THREE:"As you please, unthankful kern," replied the baron, haughtily. "De Boteler forces his gifts upon no onehere," he continued, throwing the piece to an attendant, who stood behind his chair"you will not refuse it." He then turned round to the table and commenced a game at cards, without further noticing Holgrave. The yeoman stood a few minutes awaiting the baron's pleasure, but perceiving he did not heed him, presently took Margaret's hand, and making a low obeisance, retired.Every now and then the crowd would start singing inanely:
FORE:She had been a foolshe had brooded over a little trivial incident till it had assumed unwarranted proportions and frightened her. Nothing whatever had happened to her and Handshutthey had shared a joke,[Pg 288] that was all. She did not love him, she loved her husband, and she was a fool to have thought anything else. Love was not a drama or a tragedy, but a game and a lark, or at times a comfortable emotion towards one's lawful husband, who was the best and finest man in the world."That's right, Sam; there is nothing left to tell we have been in the Chase to-night. Now hasten to bed as quickly as you can. You shall have a new suit at Easter for this night's business. But Master Calverley will not be well pleased that the buck was not lodged in Holgrave's barn. However, it cannot be helped now."
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THREE:"Pardon me, my liege," interposed Sudbury, "but it becomes not your grace to parley with a degraded monka bondman's son! one who would fain excite a spirit of insubordination among the class from which he sprung: who would sow the seeds of disobedience and disorder, and inculcate the absurd doctrine that all should be free!"Reuben, as was usual with him, tried to drown sorrow in hard work. He spent his whole day either in the yard or in the fields or out on Boarzell. He was digging a ditch round his new land, to let off the winter rain, and throughout the cool November damps he was on the Moor, watching the sunset's fiery glow behind the gorse, seeing the red clay squash and crumble[Pg 121] thickly under his spadespouting out drops of blood. In time all this fire and blood brought him back into his old purpose. Gradually the lust of conquest drove away regret. He had no more cause for self-reproach than an officer who loses a good soldier in battle. It is the fortune of war. And Naomi had not died without accomplishing her work and giving him men to help him in the fight.
THREE:
