"No; that would be begging. We must trust to their delicacy not to press too closely for a reason, when once a.s.sured that we respect them as highly as they possibly can us."

"You may trust them," said Margaret, "I am convinced. They will look in your face, and be satisfied without further question; and my advice, therefore, is, that you do not write, but go."

"I will; and now. They shall not suffer a moment's pain that I can save them. Good-night, my boy! What! you have not learned to kiss yet.

Well, among us all, you will soon know how, if teaching will do it.

What a spirit he has! I fancy he will turn out like Frank."

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE LONG NIGHTS.

Almost as soon as Hope had left the house, Sydney Grey arrived, looking full of importance. He took care to shut the door before he would tell his errand. His mother had been obliged to trust him for want of another messenger; and he delivered his message with a little of the parade of mystery he had derived from her. Mr Grey's family had become uneasy about his returning from the markets in the evening, since robberies had become so frequent as they now were, and the days so short; and had at length persuaded him to sleep at the more distant market-towns he had to visit, and return the next morning. From Blickley he could get home before the evening closed in; but on two days in the week he was to remain out all night. When he had agreed to this, his family had applauded him and felt satisfied: but as the evening drew on, on occasion of this his first absence, Mrs Grey and Sophia had grown nervous on their own account. They recalled story after story, which they had lately heard, of robberies at several solitary houses in the country round; and, though their house was not solitary, they could not reconcile themselves to going to rest without the comfort of knowing that there was, as usual, a strong man on their premises. If they had been aware how many strong men there were sometimes on their premises at night, they would not have been satisfied with having one within their walls. Not having been informed, however, how cleverly their dogs were silenced, how much poached game was divided under the shelter of their stacks of deals, and what dextrous abstractions were at such times made from the store of corn in their granaries, and coal in their lighters, they proposed nothing further than to beg the favour of Mr Hope that he would take a bed in their house for this one night. They dared not engage any of the men from the yards to defend them; they had not Mr Grey's leave, and he might not be pleased if they showed any fear to their own servants: but it would be the greatest comfort if Mr Hope would come, as if to supper, and stay the night. The spare room was ready; and Mrs Grey hoped he would not object to leaving his family just for once. Mr Grey intended to do the same thing twice a week, till the days should lengthen, and the roads become safer.

Though Sydney made the most of his message, he declared himself not thoroughly pleased with it.

"They might have trusted me to take care of them," said he. "If they had just let me have my father's pistols--."

"Come, come, Sydney, do not talk of pistols," said Hester, who did not relish any part of the affair.

"He would not talk of them if he thought they were likely to be wanted,"

observed Margaret.

"Likely! when were they ever more likely to be wanted, I should like to know! Did you hear what happened at the Russell Taylors' last night?"

"No; and we do not wish to hear. Do not tell us any horrible stories, unless you mean my husband to stay at home to-night."

"Oh, you must just hear this, because it ended well; that is, n.o.body was killed. Mr Walcot told Sophia all about it this morning; and it was partly that which made her so anxious to have some one sleep in the house to-night."

"Well, then, do not tell us, or you will make us anxious for the same thing."

"What would your mother say if you were to carry home word that Mr Hope could not come--that his family dare not part with him?"

"Oh, then she must let me have my father's pistols, and watch for the fellows. If they came about our windows as they did about the Russell Taylors', how I would let fly among them! They came rapping at the shutters, at two this morning; and when Mr Taylor looked out from his bedroom above, they said they would not trouble themselves to get in, if he would throw out his money!"

"And did he?"

"Yes. They raised a hat upon a pole, and he put in four or five pounds--all he had in the house, he told them. So they went away; but none of the family thought of going to bed again."

"I dare say not. And what sort of thieves are these supposed to be?

They set about their business very oddly."

