“And when my house is all ready, Will,” said he, “we will be married, and I will take Lucy home, for, indeed, it is high time we were settled down to the sober business of life. I think the wars are safely over, and that I may dig up my money from under the hearthstone.”
So it was duly settled amongst us that we would be married on the coming Easter Monday, and thereupon everything was bustle and preparation for the wedding. As for Ben, he went away to his home in the Marketplace at Pontefract, and inspected the damage it had suffered during the siege, which was not quite so great as he had feared, though a cannon-shot had indeed passed through the roof and caused much falling of bricks and mortar. Honest Ben, however, set to work with a right good will, and laboured so hard that his house speedily resumed something of its ancient air of solid respectability. When the outside was finished and the whole place made weathertight, Ben moved into it his furniture, which had been carried over to Dale’s Field when he went into the Castle, and with it were sent such things as my mother had promised Lucy against her marriage, these being matters of chairs and tables and bedding, together with such piles of linen as you would have thought they could never wear out. Then there was much arranging of chambers and parlours, and Lucy and Rose were at Ben’s house for a day together, so that finally Ben was in a grand state of readiness to receive his bride.
As for me, there were no great preparations to make at Dale’s Field, for the house was already fitted for its new mistress. There was not a corner of it that she did not know by that time, nor an acre of the surrounding fields and meadows that she had not crossed in company with me. The old place was as familiar to her as to me, and when she came home from church with me on the wedding-day it would only be in name that there would be any difference in the new mistress of Dale’s Field. Yet those last few weeks before our marriage seemed long to me, who had waited a long time for my love and had often been parted from her for long intervals. Bit by bit, however, they slipped away, and at last the day drew near which was to make us one.
Now, all that week before the wedding they were as busy as bees at Dale’s Field, for there was the wedding dinner to think for and provide, and Jacob Trusty insisted on having the great barn cleared for a dance and a supper to the men and their families, and Timothy Grass worked hard to have the garden put in order, and the maids scrubbed and swept until neither Ben nor I could find a corner wherein to rest our weary limbs. Much of that week, indeed, we spent at Pontefract with the tailor, who was making us exceeding fine raiment wherein to be married. The tailor, indeed, was as busy a man as you could have found in the three kingdoms that week, for he was also making new garments for Jack Drumbleforth and Tom Thorpe, who were going to act as best men. But with all this business and preparation it was a long week, and seemed to move with tender feet until Easter Sunday dawned upon us.
XLVII
Of My Last Meeting with Rupert Watson
It was one of the most beautiful days I ever remember to have known, that Easter Sunday of , for it was all sunshine and springing of flowers, and yet it went by surely in slower fashion than ever day did before. I was out and about early in the morning, and found the dew lying bright on the grass and the sunlight flooding the woods and meadows that stretch before my house. The trees were bursting into new leaf, and the garden—looking very smart and trim, thanks to Timothy Grass—was gay with primrose and crocus. I wandered about the fold and the buildings, thinking of what great happiness the morrow was to bring me, until the house door opened and Ben Tuckett came out and joined me.
“Heigho!” said Ben. “It seems a long time until tomorrow, Will. Would that old Father Time could jog on a little faster!”
“Have patience, Ben,” said I. “ ’Twill soon be noon, and soon it will be night, and then morning will dawn again and the great day will arrive.”
“Yea,” he answered, “but these last few hours seem exceeding long. I do not think I have slept three hours this night, and I am very sure I shall not sleep at all this coming night, for I shall lie awake considering of my new responsibilities. ’Tis a serious matter, this marrying business, Will.”
“Art thou afraid?”
“Marry, not I. But for all that ’tis, as I say, a serious thing. Thou seest, a man till he marries hath but himself to care for, but when he is wed he never knows to what extent his care will go. However, I am willing enough to offer myself a victim at the altar.”
“I believe you, Ben. You have been a faithful wooer.”
“Ever since I was a lad and used to come home with thee at holiday times. Yea, I have served my apprenticeship to this same love for as many years as Jacob served for Rachel. But the last days of the apprenticeship go very slowly, lad, and I would it were tomorrow, and Parson Drumbleforth had tied us up as securely as ring and book can do it.”
Not all the wishing in the world, however, could make the day go a whit faster, and we were fain to get it over in such patience as we could. For my own part, I would have spent it in wandering
