Chapter 22
It was a fine bright night, and for all her lowness of spirits Dollykept looking up at the stars in a manner so bewitching (and SHE knewit!) that Joe was clean out of his senses, and plainly showed that ifever a man were--not to say over head and ears, but over the Monumentand the top of Saint Paul's in love, that man was himself. The road wasa very good one; not at all a jolting road, or an uneven one; and yetDolly held the side of the chaise with one little hand, all the way. Ifthere had been an executioner behind him with an uplifted axe readyto chop off his head if he touched that hand, Joe couldn't have helpeddoing it. From putting his own hand upon it as if by chance, and takingit away again after a minute or so, he got to riding along withouttaking it off at all; as if he, the escort, were bound to do that as animportant part of his duty, and had come out for the purpose. The mostcurious circumstance about this little incident was, that Dolly didn'tseem to know of it. She looked so innocent and unconscious when sheturned her eyes on Joe, that it was quite provoking.
She talked though; talked about her fright, and about Joe's coming up torescue her, and about her gratitude, and about her fear that she mightnot have thanked him enough, and about their always being friends fromthat time forth--and about all that sort of thing. And when Joe said,not friends he hoped, Dolly was quite surprised, and said not enemiesshe hoped; and when Joe said, couldn't they be something much betterthan either, Dolly all of a sudden found out a star which was brighterthan all the other stars, and begged to call his attention to the same,and was ten thousand times more innocent and unconscious than ever.
In this manner they travelled along, talking very little above awhisper, and wishing the road could be stretched out to some dozen timesits natural length--at least that was Joe's desire--when, as they weregetting clear of the forest and emerging on the more frequented road,they heard behind them the sound of a horse's feet at a round trot,which growing rapidly louder as it drew nearer, elicited a scream fromMrs Varden, and the cry 'a friend!' from the rider, who now came pantingup, and checked his horse beside them.
'This man again!' cried Dolly, shuddering.
'Hugh!' said Joe. 'What errand are you upon?'
'I come to ride back with you,' he answered, glancing covertly at thelocksmith's daughter. 'HE sent me.'
'My father!' said poor Joe; adding under his breath, with a veryunfilial apostrophe, 'Will he never think me man enough to take care ofmyself!'
'Aye!' returned Hugh to the first part of the inquiry. 'The roads arenot safe just now, he says, and you'd better have a companion.'
'Ride on then,' said Joe. 'I'm not going to turn yet.'
Hugh complied, and they went on again. It was his whim or humour toride immediately before the chaise, and from this position he constantlyturned his head, and looked back. Dolly felt that he looked at her, butshe averted her eyes and feared to raise them once, so great was thedread with which he had inspired her.
This interruption, and the consequent wakefulness of Mrs Varden, who hadbeen nodding in her sleep up to this point, except for a minute ortwo at a time, when she roused herself to scold the locksmith foraudaciously taking hold of her to prevent her nodding herself out ofthe chaise, put a restraint upon the whispered conversation, and madeit difficult of resumption. Indeed, before they had gone another mile,Gabriel stopped at his wife's desire, and that good lady protested shewould not hear of Joe's going a step further on any account whatever. Itwas in vain for Joe to protest on the other hand that he was by no meanstired, and would turn back presently, and would see them safely pastsuch a point, and so forth. Mrs Varden was obdurate, and being so wasnot to be overcome by mortal agency.
'Good night--if I must say it,' said Joe, sorrowfully.
'Good night,' said Dolly. She would have added, 'Take care of that man,and pray don't trust him,' but he had turned his horse's head, and wasstanding close to them. She had therefore nothing for it but to sufferJoe to give her hand a gentle squeeze, and when the chaise had gone onfor some distance, to look back and wave it, as he still lingered onthe spot where they had parted, with the tall dark figure of Hugh besidehim.
What she thought about, going home; and whether the coach-maker held asfavourable a place in her meditations as he had occupied in the morning,is unknown. They reached home at last--at last, for it was a long way,made none the shorter by Mrs Varden's grumbling. Miggs hearing the soundof wheels was at the door immediately.
