"He"s like to hang a lang crag when he hears about it."
"I mak" na doubt," said Matthew, showing no curiosity.
"It"s my belief "at the auld woman at Hendon is turning tail. You mind she was down last back end, and he wadn"t have nowt to say to her."
"Ey, I mind her," said Matthew.
"Every dog has his day, and I reckon yon dog"s day is nigh amaist done.
And it wad have been a vast shorter on"y Mercy hadn"t her eyes."
"Ey, ey," said Matthew, quietly.
"If the la.s.s had no"but been able to say, "Yon man is Drayton, and yon as you"ve got in prison is Ritson, and I saw the bad wark done," that would have settled it."
"Na doot," said Matthew, his head in the bowl.
"They warn"t for hearing me. When the parson took me up to Lunnon mair nor a twelvemonth agone, they sent us baith home with our tails atween our legs. "Bring us the young woman," they said; "your evidence will stand aside hers, but not alone. Bring the young woman to "dentify,"
they says. "She"s gone blind," we says. "We can"t help that," they says.
And that"s what they call justice up in Lunnon."
"Ey, ey," said Matthew.
"But then thoo has to mak" "lowances for them gentry folk--they"ve never been larn"t no better, thoo sees."
Gubblum"s porridge was bubbling, and the thivel worked vigorously.
Matthew had picked up the child from the hearth. The little fellow was tugging at his white beard.
"It were bad luck that me and Mercy didn"t stay a day or so langer in Hendon yon time. She had her eyes then. But the la.s.s was badly, and"
(dropping his voice) "that way, thoo knows, and I warn"t to prophesy what was to happen to poor Paul Ritson. So I brought her straight away home."
"So thoo did, Gubblum," said Matthew, stroking the child"s head.
"It"s that Hugh as is at the bottom of it all, I reckon. I"m not afraid to say it, if he is my master. I allus liked Paul Ritson--the reet one, thoo knows, not this taistrel that calls hisself Paul Ritson--but I cared so laal for Hugh that I could have taken him and wrowk"t the fire with him."
The porridge was ready, and Mercy set a wooden bowl on the table. "I"s fullen thy bicker, my la.s.s," said Gubblum. "I"s only a laal man, but I"s got a girt appet.i.te, thoo sees." Then turning to Matthew he continued: "But he"s like to pay for it. He brought his raggabash here, and now the rascal has the upper hand--that"s plain to see."
"So it be," said Matthew.
"Deemoralizin" all the country-side, what with his drinkin" and c.o.c.k-fightin" and terriers, an" I don"t know what. Theer"s d.i.c.k o" the Syke, he"s a ruined man this day, and John, the blacksmith, he"s never had a heat on the anvil for a week, and as for Job, the mason, he"s shaping to be mair nor ever like his Bible namesake, for he won"t have nowt but his dunghill to sit on soon."
"Dusta think they dunnot ken he"s the wrong man?" asked Matthew.
"Nay, Mattha, but a laal bit of money"s a wonderful thing, mind ye."
"It is for sure."
"One day he went to clogger Kit to be measur"t for new shoes. "What, Master Ritson," says Kit, "your foot"s langer by three lines nor when I put the tape on it afore.""
"Ah!"
"Next day Kit had an order for two pairs, forby a pair of leggins and clogs for Natt. That"s the way it"s manish"d."
Mercy had taken her child from her father"s knee, and was sitting on the sconce bench with it, holding a broken piece of a mirror before its face, and listening for its laugh when it saw itself in the gla.s.s.
"But he"s none c.u.mmerland--hearken to his tongue," said Matthew.
Gubblum put down his spoon on his plate, now empty.
"That minds me," he said, laughing, "that I met him out one day all dressed in his brave claes--them as might do for a n.i.g.g.e.r that plays the banjo. "Off for a spogue?" I says. "What"s a spogue?" he says, looking thunder. "Nay," I says, "you"re no"but a dalesman--ax folks up Hendon way," I says. I was peddling then, but Master Hugh "counters me another day, and he says, "Gubblum," he says, "I"s wanting a smart laal man, same as you, to weigh the ore on the bank-top--pund a week," he says."
"Ey, I mak" no doot they thowt to buy thee ower," said Matthew.
"They"ve made a gay canny blunder if they think they"ve put a swine ring on Gubblum"s snout. Buy or beat--that"s the word. They"ve bought most of the folk and made them as lazy as libbed b.i.t.c.hes. But they warn"t able to buy the Ritson"s b.i.t.c.h itself."
"What dusta mean, Gubblum?"
"What, man! thoo"s heard how the taistrel killed poor auld Fan? No?
Weel, thoo knows she was Paul Ritson"s dog, Fan was; and when she saw this man coming up the lonnin, she frisk"t and wag"t her tail. But when she got close to him she found her mistake, and went slenken off. He made shift to coax her, but Fan wad none be coaxed; and folks were takin" stock. So what dusta think the taistrel does, but ups with a stone and brains her."
"That"s like him, for sure," said Matthew. "But don"t the folk see that his wife as it might be, Miss Greta as was, won"t have nowt to say to him?"
"Nay, they say that"s no"but a rue-bargain, and she found out her mind after she wedded--that"s all the clot-heads think about it."
"Hark!" said Mercy, half rising from the sconce. "It"s Mrs. Ritson"s foot."
The men listened. "Nay, la.s.s, there"s no foot," said Gubblum.
"Yes, she"s on the road," said Mercy. Her face showed that pathetic tension of the other senses which is peculiar to the blind. A moment later Greta stepped into the cottage. The telegram which Brother Peter gave her at the church was still in her hand.
"Good-morning, Matthew; good-morning, Gubblum; I have news for you, Mercy. The doctors are coming to-day."
Mercy"s face fell perceptibly. The old man"s head drooped lower.
"There, don"t be afraid," said Greta, touching her hand caressingly. "It will soon be over. The doctors didn"t hurt you before, did they?"
"No; but this time it will be the operation," said Mercy. There was a tremor in her voice.
Greta had lifted the child from the sconce. The little fellow cooed close to her ear, and babbled his inarticulate nothings.
"Only think, when it"s all over you will be able to see your darling Ralphie for the first time!"
Mercy"s sightless face brightened. "Oh, yes," she said, "and watch him play, and see him spin his tops and chase the b.u.t.terflies. Oh, that will be very good!"
"Dusta say to-day, Mistress Ritson?" asked Matthew, the big drops standing in his eyes.
"Yes, Matthew; I will stay to see it over, and mind baby, and help a little."
Mercy took the little one from Greta"s arms and cried over it, and laughed over it, and then cried and laughed again. "Mamma and Ralphie shall play together in the garden, darling, and Ralphie shall see the horses--and the flowers--and the birdies--and mamma--yes, mamma shall see Ralphie. Oh, Mrs. Ritson, how selfish I am!--how can I ever repay you?"