own head who tries to stop me."

"As you will," said the vicar, calmly, as he turned to go.

"Mr Selwood!"

"Mr Selwood!"

The two women appealed to him in a breath, but he did not look at them, merely fixed Richard with his eyes, as he said quietly:

"Then you must be saved against your will."

The next minute he was gone.

Volume 2, Chapter XVI.

SAVED IN SPITE OF HIMSELF.

The street was getting pretty full of people as the vicar walked sharply back towards his house, but they were all remarkably quiet. Sim Slee was there, but he turned off down a side lane, and there was this ugly appearance in their mien, that those who generally had a nod and smile for him refused now to meet the vicar's eye.

He knew it would be madness to try and persuade Sim's party against their plans, and only so much wasted time, so he contented himself with preparing his own, and, to his great satisfaction, found Tom Podmore and his other ally in waiting.

As he was pa.s.sing the Bull and Cuc.u.mber though, Robinson, the landlord, made a sign to him that he wished to speak, and the vicar went up to him.

"Ah, Robinson, how's your wife?"

"She's a very poor creature, sir. She coot her hand the other day with a bit of pot--old cheeny, and it's gone bad. She hasn't looked so bad ta year as she does now."

"I'm sorry to hear this."

"It's a bad job, sir, for she can't side the room, or remble the kitchen things, or owt. She tried to sile the milk this morning, and had to give it up, and let the la.s.s do it instead."

"Sile the milk?" said the vicar. "Ah, you mean strain it?"

"Ah, wi' uz," said the landlord, "we always call it sile. We strain a thing through a temse."

"Oh, do you?" said the vicar, wondering whether there was any connection between temse and tammies or tammy cloth. "But you were going to say something important to me, were you not?"

"Well, I weer, sir; only I shouldn't like it to seem to ha' come from me. Fact is, I were down at bottom o' the close in the bit of a beck, picking some watter cress for tea, and fine and wetcherd [wet shod] I got, when, as I was a stooping there, I heered Master Sim Slee cooming along wi' two or three more, and blathering about; and I heerd him talking o' you and Master d.i.c.ky Glaire, and it were plain enew that they was makking some plans, and not for good, mind you. I hadn't going to tell tales out o' school, but if you'd keep at home to-night, parson--"

"You fancy there's mischief brewing?" said the vicar, sternly.

"Well, yes, sir, I do," said the landlord. "You see, the men hold a kind of lodge or brotherhood meeting at my place, and I can't help knowing of some o' their doings."

"Well, Mr Robinson, if mischief is brewing, it's my business to try and spoil the brew; so I am going out to-night, and if you've any respect for me, you'll come and help me in my task."

He hurried on, and a short time after, the landlord saw him go by, with Tom Podmore and John Maine following at a short distance.

"Parson's a chap with brains in his head," said the landlord. "He's got a couple o' good bull-dogs to tramp at his heels; and, dal me, if they aint beckoned Big Harry to 'em. Well, I'll go too. I aint going to faight; but if I see any man hit parson, dal me, but I'll gi'e him a blob."

The vicar was not without hope that Richard would think better of the matter, and keep indoors, and after a turn or two up and down the street, which was pretty well thronged, the men looking stolid and heavy, but civilly making way for him, and always with a friendly word, it seemed as if there was nothing to fear, when from the lane at the side of the Big House there came a loud shout, and in an instant the whole of the men in the High Street seemed galvanised into life.

The vicar made for the lane, and had nearly reached it, when he saw Richard Glaire hatless and with his coat half-ripped from his back, rush out, pursued by shout and cry; and before the vicar and his little band of followers could get up, the young man was surrounded by a knot of men striking at him savagely, one of them hitting up the hand that held a pistol, which exploded, the bullet striking the opposite wall far over the heads of his a.s.sailants, and the weapon then fell to the ground.

A storm of furious cries arose, above which was a wild shriek from one of the windows of the big house--a shriek that sent two-fold vigour to the vicar's arms, as he struggled with the crowd that kept him back.

