CHAPTER XXXVII.
I also could speak as ye do; if your soul were in my soul's stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake mine head at you.--_Book of Job._
In the interval since Esther parted with Felix Holt on the day of theriot, she had gone through so much emotion, and had already had sostrong a shock of surprise, that she was prepared to receive any newincident of an unwonted kind with comparative equanimity.
When Mr. Lyon had got home again from his preaching excursion, Felix wasalready on his way to Loamford Jail. The little minister was terriblyshaken by the news. He saw no clear explanation of Felix Holt's conduct;for the statements Esther had heard were so conflicting that she had notbeen able to gather distinctly what had come out in the examination bythe magistrates. But Mr. Lyon felt confident that Felix was innocent ofany wish to abet a riot or the infliction of injuries; what he chieflyfeared was that in the fatal encounter with Tucker he had been moved bya rash temper, not sufficiently guarded against by a prayerful andhumble spirit.
"My poor young friend is being taught with mysterious severity the evilof a too confident self-reliance," he said to Esther, as they satopposite to each other, listening and speaking sadly.
"You will go and see him, father?"
"Verily will I. But I must straightway go and see that poor afflictedwoman, whose soul is doubtless whirled about in this trouble like ashapeless and unstable thing driven by divided winds." Mr. Lyon rose andtook his hat hastily, ready to walk out, with his greatcoat flying openand exposing his small person to the keen air.
"Stay, father, pray, till you have had some food," said Esther, puttingher hand on his arm. "You look quite weary and shattered."
"Child, I cannot stay. I can neither eat bread nor drink water till Ihave learned more about this young man's deeds, what can be proved andwhat cannot be proved against him. I fear he has none to stand by him inthis town, for even by the friends of our church I have been ofttimesrebuked because he seemed dear to me. But, Esther, my beloved child----"
Here Mr. Lyon grasped her arm, and seemed in the need of speech toforget his previous haste. "I bear in mind this: the Lord knoweth themthat are His; but we--we are left to judge by uncertain signs, that sowe may learn to exercise hope and faith toward one another; and in thisuncertainty I cling with awful hope to those whom the world loves notbecause their conscience, albeit mistakenly, is at war with the habitsof the world. Our great faith, my Esther, is the faith of martyrs: Iwill not lightly turn away from any man who endures harshness because hewill not lie; nay, though I would not wantonly grasp at ease of mindthrough an arbitrary choice of doctrine, I cannot but believe that themerits of the Divine Sacrifice are wider than our utmost charity. I oncebelieved otherwise--but not now, not now."
The minister paused, and seemed to be abstractedly gazing at somememory: he was always liable to be snatched away by thoughts from thepursuit of a purpose which had seemed pressing. Esther seized theopportunity and prevailed on him to fortify himself with some of Lyddy'sporridge before he went out on his tiring task of seeking definitetrustworthy knowledge from the lips of various witnesses, beginning withthat feminine darkener of counsel, poor Mrs. Holt.
She, regarding all her trouble about Felix in the light of a fulfilmentof her own prophecies, treated the sad history with a preference foredification above accuracy, and for mystery above relevance, worthy of acommentator on the Apocalypse. She insisted chiefly, not on theimportant facts that Felix had sat at his work till after eleven, like adeaf man, had rushed out in surprise and alarm, had come back to reportwith satisfaction that things were quiet, and had asked her to set byhis dinner for him--facts which would tell as evidence that Felix wasdisconnected with any project of disturbances, and was averse to them.These things came out incidentally in her long plaint to the minister;but what Mrs. Holt felt it essential to state was, that long beforeMichaelmas was turned, sitting in her chair, she had said to Felix thatthere would be a judgment on him for being so certain sure about thePills and the Elixir.
"And now, Mr. Lyon," said the poor woman, who had dressed herself in agown previously cast off, a front all out of curl, and a cap with nostarch in it, while she held little coughing Job on her knee,--"and nowyou see--my words have come true sooner than I thought they would. Felixmay contradict me if he will; but there he is in prison, and here am I,with nothing in the world to bless myself with but half-a-crown a-weekas I've saved by my own scraping, and this house I've got to pay rentfor. It's not me has done wrong, Mr. Lyon there's nobody can say it ofme--not the orphan child on my knee is more innicent o' riot and murderand anything else as is bad. But when you've got a son so masterful andstopping medicines as Providence has sent, and his betters have beentaking up and down the country since before he was a baby, it's o' nouse being good here below. But he _was_ a baby, Mr. Lyon, and I gave himthe breast,"--here poor Mrs. Holt's motherly love over-came herexpository eagerness, and she fell more and more to crying as shespoke--"And to think there's folks saying now as he'll be transported,and his hair shaved off, and the treadmill, and everything. Oh, dear!"
As Mrs. Holt broke off into sobbing, little Job also, who had got aconfused yet profound sense of sorrow, and of Felix being hurt and goneaway, set up a little wail of wondering misery.
"Nay, Mistress Holt," said the minister, soothingly, "enlarge not yourgrief by more than warrantable grounds. I have good hope that my youngfriend, your son, will be delivered from any severe consequences beyondthe death of the man Tucker, which I fear will ever be a sore burden onhis memory. I feel confident that a jury of His country-men willdiscern between misfortune, or it may be misjudgment, and an evil will,and that he will be acquitted of any grave offence."
"He never stole anything in his life, Mr. Lyon," said Mrs. Holt,reviving. "Nobody can throw it in my face as my son ran away with moneylike the young man at the bank--though he looked most respectable, andfar different on a Sunday to what Felix ever did. And I know it's veryhard fighting with constables; but they say Tucker's wife'll be a dealbetter off than she was before, for the great folks'll pension her, andshe'll be put on all the charities, and her children at the Free School,and everything. Your trouble's easy borne when everybody gives it a liftfor you; and if judge and jury wants to do right by Felix, they'll thinkof his poor mother, with the bread took out of her mouth, all buthalf-a-crown a-week and furniture--which, to be sure, is most excellent,and of my own buying--and got to keep this orphin child as Felix himselfbrought on me. And I might send him back to his old grandfather onparish pay, but I'm not that woman, Mr. Lyon I've a tender heart. Andhere's his little feet and toes, like marbil; do but look"--here Mrs.Holt drew off Job's sock and shoe, and showed a well-washed littlefoot--"and you'll perhaps say I might take a lodger; but it's easytalking; it isn't everybody at a loose-end wants a parlor and a bedroom;and if anything bad happens to Felix, I may as well go and sit in theparish pound, and nobody to buy me out; for it's beyond everything howthe church members find fault with my son. But I think they might leavehis mother to find fault; for queer and masterful he might be, andflying in the face of the very Scripture about the physic, but he wasmost clever beyond anything--that I _will_ say--and was his own father'slawful child, and me his mother, that was Mary Wall thirty years beforeever I married his father." Here Mrs. Holt's feelings again became toomuch for her, but she struggled on to say, sobbingly, "And if they're totransport him, I should like to go to the prison and take the orphinchild; for he was most fond of having him on his lap, and said he'dnever marry; and there was One above overheard him, for he's been tookat his word."
Mr. Lyon listened with low groans, and then tried to comfort her bysaying that he would himself go to Loamford as soon as possible, andwould give his soul no rest till he had done all he could do for Felix.
On one point Mrs. Holt's plaint tallied with his own forebodings, and hefound them verified: the state of feeling in Treby among the LiberalDissenting flock was unfavorable to Felix. None who had observed his
conduct from the windows saw anything tending to excuse him, and his ownaccount of his motives, given on his examination, was spoken of withhead-shaking; if it had not been for his habit of always thinkinghimself wiser than other people, he would never have entertained such awild scheme. He had set himself up for something extraordinary, and hadspoken ill of respectable trades-people. He had put a stop to the makingof saleable drugs, contrary to the nature of buying and selling, and toa due reliance on what Providence might effect in the human insidethrough the instrumentality of remedies unsuitable to the stomach,looked at in a merely secular light; and the result was what might havebeen expected. He had brought his mother to poverty, and himself intotrouble. And what for? He had done no good to "the cause"; if he hadfought about Church-rates, or had been worsted in some struggle in whichhe was distinctly the champion of Dissent and Liberalism, his case wouldhave been one for gold, silver, and copper subscriptions, in order toprocure the best defence; sermons might have been preached on him, andhis name might have floated on flags from Newcastle to Dorchester. Butthere seemed to be no edification in what had befallen Felix. The riotat Treby, "turn it which way you would," as Mr. Muscat observed, was nogreat credit to Liberalism; and what Mr. Lyon had to testify as to FelixHolt's conduct in the matter of the Sproxton men, only made it clearthat the defence of Felix was the accusation of his party. The wholeaffair, Mr. Nuttwood said, was dark and inscrutable, and seemed not tobe one in which the interference of God's servants would tend to givethe glory where the glory was due. That a candidate for whom the richerchurch members had all voted should have his name associated with theencouragement of drunkenness, riot, and plunder, was an occasion for theenemy to blaspheme; and it was not clear how the enemy's mouth would bestopped by exertions in favor of a rash young man, whose interferencehad made things worse instead of better. Mr. Lyon was warned lest hishuman partialities should blind him to the interests of truth: it wasGod's cause that was endangered in this matter.
The little minister's soul was bruised; he himself was keenly alive tothe complication of public and private regards in this affair, andsuffered a good deal at the thought of Tory triumph in the demonstrationthat, excepting the attack on the Seven Stars, which called itself aWhig house, all damage to property had been borne by Tories. He caredintensely for his opinions, and would have liked events to speak forthem in a sort of picture-writing that everybody could understand. Theenthusiasms of the world are not to be stimulated by a commentary insmall and subtle characters which alone can tell the whole truth; andthe picture writing in Felix Holt's troubles was of an entirely puzzlingkind: if he were a martyr, neither side wanted to claim him. Yet theminister, as we have seen, found in his Christian faith a reason forclinging the more to one who had not a large party to back him. Thatlittle man's heart was heroic; he was not one of those Liberals who maketheir anxiety for "the cause" of Liberalism a plea for cowardlydesertion.
Besides himself, he believed there was no one who could bear testimonyto the remonstrances of Felix concerning the treating of the Sproxtonmen, except Jermyn, Johnson, and Harold Transome. Though he had thevaguest idea of what could be done in the case, he fixed his mind on theprobability that Mr. Transome would be moved to the utmost exertion, ifonly as an atonement; but he dared not take any step until he hadconsulted Felix, who he foresaw was likely to have a very strongdetermination as to the help he would accept or not accept.
This last expectation was fulfilled. Mr. Lyon returned to Esther, afterhis day's journey to Loamford and back, with less of trouble andperplexity in his mind: he had at least got a definite course markedout, to which he must resign himself. Felix had declared that he wouldreceive no aid from Harold Transome, except the aid he might give as anhonest witness. There was nothing to be done for him but what wasperfectly simple and direct. Even if the pleading of counsel had beenpermitted (and at that time it was not) on behalf of a prisoner on trialfor felony, Felix would have declined it: he would in any case havespoken in his own defence. He had a perfectly simple account to give,and needed not to avail himself of any legal adroitness. He consented toaccept the services of a respectable solicitor in Loamford, who offeredto conduct his case without any fees. The work was plain and easy, Felixsaid. The only witnesses who had to be hunted up at all were some whocould testify that he had tried to take the crowd down Hobb's Lane, andthat they had gone to the Manor in spite of him.
"Then he is not so much cast down as you feared, father?" said Esther.
"No, child; albeit he is pale and much shaken for one so stalwart. Hehath no grief, he says, save for the poor man Tucker, and for hismother; otherwise his heart is without a burden. We discoursed greatlyon the sad effect of all this for his mother, and on the perplexedcondition of human things, whereby even right action seems to bring evilconsequences, if we have respect only to our own brief lives, and not tothat larger rule whereby we are stewards of the eternal dealings, andnot contrivers of our own success."
"Did he say nothing about me, father?" said Esther, trembling a little,but unable to repress her egoism.
"Yes; he asked if you were well, and sent his affectionate regards. Nay,he bade me say something which appears to refer to your discoursetogether when I was not present. 'Tell her,' he said, 'whatever theysentence me to, she knows they can't rob me of my vocation. With povertyfor my bride, and preaching and pedagoguy for my business, I am sure ofa handsome establishment.' He laughed--doubtless bearing in mind someplayfulness of thine."
Mr. Lyon seemed to be looking at Esther as he smiled, but she was notnear enough for him to discern the expression of her face. Just then itseemed made for melancholy rather than for playfulness. Hers was not achildish beauty; and when the sparkle of mischief, wit and vanity wasout of her eyes, and the large look of abstracted sorrow was there, youwould have been surprised by a certain grandeur which the smiles hadhidden. That changing face was the perfect symbol of her mixedsusceptible nature, in which battle was inevitable, and the side ofvictory uncertain.
She began to look on all that had passed between herself and Felix assomething not buried, but embalmed and kept as a relic in a privatesanctuary. The very entireness of her preoccupation about him, theperpetual repetition in her memory of all that had passed between them,tended to produce this effect. She lived with him in the past; in thefuture she seemed shut out from him. He was an influence above her life,rather than a part of it; some time or other, perhaps, he would be toher as if he belonged to the solemn admonishing skies, checking herself-satisfied pettiness with the suggestion of a wider life.
But not yet--not while her trouble was so fresh. For it was still _her_trouble, and not Felix Holt's. Perhaps it was a subtraction from hispower over her, that she could never think of him with pity, because healways seemed to her too great and strong to be pitied; he wantednothing. He evaded calamity by choosing privation. The best part of awoman's love is worship; but it is hard to her to be sent away with herprecious spikenard rejected, and her long tresses too, that were letfall ready to soothe the wearied feet.
While Esther was carrying these things in her heart, the January dayswere beginning to pass by with their wonted wintry monotony, except thatthere was rather more of good cheer than usual remaining from the feastof Twelfth Night among the triumphant Tories, and rather more scandalthan usual excited among the mortified Dissenters by the wilfulness oftheir minister. He had actually mentioned Felix Holt by name in hisevening sermon, and offered up a petition for him in the evening prayer,also by name--not as "a young Ishmaelite, whom he would fain see broughtback from the lawless life of the desert, and seated in the same foldeven with the sons of Judah and of Benjamin," a suitable periphrasiswhich Brother Kemp threw off without any effort, and with all thefelicity of a suggestive critic. Poor Mrs. Holt, indeed, even in themidst of her grief, experienced a proud satisfaction that though shewas not a church member she was now an object of congregational remarkand ministerial allusion. Feeling herself a spotless character standingout in relief on a dark background o
f affliction, and a practicalcontradiction to that extreme doctrine of human depravity which she hadnever "given in to," she was naturally gratified and soothed by a noticewhich must be a recognition. But more influential hearers were ofopinion, that in a man who had so many long sentences at command as Mr.Lyon, so many parentheses and modifying clauses, this naked use of anon-scriptural Treby name in an address to the Almighty was all the moreoffensive. In a low unlettered local preacher of the Wesleyan persuasionsuch things might pass; but a certain style in prayer was demanded fromIndependents, the most educated body in the ranks of orthodox Dissent.To Mr. Lyon such notions seemed painfully perverse, and the next morninghe was declaring to Esther his resolution stoutly to withstand them, andto count nothing common or unclean on which a blessing could be asked,when the tenor of his thoughts was completely changed by a great shockof surprise which made both himself and Esther sit looking at each otherin speechless amazement.
The cause was a letter brought by a special messenger from Duffield; aheavy letter addressed to Esther in a business-like manner, quiteunexampled in her correspondence. And the contents of the letter weremore startling than its exterior. It began:
MADAM,--Herewith we send you a brief abstract of evidence which has come within our knowledge, that the right of remainder whereby the lineal issue of Edward Bycliffe can claim possession of the estates of which the entail was settled by John Justus Transome in 1729, now first accrues to you as the sole and lawful issue of Maurice Christian Bycliffe. We are confident of success in the prosecution of this claim, which will result to you in the possession of estates to the value, at the lowest, of from five to six thousand per annum----
It was at this point that Esther, who was reading aloud, let her handfall with the letter on her lap, and with a palpitating heart looked ather father, who looked again in silence that lasted for two or threeminutes. A certain terror was upon them both, though the thoughts thatlaid that weight on the tongue of each were different.
It was Mr. Lyon who spoke first.
"This, then, is what the man named Christian referred to. I distrustedhim, yet it seems he spoke truly."
"But," said Esther, whose imagination ran necessarily to thoseconditions of wealth which she could best appreciate, "Do they mean thatthe Transomes would be turned out of Transome Court, and that I shouldgo and live there? It seems quite an impossible thing."
"Nay, child, I know not. I am ignorant in these things, and the thoughtof worldly grandeur for you hath more of terror than of gladness for me.Nevertheless we must duly weigh all things, not considering aught thatbefalls us as a bare event, but rather as an occasion for faithfulstewardship. Let us go to my study and consider this writing further."
How this announcement, which to Esther seemed as unprepared as if it hadfallen from the skies, came to be made to her by solicitors other thanBatt & Cowley, the old lawyers of the Bycliffes, was by a sequence asnatural, that is to say, as legally natural, as any in the world. Thesecret worker of the apparent wonder was Mr. Johnson, who, on the veryday when he wrote to give his patron, Mr. Jermyn, the serious warningthat a bill was likely to be filed in Chancery against him, had carriedforward with added zeal the business already commenced, of arrangingwith another firm his share in the profits likely to result from theprosecution of Esther Bycliffe's claim.
Jermyn's star was certainly going down, and Johnson did not feel anunmitigated grief. Beyond some troublesome declarations as to his actualshare in transactions in which his name had been used, Johnson sawnothing formidable in prospect for himself. He was not going to beruined, though Jermyn probably was: he was not a high-flyer, but a mereclimbing-bird, who could hold on and get his livelihood just as well ifhis wings were clipped a little. And, in the meantime, here wassomething to be gained in this Bycliffe business, which, it was notunpleasant to think, was a nut that Jermyn had intended to keep for hisown particular cracking, and which would be rather a severe astonishmentto Mr. Harold Transome, whose manners towards respectable agents weresuch as leave a smart in a man of spirit.
Under the stimulus of small many-mixed motives like these, a great dealof business has been done in the world by well-clad and, in 1833,clean-shaven men, whose names are on charity lists, and who do not knowthat they are base. Mr. Johnson's character was not much moreexceptional than his double chin.
No system, religious or political, I believe, has laid it down as aprinciple that all men are alike virtuous, or even that all the peoplerated for L80 houses are an honor to their species.