Abner Brown was by nature loyal and true—of that “grit” and character of which Nelson’s worthies were made. He was willing to work and to laugh in his work, and to serve with faithful service for three score years and ten. Do you not think he had cause to be grateful? He had three principal causes of gratitude.
His aged and helpless parents were to be turned into the road.
His sweetheart had committed suicide because her parents should not be punished for her disgrace.
He was himself in prison, labelled forever as a suspected murderer, simply because he was poor; for no man who wore broadcloth and gold watch-chain would have been committed on so unsupported a charge.
XXII
The day of the great presentation to Cornleigh Cornleigh, Esq., happening just now, Mr. Goring drove Felise in to Maasbury to attend the meeting. For five-and-twenty years he had avoided all such movements, retired among his trees, till at the moment when he desired to act he found himself powerless. Absolute silence—absolute retirement, destroys a man’s hold on the world. Not for the best of all objects could he now obtain the attention of the well-disposed; he could call no one to assist the innocent and helpless.
Alone, a man is powerless. It is when his voice acts like a lever that he is mighty; a lever that stirs those that hear it, and in their turn they stir others, till the circle widening, an irresistible wave is formed. He had to begin again at the beginning; first, to see and be present at what was going on; next, to make friends; and finally, to set foot in the ring and do battle.
Though happy with Martial, Felise, when by herself, was greatly depressed by the loss of Mary. If I have not set forth her sorrow in so many words, it is because it must be apparent that a nature like hers would be deeply grieved. Mr. Goring did not like her to remain at home alone, and persuaded her to accompany him into the town, thinking it would be in some degree a change. Martial was to join them there and return with them.
At the door of the assembly-room, in Maasbury, they were advised to go up in the gallery, as there was a considerable gathering of the opposition party, and a fight was probable. The gallery was reserved for ladies, or those who wished to be spectators merely. They went up, and found it already crowded with ladies, many of whom felt an interest in certain proceedings which were to precede the presentation.
Rosa was there, and saw Felise immediately—from that moment her eyes were fixed upon Felise—her glance crossed the looks of all others in the gallery: their eyes were bent upon the platform or the scene beneath; Rosa’s glance was across their line of sight. Felise was unconscious of Rosa’s presence, and was occupied in looking for Martial in the crowd below; at length Mr. Goring pointed him out on the platform.
When an eye looks steadily across the general line of view there seems something sinister in its gaze. Have you never chanced to look aside for a moment from the stage, or the concert, and accidentally caught such a glance regarding someone pitilessly? Your thought has just been filled with noble sentiment, or the ear with sweet sound; this interrupted glance reminds you that behind the scene of life passions or resentments are still burning.
The front of the crowd in the hall beneath was composed of farmers, or the farming interest, and of respectable tradesmen of Maasbury, who supported the platform with a firm cordon of the “right sort.” For some depth it was in fact packed with the Cornleigh Cornleigh party. But on the left side there began the thin end of the wedge of opposition, which gradually thickened till at the rear it widened out and held the whole hall by the doorway.
Anyone in the gallery with an eye for tactics could see that if danger was brewing, it would take effect through the thin end of the wedge, which went up within four or five of the platform. If this end were forced forwards by the thick part of the wedge behind, the opposition might very likely succeed in storming the platform.
To defend a position like a platform effectually you require a very stout cordon in front of it—a cordon equally thick everywhere, and a second body posted towards the other end of the hall to take assailants in flank. Military talent was, however, scarcely to be expected in Maasbury. Robert Godwin was on the platform, of course.
The opposition was composed of smaller tradesmen, work-people, lower middle-class people living in their own houses, men working in small factories, some very respectable persons from the villages (independent freeholders in a small way), a few labourers of strong political opinion who had stumped in and stood with their hands in their pockets, the tenants of rows of little houses that had been built in the suburbs on ground that did not belong to Cornleigh Cornleigh; in short, of “all sorts and conditions of men.”
Some rushes had occurred already, and a woman who had foolishly ventured into the hall had to be dragged out fainting.
“Quite a different scene, I assure you,” whispered Cornleigh Cornleigh’s solicitor (and prompter) to a London visitor at The House who was on the platform—“altogether a different scene to what we used to have at public meetings a few years ago. We used to have such orderly pleasant meetings, and everything went off smoothly and as you would wish. This is all owing to the ballot, you know; devilish thing, sir, the ballot!”
Somehow the Maasbury world had begun to lose its reverent awe of Cornleigh Cornleigh, Esq.
Felise was full of wonder at what she saw beneath her; she could not understand it. She had read the
