Christy or the Merry-maid, none even in the great crucifix, she left the little church with a stony look upon her face not very unlike the Trannion rocks themselves. But in the porch stood old Simon Muggetty before her, and pinning her with his one bright eye.

"Tedn' the north side o' church you'm wantin' to sleep on, Charity Hornbuckle ? "

Charity with dry red eyes thought the old man must be really a witch, and she turned to escape him; it would be an immodesty to let even this old man suspect her design and her misery. But he laid hold of her, with a strong spade-grip that compelled obedience; and as her resistance weakened he made her sit down on the two-step plinth of the granite four-hole cross just beyond the porch.

"Missis Charity Hornbuckle," he said in his half comical tone, that made everyone ready for entertainment, " 'tis a purty li'l randigal1 as I've got to tell'ee. Most o' us," he continued, though her eyes were fixed on Trannion Head, "du take a longer pull o' life than yourn 'fore they finds there 'edn' a croom2 o' hope in the mug worth a penn'ord o' snuff. Iss: an' never was, likely. I knowed a tinner once, he'd a knocker3 of his own: what took un up to grass, her did, out o' the mine, an' give un his belly-full o' hope; but only so long's he was fuddled wi' the drink for soon's he wer' blind drunk, then her give 'un belly-vengeance; an' one day he went maazed and hanged unself, so un did. But most o' thicky suiciders, they don' want a long pull 'fore they seems to know by the taste of it that life is pi'son an' best throw'd 'fore they swalla' their fill of it. Ah, the world's only a big kiddle-a-wink 4 after all!-'edn' it, Missis Cherry?

"You'm not down to the grounds yet, Cappun, I'll wager, though ye du be so desmal," said Charity, already

1 Yarn.

2 Little bit. Fairy-miner, mostly friendly to the miners

A low beer-house.

cheered a bit by the half cynical, yet more comical talk of this wise old yarn-spinner.

"'Tis an old chucklehead, I du be," he said with a grim laugh; "likely I'll find a streak o' gold in the lode 'fore I'm done wi' un. But gettin' down to the dripshams1 o' yer mug, 'tis cruel hard if you'm doubled up with yer nose on yer knees like I be. 'Tis unpossible without I turns a crickmole2 an' then the mug might give a coot to my front teeth-if so be I'd got any left. But thicky old Sexton have exshumated all they li'l bones, the Lord be praised!"

Charity laughed outright at this, then cried no less unreservedly. The old Sexton had done his job.

66

Lay ye a quart," he said, putting his rooty hand upon her shoulder again, but now very tenderly, " 'tedn' the north side you'm thinkin' to sleep on? They rocks seem a bit spikky for a maiden's back to break on, an' the waves du seem a bit wet-like for her Sunday hat. A purty li'l randigal 'twould make, but no beef in it!" He hobbled away without another word, and Cherry went back into the church.

1 Last drops.

No profit or substance in it.

2 Somersault.

L

CHAPTER XXXV

"WHAT LACK I YET?"

ADY EVANGELINE'S obedience to her spiritual instincts and to the actions therein determined, gave her the strength and sweetness of soul that make some women seem all that their Maker could wish them to be. Sometimes dreamy with tenderness, sometimes opened wide upon Truth transcendent, her blue eyes and dominating brow won devotion from men as different as Mr. Trevenna and Major Walrond, Mr. Finnigan and her father. Simple-minded women, such as Dame Beckensawe, Martha Hornbuckle, Mrs. Robinson and her old nurse worshipped her. All children clung to her. Ever since her toddling infancy she needed but to seat herself alone in any shady grove for red-breasted robins, white-epauletted chaffinches and yellow-hammers to come hopping about her. Only a few ladies of the Court liked her for they met straighter lips than ever were shown to children, dogs, birds, or women of humble life, and found no invitation to intimacy. One may well believe that Mr. Trevenna alone had ever beheld the full beauty of her lips, or knew how weak an angelic tenderness could make her, how illogical a righteous indignation might leave her.

A portrait by Romney painted in 1783, while the Major was in Gibraltar, gives her undeniable beauty. She had repeatedly refused to sit either to this artist or to Reynolds until a letter from her husband begged her to have Walter painted. But Mr. Romney refused

to do it unless the child sat on his mother's lap and at the first sitting Walter on his part refused to be good unless his setter was included. So one of the artist's delicious groups was given to the world. The mother is seated, and, though her face is bent down upon the child, the artist has in his inimitable manner caught her blue eyes glancing up at the dog. Walter has his right hand gripping the fichu at her neck, while he holds up the forefinger of his other to the setter who, on his hind legs close to the mother's knee, suffers a morsel of sugar to rest on his nose-tip. Lady Evangeline's splendid black hair, unpowdered, so light and crisply rebellious that it must have given more pleasure to George Romney than to her maid, added grace to the stately neck and simplicity to the whole portrait. Her pale face is in three-quarters profile and informs us of her spacious brow, wide-set eyes and generous mouth. The nose is straight and well-proportioned, suggesting humour and sensitiveness. The upper lip is longer than this particular painter generally allows his subjects to claim; while the finely moulded chin of firm intent completes a portrait of winning and rare beauty.

So Lady Evangeline was able to leave Welton with a certain serenity of heart, despite the heart-rending with which Mr. Trevenna had met her offer of what was already his own. Had she fully realized the horrors he had seen in the wood or her mill, those Herod-stains perhaps had qualified this serenity. Nevertheless, throughout the journey her mind could not forget the children, who feared her loving touch. Starting from this fact alone, she soon reached the conclusion that Mr. Robinson and his curate were too stupid to believe anything that would disturb their consciences, and that Upshotter's restless eyes and fat neck predicated greed and lying. Her duty now stood plainly before her. Once Mr. Cornroach had done what was necessary to clear Luke, she would return to Welton and, before seeing Christopher, would devise means of disclosing all the

secrets of the mills. She and Sophy would find the way certainly she would never get honest help from any who feared the truth might harm them.

But Mr. Cornroach shook his head over the smugglers' case the more so when her ladyship related the whole story of her husband's implication in it. His chief concern, he averred, must always be the reputation and purse of his clients. Nevertheless, when he realized that his lordship's interest in the Kellinack case must be the delivery of his grandson, Lord Walrond's heir, from the reproach of paternal indiscretions, should the story be proclaimed to the world-as her ladyship actually threatened !-he agreed that the best legal help must be secured and money not stinted. He read the lady's character correctly and dismissed from his mind any thought of dissuading her from her amazing enterprise.

Accordingly Mr. Cornroach and a friend skilled in circumventing the criminal law, set out for the West. So fascinating a widow, the expert declared, would inspire the most slothful to serve her yet even he shook his head over the case and deplored a sanctimonious age when money had lost what was surely its due in a matter of such importance as this.

On the third day after her arrival in Golden Square, two letters reached Lady Evangeline, both bearing upon the approaching trial, and both upsetting her plans. One was from Charity and the other from Mr. Trevenna. The girl's was full of anxiety and even of reproach that nothing was being done for Luke. She and Mistress Kellinack had been to see them and were horrified at the conditions of the prison; for the magistrate had refused bail. Luke was thin as a rake," and his father and brothers little better. They were almost starved, although the jailor had been well supplied with money to get them proper food; and she was sure Luke had a fever on him. They could converse only through bars and, if anything was being done for them, they knew