It was about a month subsequent to this, that one morning, as Turner was making the anvil ring with the ponderous strokes of his hammer, two retainers from the castle entered the shed, and delivered an order from De Boteler for his immediate attendance. Wat laid the hammer on the anvil, and, passing the back of his right hand across his forehead, to clear away the large drops that stood there, looked with a kind of smile at the men as he said,
"You needn't go pitying him, nutherhe's a lousy Radical traitor. You do something to m?ake him sensible and out he goes."Thursday broke clear and windylittle curls of cloud flew high against spreads of watery blue, and the wind raced over Boarzell, smelling of wet furrows. As usual[Pg 163] everyone at Odiam was going to the Faireven Mrs. Backfield, for Reuben said that he would not let the girls go without her. Caro and Tilly were now fifteen and sixteen, and their father began to have fears lest they should marry and leave him. Tilly especially, with her creamy complexion like Naomi's, and her little tip-tilted nose, freckled over the bridge, gave him anxious times. He sternly discouraged any of the neighbouring farmers' sons who seemed inclined to call; he was not going to lose his daughters just when Mrs. Backfield's poor health made them indispensable. It could not be long before his mother diedalready her bouts of rheumatism were so severe that she was practically crippled each winterand when she died Tilly and Caro must take her place.Some of them in fact did go. Others remained, and sang:
FORE:Rose was taking out the pins, and curls and tendrils of hair began to fall on her shoulders. Caro took the brush, and swept it over the soft mass, gleaming like spun glass. A subtle perfume rose from it, the rub of[Pg 262] it on her hand was like silk. Rose's eyes closed as the brush stroked her, and her lips parted slowly into a smile."I reckon that must have come hard on f?atherhe always was unaccountable set on Pete. Heard anything of Tilly lately?"
FORE:"Can't you let it alone, Reuben?wewe've been so happy these last months not worrying about it. Must we ever start again?"The son sprang to his feet, and helped his mother, whose stoutness and stiffness made it a difficult matter, to rise too.
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"No, steward," said the spokesman of the smiths, "you are no prisoneryou are at liberty to go as soon as you like; and I would advise you, as a friend, to go quickly, for we men of the forest are not like your Sudley folk." Calverley, in some measure, re-assured by the unexpected mildness of this reply, quickly said,"Oh, I could try! Do you want a picture of Boarzell?""Indeed, master Turner, I have as little as any man to brag of; forifit hadn't been for the watching and the advice of poor father John, my old mother might have been this day hanging her head with shame, instead of looking up as bold as any of them, and saying, 'my son,' or 'my Tom,' as well as the best."