'Here they are, Simmun! Here they are!' cried Miggs, clapping herhands, and issuing forth to help her mistress to alight. 'Bring achair, Simmun. Now, an't you the better for it, mim? Don't you feel moreyourself than you would have done if you'd have stopped at home? Oh,gracious! how cold you are! Goodness me, sir, she's a perfect heap ofice.'
'I can't help it, my good girl. You had better take her in to the fire,'said the locksmith.
'Master sounds unfeeling, mim,' said Miggs, in a tone of commiseration,'but such is not his intentions, I'm sure. After what he has seen of youthis day, I never will believe but that he has a deal more affectionin his heart than to speak unkind. Come in and sit yourself down by thefire; there's a good dear--do.'
Mrs Varden complied. The locksmith followed with his hands in hispockets, and Mr Tappertit trundled off with the chaise to a neighbouringstable.
'Martha, my dear,' said the locksmith, when they reached the parlour,'if you'll look to Dolly yourself or let somebody else do it, perhaps itwill be only kind and reasonable. She has been frightened, you know, andis not at all well to-night.'
In fact, Dolly had thrown herself upon the sofa, quite regardless ofall the little finery of which she had been so proud in the morning, andwith her face buried in her hands was crying very much.
At first sight of this phenomenon (for Dolly was by no means accustomedto displays of this sort, rather learning from her mother's example toavoid them as much as possible) Mrs Varden expressed her belief thatnever was any woman so beset as she; that her life was a continued sceneof trial; that whenever she was disposed to be well and cheerful, sosure were the people around her to throw, by some means or other, a dampupon her spirits; and that, as she had enjoyed herself that day, andHeaven knew it was very seldom she did enjoy herself so she was now topay the penalty. To all such propositions Miggs assented freely. PoorDolly, however, grew none the better for these restoratives, but ratherworse, indeed; and seeing that she was really ill, both Mrs Varden andMiggs were moved to compassion, and tended her in earnest.
But even then, their very kindness shaped itself into their usual courseof policy, and though Dolly was in a swoon, it was rendered clear tothe meanest capacity, that Mrs Varden was the sufferer. Thus whenDolly began to get a little better, and passed into that stage in whichmatrons hold that remonstrance and argument may be successfully applied,her mother represented to her, with tears in her eyes, that if she hadbeen flurried and worried that day, she must remember it was the commonlot of humanity, and in especial of womankind, who through the wholeof their existence must expect no less, and were bound to make up theirminds to meek endurance and patient resignation. Mrs Varden entreatedher to remember that one of these days she would, in all probability,have to do violence to her feelings so far as to be married; and thatmarriage, as she might see every day of her life (and truly she did) wasa state requiring great fortitude and forbearance. She represented toher in lively colours, that if she (Mrs V.) had not, in steering hercourse through this vale of tears, been supported by a strong principleof duty which alone upheld and prevented her from drooping, she musthave been in her grave many years ago; in which case she desired to knowwhat would have become of that errant spirit (meaning the locksmith), ofwhose eye she was the very apple, and in whose path she was, as it were,a shining light and guiding star?
Miss Miggs also put in her word to the same effect. She said that indeedand indeed Miss Dolly might take pattern by her blessed mother, who,she always had said, and always would say, though she were to be hanged,drawn, and quartered for it next minute
, was the mildest, amiablest,forgivingest-spirited, longest-sufferingest female as ever she couldhave believed; the mere narration of whose excellencies had worked sucha wholesome change in the mind of her own sister-in-law, that, whereas,before, she and her husband lived like cat and dog, and were in thehabit of exchanging brass candlesticks, pot-lids, flat-irons, and othersuch strong resentments, they were now the happiest and affectionatestcouple upon earth; as could be proved any day on application at GoldenLion Court, number twenty-sivin, second bell-handle on the right-handdoorpost. After glancing at herself as a comparatively worthless vessel,but still as one of some desert, she besought her to bear in mind thather aforesaid dear and only mother was of a weakly constitution andexcitable temperament, who had constantly to sustain afflictions indomestic life, compared with which thieves and robbers were as nothing,and yet never sunk down or gave way to despair or wrath, but, inprize-fighting phraseology, always came up to time with a cheerfulcountenance, and went in to win as if nothing had happened. When Miggsfinished her solo, her mistress struck in again, and the two togetherperformed a duet to the same purpose; the burden being, that Mrs Vardenwas persecuted perfection, and Mr Varden, as the representative ofmankind in that apartment, a creature of vicious and brutal habits,utterly insensible to the blessings he enjoyed. Of so refined acharacter, indeed, was their talent of assault under the mask ofsympathy, that when Dolly, recovering, embraced her father tenderly,as in vindication of his goodness, Mrs Varden expressed her solemn hopethat this would be a lesson to him for the remainder of his life,and that he would do some little justice to a woman's nature everafterwards--in which aspiration Miss Miggs, by divers sniffs andcoughs, more significant than the longest oration, expressed her entireconcurrence.
But the great joy of Miggs's heart was, that she not only picked upa full account of what had happened, but had the exquisite delight ofconveying it to Mr Tappertit for his jealousy and torture. For thatgentleman, on account of Dolly's indisposition, had been requested totake his supper in the workshop, and it was conveyed thither by MissMiggs's own fair hands.
'Oh Simmun!' said the young lady, 'such goings on to-day! Oh, graciousme, Simmun!'
Mr Tappertit, who was not in the best of humours, and who disliked MissMiggs more when she laid her hand on her heart and panted for breaththan at any other time, as her deficiency of outline was most apparentunder such circumstances, eyed her over in his loftiest style, anddeigned to express no curiosity whatever.
'I never heard the like, nor nobody else,' pursued Miggs. 'The idea ofinterfering with HER. What people can see in her to make it worth theirwhile to do so, that's the joke--he he he!'
Finding there was a lady in the case, Mr Tappertit haughtily requestedhis fair friend to be more explicit, and demanded to know what she meantby 'her.'
'Why, that Dolly,' said Miggs, with an extremely sharp emphasis on thename. 'But, oh upon my word and honour, young Joseph Willet is a braveone; and he do deserve her, that he do.'
'Woman!' said Mr Tappertit, jumping off the counter on which he wasseated; 'beware!'
'My stars, Simmun!' cried Miggs, in affected astonishment. 'You frightenme to death! What's the matter?'
'There are strings,' said Mr Tappertit, flourishing his bread-and-cheeseknife in the air, 'in the human heart that had better not be wibrated.That's what's the matter.'
'Oh, very well--if you're in a huff,' cried Miggs, turning away.
'Huff or no huff,' said Mr Tappertit, detaining her by the wrist. 'Whatdo you mean, Jezebel? What were you going to say? Answer me!'
Notwithstanding this uncivil exhortation, Miggs gladly did as she wasrequired; and told him how that their young mistress, being alone inthe meadows after dark, had been attacked by three or four tall men, whowould have certainly borne her away and perhaps murdered her, but forthe timely arrival of Joseph Willet, who with his own single hand putthem all to flight, and rescued her; to the lasting admiration of hisfellow-creatures generally, and to the eternal love and gratitude ofDolly Varden.
'Very good,' said Mr Tappertit, fetching a long breath when the tale wastold, and rubbing his hair up till it stood stiff and straight on endall over his head. 'His days are numbered.'
'Oh, Simmun!'
'I tell you,' said the 'prentice, 'his days are numbered. Leave me. Getalong with you.'
Miggs departed at his bidding, but less because of his bidding thanbecause she desired to chuckle in secret. When she had given vent toher satisfaction, she returned to the parlour; where the locksmith,stimulated by quietness and Toby, had become talkative, and was disposedto take a cheerful review of the occurrences of the day. But MrsVarden, whose practical religion (as is not uncommon) was usually of theretrospective order, cut him short by declaiming on the sinfulness ofsuch junketings, and holding that it was high time to go to bed. To bedtherefore she withdrew, with an aspect as grim and gloomy as that of theMaypole's own state couch; and to bed the rest of the establishment soonafterwards repaired.
Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty Page 23