"Quick, Tom! Maine! Harry!" he cried. "Now, a rush together," he said, as they forced themselves to his side; and with all their might they made for the spot where Richard Glaire seemed to be undergoing the fate of being torn to pieces, for he was now stripped to s.h.i.+rt and trousers, and his face was bleeding; but, literally at bay, he fought savagely for his life.

The dash made by Mr Selwood saved him for the time, for though the vicar and his followers, with whom was now the landlord, did not reach the young man, they rent the crowd of a.s.sailants so as to make an avenue for him to escape, and he darted off at full speed towards the vicarage.

"My house, Glaire," shouted the vicar. "No, the church," amidst the storm of yells and cries, as he tried to fight his way free.

"After him, lads!" cried the shrill voice of Sim Slee; "and down wi'

them as interferes."

"Dal me, if I don't feel the brains of any man as hurts parson," cried the stentorian voice of one of the ringleaders. "Howd him, boys, and them others too. Give up, parson: it's no good to faight for that blaguard."

"If you are men and not cowards--" shouted the vicar, but his voice was drowned, he was seized by three men who held him good-temperedly enough in spite of his struggles, and with sinking heart, he found himself, separated from his followers, Big Harry being down with six men sitting on him to quell the mighty heaves he gave to set himself free.

"We wean't hurt thee, parson," said one of the men who kept him and his fellows prisoners. "See there, lads!"

He went down like a shot, for, by a clever twist learnt in wrestling, the vicar upset him on to the men holding Harry, and then by a mighty effort set himself at liberty, so staggering his captors that Harry got free as well. Then there was a charge, and Tom Podmore was up, and these three ran down the street after the crowd who pursued Richard.

"Harry, my lad! Tom, stick to me," cried the vicar, panting for breath.

"I shall never forgive myself or be forgiven if harm comes to that young man," he added to himself; and then das.h.i.+ng on with about as unclerical an aspect as was possible, he rapidly gained on Richard's pursuers, with Tom behind him, and Big Harry lumbering like an elephant at his heels.

Meanwhile the whole town was at the windows or in the streets; children were crying and women shrieking, while the more prudent tradespeople were busily putting up their "shuts." As for Richard, he had gone off like a hunted hare, doubling here and there to avoid the blows struck at him, and more than once it seemed as if he would escape; but the men had taken their steps well, and knowing that he would make for the station road, there was always a picket ready to cut him off, and drive him back to run the gauntlet afresh.

He had not heard the vicar's words, which were drowned by the savage hoots and yells, mingled with curses upon him, from half-starved women; but, oddly enough, he made straight for the house of the very man whom he hated, and nearly reached it, but was headed back, and fainting and exhausted, he only escaped capture by a clever double, by leaping a hedge, crossing the vicarage garden, and leaping another hedge, landing in the pasture-land leading towards Joe Banks's cottage, the vicarage standing at the apex formed by the roads leading to Ranby and the open land.

This double made a number of his pursuers run round by the road, and gave time to the vicar and his followers to close up to the hunted man.

"Make for the church," cried the vicar, who was close behind now; but his words were unheeded. All he could do was to get nearly behind the young man, determined to turn and face the crowd when they came up; but Richard, maddened with fear, paid no heed to advice, his breath was failing, he tottered, and was ready to fall; the pursuers gained upon them, and at last seeing the harbour, the hunted man dashed through the gate, in at Joe Banks's open door, closely followed by the vicar, Tom, and Big Harry, and then stood at bay in the farthest corner.

"Help, quick! Banks, help!" cried the vicar hoa.r.s.ely, and recovering from his astonishment, the foreman picked up the heavy poker, and joined the little rank of defenders, a swing of the iron forming a s.p.a.ce which none of those who crowded into the room, and darkened door and window as they thronged the garden, dared to cross.

"Stand back, you cowards!" cried the foreman, flus.h.i.+ng with rage, and forgetting his own trouble in the excitement of the moment.

"Gi'e him up! drag him out!" was roared.