'And why should they hesitate?'inquired Mr.Archer.'The poor souls who are fallen to such a way of life,pray what have they to lose?If they get the money,well;but if a ball should put them from their troubles,why,so better.'
'Well,sir,'said the ostler,'I believe you'll find they won't agree with you.They count on a good fling,you see;or who would risk it?-And here's my best respects to you,Miss Nance.'
'And I forgot the part of cowardice,'resumed Mr.Archer.
'All men fear.'
'O,surely not!'cried Nance.
'All men,'reiterated Mr.Archer.
'Ay,that's a true word,'observed Old Cumberland,'and a thief,anyway,for it's a coward's trade.'
'But these fellows,now,'said Jonathan,with a curious,appealing manner -'these fellows with their seventy pounds!
Perhaps,Mr.Archer,they were no true thieves after all,but just people who had been robbed and tried to get their own again.What was that you said,about all England and the taxes?One takes,another gives;why,that's almost fair.
If I've been rooked and robbed,and the coat taken off my back,I call it almost fair to take another's.'
'Ask Old Cumberland,'observed the ostler;'you ask Old Cumberland,Miss Nance!'and he bestowed a wink upon his favoured fair one.
'Why that?'asked Jonathan.
'He had his coat taken -ay,and his shirt too,'returned the ostler.
'Is that so?'cried Jonathan eagerly.'Was you robbed too?'
'That was I,'replied Cumberland,'with a warrant!I was a well-to-do man when I was young.'
'Ay!See that!'says Jonathan.'And you don't long for a revenge?'
'Eh!Not me!'answered the beggar.'It's too long ago.But if you'll give me another mug of your good ale,my pretty lady,I won't say no to that.'
'And shalt have!And shalt have!'cried Jonathan.'Or brandy even,if you like it better.'
And as Cumberland did like it better,and the ostler chimed in,the party pledged each other in a dram of brandy before separating.
As for Nance,she slipped forth into the ruins,partly to avoid the ostler's gallantries,partly to lament over the defects of Mr.Archer.Plainly,he was no hero.She pitied him;she began to feel a protecting interest mingle with and almost supersede her admiration,and was at the same time disappointed and yet drawn to him.She was,indeed,conscious of such unshaken fortitude in her own heart,that she was almost tempted by an occasion to be bold for two.
She saw herself,in a brave attitude,shielding her imperfect hero from the world;and she saw,like a piece of heaven,his gratitude for her protection.
V -LIFE IN THE CASTLE
FROM that day forth the life of these three persons in the ruin ran very smoothly.Mr.Archer now sat by the fire with a book,and now passed whole days abroad,returning late,dead weary.His manner was a mask;but it was half transparent;through the even tenor of his gravity and courtesy profound revolutions of feeling were betrayed,seasons of numb despair,of restlessness,of aching temper.
For days he would say nothing beyond his usual courtesies and solemn compliments;and then,all of a sudden,some fine evening beside the kitchen fire,he would fall into a vein of elegant gossip,tell of strange and interesting events,the secrets of families,brave deeds of war,the miraculous discovery of crime,the visitations of the dead.Nance and her uncle would sit till the small hours with eyes wide open:
Jonathan applauding the unexpected incidents with many a slap of his big hand;Nance,perhaps,more pleased with the narrator's eloquence and wise reflections;and then,again,days would follow of abstraction,of listless humming,of frequent apologies and long hours of silence.Once only,and then after a week of unrelieved melancholy,he went over to the 'Green Dragon,'spent the afternoon with the landlord and a bowl of punch,and returned as on the first night,devious in step but courteous and unperturbed of speech.
If he seemed more natural and more at his ease it was when he found Nance alone;and,laying by some of his reserve,talked before her rather than to her of his destiny,character and hopes.To Nance these interviews were but a doubtful privilege.At times he would seem to take a pleasure in her presence,to consult her gravely,to hear and to discuss her counsels;at times even,but these were rare and brief,he would talk of herself,praise the qualities that she possessed,touch indulgently on her defects,and lend her books to read and even examine her upon her reading;but far more often he would fall into a half unconsciousness,put her a question and then answer it himself,drop into the veiled tone of voice of one soliloquising,and leave her at last as though he had forgotten her existence.It was odd,too,that in all this random converse,not a fact of his past life,and scarce a name,should ever cross his lips.A profound reserve kept watch upon his most unguarded moments.He spoke continually of himself,indeed,but still in enigmas;a veiled prophet of egoism.
The base of Nance's feelings for Mr.Archer was admiration as for a superior being;and with this,his treatment,consciously or not,accorded happily.When he forgot her,she took the blame upon herself.His formal politeness was so exquisite that this essential brutality stood excused.
His compliments,besides,were always grave and rational;he would offer reason for his praise,convict her of merit,and thus disarm suspicion.Nay,and the very hours when he forgot and remembered her alternately could by the ardent fallacies of youth be read in the light of an attention.She might be far from his confidence;but still she was nearer it than any one.He might ignore her presence,but yet he sought it.
