The Parson O' Dumford Part 68

"Richard!"

"There now, are you satisfied?" he cried.

"I believe you, Richard," she said, ceasing to resist, but sitting back in the garden seat, and looking dreamily away.

"That's all right, then," he said. "Well, then, now we can talk about when the wedding is to be."

"No, no, Richard; not now, not now," she cried piteously, as she strove once more to get away.

"But we will, though," said the young man, flus.h.i.+ng at her resistance.

"It's all been settled long enough that you were to be my wife, so let's have none of your 'not nows,' miss."

"Let me go into the house, please, Richard," said Eve, coldly.

"Yes, my dear, when we've settled the wedding-day," said Richard.

"We cannot settle that now, Richard," said Eve.

"And why not, pray?"

"Because," she said, with her heart beating and her voice faltering, "I cannot forget for certainly a year or two, that which has taken place during the past few weeks."

"What?" he shouted.

"I think you understand me, Richard," said the girl, quietly, and making no effort now to free the wrist he so tightly held.

"Yes," he said, flus.h.i.+ng with pa.s.sion, "I do understand. You wish to throw me over because you have been angling for and catching that cursed intriguing parson."

"Richard!" cried Eve, turning red and stamping her foot upon the ground, "I will not stop and listen to such language."

"And in a pa.s.sion, too," he said, mockingly, "because her favourite is spoken of; but it won't do, madam. You're promised to me, and I wish the wedding to take place as soon as it can. Don't you think I'm going to let that beggarly meddling priest come between us."

"This is as cowardly as it is unjustifiable, Richard," exclaimed Eve.

"Is it?" he retorted. "Don't you think I'm blind. I've seen your soft looks at him; and, curse him, if he comes here again I'll strangle him-- an insidious crafty Jesuit. But don't you think me such a child as to believe I'm to be treated like this."

"You are hurting my wrist, Richard," said Eve, coldly, and speaking firmly now, for as her cousin began to bl.u.s.ter she grew calm.

"Hang your wrist," he said angrily; "my hands are not so tender as the parson's, I suppose."

"Richard," she said, with her voice trembling as she spoke, "Mr Selwood has always been to me as a gentlemanly, very kind friend, and to you the best of friends."

"d.a.m.n his friends.h.i.+p," said Richard, looking ugly in his wrath. "He's my enemy, and always has been, and he's trying to win you away. Ah! I know what it means: I'm to be thrown over, and you take up with him."

"Richard, this is as coa.r.s.e as it is cruel and unjust," cried Eve, now regularly roused; "and I will not submit to it. Mr Selwood is nothing to me but a friend."

"Indeed!" said Richard, with a sneer; "then pray what may this great change mean?"

"Mean!" she cried, scornfully; and Richard's eyes lit up, for he thought he had never seen her look so attractive before, "it means that you have cruelly outraged my feelings by your wickedness and deceit."

"My deceit!" he cried.

"Yes," she said, with contempt: "have you forgotten what I saw that evening in Ranby Wood? Have you forgotten the past year's neglect and contemptuous indifference to all my affection? Shame on you, Richard; shame! You ask me to be your wife, and tell me I am promised to you. I am; but you have broken the ties, and if I could forgive you, it must be years hence, when I have learned the truth of your sorrow for what is past."

Before he could recover from his surprise, she had s.n.a.t.c.hed away her hand to run, frightened and sobbing, to her own room, where she threw herself upon her knees, to weep and bewail her wickedness, for she was beginning to feel that there was some truth in her cousin's words, and that she had committed a sin, for whose enormity there could be no pardon.

"What is to become of me?" she wailed in her misery, as she went to her dressing-table, and started back in affright at her hot, flushed face.

"Oh, is it true that I have behaved as he says, and can Mr Selwood have seen my boldness?"

She sank into a chair to cover her face with her hands, but only to start and utter a faint cry as she felt them drawn away, and saw that Mrs Glaire was looking eagerly down upon her flushed and fevered cheeks.

Volume 3, Chapter II.

SIM SLEE'S BROTHERHOOD.

Many of Richard Glaire's workmen belonged to one of the regular trades'

unions, from which they received counsel and a.s.sistance, and these men held Sim Slee's movements in the most utter contempt. For his part, the above-named worthy returned the contempt, looking down upon trades'

unions as not being of sufficiently advanced notions for him, and praising up his own brotherhood to all who were weak enough to listen.

The brotherhood, as he called it, was entirely his own invention, as far as Dumford was concerned; but it was really based upon an absurd inst.i.tution that had place in London, and maintained a weak and sickly growth, being wanting in all the good qualities of the regular unions, and embracing every one of their faults.

But it pleased Sim Slee, who went upon the motto _Aut Caesar aut nullus_. In his own brotherhood he was chief, chairman, father, or patriarch. In the regular trades' union he would have been only Sim Slee, an individual largely held in contempt.

It was a great night at the Bull and Cuc.u.mber, for the brotherhood was to hold a secret meeting on the subject of the lock-out. Robinson, the landlord, took a great interest in the proceedings, and wanted to see all; but Sim Slee and one or two more leaders of the secret society condescended only to allow the inquiring mind to see to the arrangement of the tables and forms; and then, as the brotherhood a.s.sembled in secret conclave, they were ushered in with great ceremony, and every man seemed to be impressed with the solemnity.

In fact, the room was lit up for the occasion, curtains were tacked over the two windows, and flags were arranged on the walls, each flag bearing a device in tinsel. On one were the words:--

"The h.o.r.n.y Hand is the Nation's Need."

On another:--

"Labour Conquers All."

While over the president's chair, or, as Sim had christened himself, "the Grand Brother," was a roughly-drawn representation of the familiar skull and cross bones.

On the table were two stage swords, drawn from their sheaths, and laid crosswise; and at the door were a couple of sentries, over the said door being tacked the motto--"Free and Equal."

It was a great night, and every man of Sim's partisans looked solemn, but mugs of ale and long clay pipes were not excluded from the two tables, at which sat about a dozen men, as many more standing where they could find room.

There was a ridiculous aspect to the affair, but mingled with it was a grim look of determination, and many a stern face there wore an aspect that Richard Glaire would not have cared to see, even though he might have scoffed at the meeting, and called the men fools and idiots.

Sim Slee was the great gun of the evening, and he wore his plaid vest very much open, to display a clean s.h.i.+rt, at the edge of whose front fold it was observable that Mrs Slee's "scithers" had been at work, to take off what she termed the "dwiny" ends; but the b.u.t.tons refused to remain on terms of intimacy with their holes, with the consequence that the front gaped widely.

But Sim Slee was too important and excited to notice this, for he was busy over a book before him, and papers, and constantly in communication with the tall, heavy-looking man in black, Mr Silas Barker, the deputation from London, who was to help the brotherhood through their difficulties, and who had promised to coach and a.s.sist Sim in the great speech he was to make that evening.

At last all seemed about settled, and Sim rose to tap the table with a small wooden hammer, when he sat down again suddenly, for three loud knocks were heard at the door.

"Who knocks without?" said the first sentry.