"Not like London thieves," said Sydney, consequentially, as if he knew all about London thieves. "They are the distressed country people, no doubt--such as would no more think of standing a second shot from my pistol, than of keeping the straits of Thermopylae. Look here," he continued, showing the end of a pistol, which peeped from a pocket inside his coat; "here's a thing that will put such gentry into a fine taking."

"Pray, is that pistol loaded?" inquired Hester, pressing her infant to her.

"To be sure. What is the use of a pistol if it is not loaded? It might as well be in the shop as in my pocket, then. Look at her, cousin Margaret! If she is not in as great a fright as the cowardly thieves!

Why, cousin Hester, don't you see, if this pistol went off, it would not shoot you or the baby. It would go straight through me."

"That is a great comfort. But I had rather you would go away, you and your pistol. Pray, does your mother know that you carry one?"

"No. Mind you don't tell her. I trust you not to tell her. Remember, I would not have told you if I had not felt sure of you."

"You had better not have felt sure of us. However, we will not tell your mother; but my husband will tell Mr Grey to-morrow, when he comes home. If he chooses that you should carry loaded pistols about, there will be no harm done."

"I have a great mind to say I will shoot you if you tell," cried Sydney, presenting the pistol with a grand air. But he saw that he made his cousins really uneasy, and he laid it down on the table, offering to leave it with them for the night, if they thought it would make them feel any safer. There were plenty more at home.

"Thank you," said Margaret, "but I believe we are more afraid of loaded pistols than of thieves. The sooner you take it away the better. You can go now, presently, for here comes my brother."

Sydney quickly pocketed his pistol. Hope agreed to go, and promised to be at Mr Grey's to supper by nine o'clock.

Margaret was incessantly thinking of Maria in these long evenings, when alarms of one kind or another were all abroad. She now thought she would go with Sydney, and spend an hour or two with Maria, returning by the time her brother would be going to the Greys'. Maria's landlord would see her home, no doubt.

She found her friend busy with book and needle, and as well in health as usual, but obviously somewhat moved by the dismal stories which had travelled from mouth to mouth through Deerbrook during the day. It seemed hardly right that any person in delicate health should be lonely at such a time; and it occurred to Margaret that her friend might like to go home with her, and occupy the bed which was this night to spare.

Maria thankfully accepted the offer, and let Margaret put up her little bundle for her. The farrier escorted them to the steps of the corner-house, and then left them.

The door was half-open, as Morris was talking with some one on the mat in the hall. An extremely tall woman, with a crying baby in her arms, made way for the ladies, not by going out of the house, but by stepping further into the hall.

"Morris, had you not better shut the door?" said Margaret; "the wind blows in so, it is enough to chill the whole house."

But Morris held the door open, rather wider than before.

"So the gentleman is not at home," said the tall woman, gruffly. "If I come again in an hour with my poor baby, will he be at home then?"

"Is my brother gone, Morris?"

"Yes, Miss, three minutes ago."

"Then he will not be back in an hour. We do not expect him--."

"This good woman had better go to Mr Walcot, ma'am, as I have been telling her. There's no doubt he is at home."

"I could wait here till the gentleman comes home," said the tall woman; "and so get the first advice for my poor baby. 'Tis very ill, ma'am."

"Better go to Mr Walcot," persisted Morris.

"Or to my brother at Mr Grey's," said Margaret, unwilling to lose the chance of a new patient for Edward, and thinking his advice better, for the child's sake, than Mr Walcot's.

"It is far the readiest way to go to Mr Walcot's," declared Maria, whose arm Margaret felt to tremble within her own.

"I believe you are right," said Margaret. "You had better not waste any more time here, good woman. It may make all the difference to your child."

"If you would let me wait till the gentleman comes home," said the tall woman.

"Impossible. It is too late to-night for patients to wait. This lady's landlord, without there, will show you the way to Mr Walcot's. Call him, Morris."

Morris went out upon the steps, but the tall woman pa.s.sed her, and was gone. Morris stepped in briskly, and put up the chain.