THE STORY OF BESSIE COSTRELL  BY MRS. HUMPHRY WARD AUTHOR OF “ ROBERT ELSMERE , ” “ THE HISTORY OF DAVID GRIEVE , ” “ MARCELLA , ” ETC.  LONDON : SMITH , ELDER + CO. , 15 , WATERLOO PLACE .  1895.  ( All rights reserved .  )  THE STORY OF BESSIE COSTRELL  SCENE I  IT was an August evening , still and cloudy after a day unusually chilly for the time of year .  Now , about sunset , the temperature was warmer than it had been in the morning , and the departing sun was forcing its way through the clouds , breaking up their level masses into delicate latticework of golds and greys .  The last radiant light was on the wheat-fields under the hill , and on the long chalk hill itself .  Against that glowing background lay the village , already engulfed by the advancing shadow .  All the nearer trees , which the daylight had mingled in one green monotony , stood out sharp and distinct , each in its own plane , against the hill .  Each natural object seemed to gain a new accent , a more individual beauty , from the vanishing and yet lingering sunlight .  An elderly labourer was walking along the road which led to the village .  To his right lay the allotment gardens just beginning to be alive with figures , and the voices of men and children .  Beyond them , far ahead , rose the square tower of the church ; to his left was the hill , and straight in front of him the village , with its veils of smoke lightly brushed over the trees , and its lines of cottages climbing the chalk steeps behind it .  His eye as he walked took in a number of such facts as life had trained it to notice .  Once he stopped to bend over a fence , to pluck a stalk or two of oats .  He examined them carefully ; then he threw back his head and sniffed the air , looking all round the sky meanwhile .  Yes , the season had been late and harsh , but the fine weather was coming at last .  Two or three days 'warmth now would ripen even the oats , let alone the wheat .  Well , he was glad .  He wanted the harvest over .  It would , perhaps , be his last harvest at Clinton Magna , where he had worked , man and boy , for fifty-six years come Michaelmas .  His last harvest !  A curious pleasure stirred the man 'sveins as he thought of it , a pleasure in expected change , which seemed to bring back the pulse of youth , to loosen a little the yoke of those iron years that had perforce aged and bent him ; though , for sixty-two , he was still hale and strong .  Things had all come together .  Here was “ Muster ” Hill , the farmer he had worked for these seventeen years , dying of a sudden , with a carbuncle on the neck , and the farm to be given up at Michaelmas .  He — John Bolderfield — had been working on for the widow ; but , in his opinion , she was “ nobbut a caselty sort of body , ” and the sooner she and her children were taken off to Barnet , where they were to live with her mother , the less she 'dcost them as had the looking after her .  As for the crops , they would n't pay the debts ; not they .  And there was no one after the farm — “ nary one ” — and did n't seem like to be .  That would make another farm on Muster Forrest 'shands .  Well , and a good job .  Landlords must be “ took down ; ” and there was plenty of work going on the railway just now for those that were turned off .  He was too old for the railway , though , and he might have found it hard to get fresh work if he had been staying at Clinton .  But he was not staying .  Poor Eliza would n't last more than a few days ; a week or two at most , and he was not going to keep on the cottage after he 'dburied her .  Aye , poor Eliza !  She was his sister-in-law , the widow of his second brother .  He had been his brother 'slodger during the greater part of his working life , and since Tom 'sdeath he had stayed on with Eliza .  She and he suited each other , and the “ worritin ' childer ” had all gone away years since and left them in peace .  He did n't believe Eliza knew where any of them were , except Mary , “ married over to Luton ” — and Jim , and Jim 'sLouisa .  And a good riddance too .  There was not one of them knew how to keep a shilling when they 'dgot one .  Still , it was a bit lonesome for Eliza now , with no one but Jim 'sLouisa to look after her .  He grew rather downhearted as he trudged along , thinking .  She and he had stuck together “ a many year .  ” There would be nobody left for him to go along with when she was gone .  There was his niece Bessie Costrell and her husband , and there was his silly old cousin Widow Waller .  He dared say they 'dboth of them want him to live with them .  At the thought a grin crossed his ruddy face .  They both knew about it — that was what it was .  And he would n't live with either of them , not he .  Not yet a bit , anyway .  All the same , he had a fondness for Bessie and her husband .  Bessie was always very civil to him — he chuckled again — and if anything had to be done with it , while he was five miles off at Frampton on a job of work that had been offered him , he did n't know but he 'das soon trust Isaac Costrell and Bessie as anybody else .  You might call Isaac rather a fool , what with his religion , and “ extemp'ry prayin ', an 'that , ” but all the same Bolderfield thought of him with a kind of uneasy awe .  If ever there was a man secure of the next world it was Isaac Costrell .  His temper , perhaps , was “ nassty , ” which might pull him down a little when the last account came to be made up ; and it could not be said that his elder children had come to much , for all his piety .  But , on the whole , Bolderfield only wished he stood as well with the powers talked about in chapel every Sunday as Isaac did .  As for Bessie , she had been a wasteful woman all her life , with never a bit of money put by , and never a good dress to her back .  But , “ Lor bless yer , there was a many worse folk nor Bessie .  ” She was n't one of your sour people — she could make you laugh ; she had a merry heart .  Many a pleasant evening had he passed chatting with her and Isaac ; and whenever they cooked anything good there was always a bite for him .  Yes , Bessie had been a good niece to him ; and if he trusted any one he dared say he 'dtrust them .  “ Well , how 'sEliza , Muster Bolderfield ?  ” said a woman who passed him in the village street .  He replied , and then went his way , sobered again , dreading to find himself at the cottage once more , and in the stuffy upper room with the bed and the dying woman .  Yet he was not really sad , not here at least , out in the air and the sun .  There was always a thought in his mind , a fact in his consciousness , which stood between him and sadness .  It had so stood for a long , long time .  He walked through the village to-night in spite of Eliza and his sixty years with a free bearing and a confident glance to right and left .  He knew , and the village knew , that he was not as other men .  He passed the village green with its pond , and began to climb a lane leading to the hill .  Half-way up stood two cottages sideways .  Phloxes and marigolds grew untidily about their doorways , and straggly roses , starved a little by the chalk soil , looked in at their latticed windows .  They were , however , comparatively modern and comfortable , with two bedrooms above and two living-rooms below , far superior to the older and more picturesque cottages in the main street .  John went in softly , put down his straw dinner-bag , and took off his heavy boots .  Then he opened a door in the wall of the kitchen , and gently climbed the stairs .  A girl was sitting by the bed .  When she saw his whitish head and red face emerge against the darkness of the stair-hole , she put up her finger for silence .  John crept in and came to look at the patient .  His eyes grew round and staring , his colour changed .  “ Is she a-goin '?  ” he said , with evident excitement .  Jim 'sLouisa shook her head .  She was rather a stupid girl , heavy and round-faced , but she had nursed her grandmother well .  “ No ; she 'sasleep .  Muster Drew 'sbeen here , and she dropped off while he was a-talkin 'to her .  ”  Mr. Drew was the Congregational minister .  “ Did she send for him ?  ”  “ Yes ; she said she felt her feet a-gettin 'cold , and I must run .  But I do n't believe she 'sno worse .  ”  John stood looking down , ruefully .  Suddenly the figure in the bed turned .  “ John , ” said a comparatively strong voice which made Bolderfield start — “ John , Muster Drew says you 'doughter put it in the bank .  You 'llbe a fool if yer do n't , ' ee says .  ”  The old woman 'spinched face emerged from the sheets , looking up at him .  Bluish patches showed here and there on the drawn white skin ; there was a great change since the morning , but the eyes were still alive .  John was silent a moment , one corner of his mouth twitching , as though what she had said struck him in a humorous light .  “ Well , I do n't know as I mind much what 'ee says , ' Liza .  ”  “ Sit down .  ”  She made a movement with her emaciated hand .  John sat down on the chair Louisa gave up to him , and bent down over the bed .  “ If yer woa n't do — what Muster Drew says , John — whatever wull yer do with it ?  ”  She spoke slowly , but clearly .  John scratched his head .  His complexion had evidently been very fair .  It was still fresh and pink , and the full cheek hung a little over the jaw .  The mouth was shrewd , but its expression was oddly contradicted by the eyes , which had on the whole a childish , weak look .  “ I think yer must leave it to me , ' Liza , ” he said at last .  “ I 'lldo all for the best .  ”  “ No — yer 'llnot , John , ” said the dying voice .  “ You 'da done a many stupid things — if I ' ad n't stopped yer .  An ' I 'ma-goin '.  You 'llnever leave it wi 'Bessie ?  ”  “ An ' who ' ud yer 'ave me leave it with ?  Ai n't Bessie my own sister 'schild ?  ”  An emaciated hand stole out of the bed-clothes and fastened feebly on his arm .  “ If yer do , John , yer 'llrepent it .  Yer never were a good one at judgin 'folk .  Yer doa n't consider nothin ' — an ' I 'ma-goin '.  Leave it with Saunders , John .  ”  There was a pause .  Then John said with an obstinate look —  “ Saunders 'as never been a friend o 'mine , since 'ee did me out o 'that bit o 'business with Missus Moulsey .  An ' I do n't mean to go makin 'friends with him again .  ”  Eliza withdrew her hand with a long sigh , and her eyelids closed .  A fit of coughing shook her ; she had to be lifted in bed , and it left her gasping and deathly .  John was sorely troubled , and not only for himself .  When she was more at ease again , he stooped to her and put his mouth to her ear .  “ ' Liza , do n't yer think no more about it .  Did Mr. Drew read to yer ?  Are yer comfortable in yer mind ?  ”  She made a sign of assent , which showed , however , no great interest in the subject .  There was silence for a long time .  Louisa was getting supper downstairs .  John , oppressed by the heat of the room and tired by his day 'swork , had almost fallen asleep in his chair , when the old woman spoke again .  “ John — what 'ud you think o 'Mary Anne Waller ?  ”  The whisper was still human and eager .  John roused himself , and could not help an astonished laugh .  “ Why , whatever put Mary Anne into your head , ' Liza ?  Yer never thought anythink o 'Mary Anne — no more than me .  ”  Eliza 'seyes wandered round the room .  “ P'raps — ” she said , then stopped , and could say no more .  She seemed to become unconscious , and John went to call for Louisa .  In the middle of the night John woke with a start , and sat up to listen .  Not a sound — but they would have called him if the end had come .  He could not rest , however , and presently he huddled on some clothes and went to listen at Eliza 'sdoor .  It was ajar , and hearing nothing he pushed it open .  Poor Eliza lay in her agony , unconscious , and breathing heavily .  Beside her sat the widow , Mary Anne Waller , and Louisa , motionless too , their heads bent .  There was an end of candle in a basin behind the bed , which threw circles of wavering light over the coarse whitewash of the roof and on the cards and faded photographs above the tiny mantelpiece .  John crept up to the bed .  The two women made a slight movement to let him stand between them .  “ Ca n't yer give her no brandy ?  ” he asked , whispering .  Mary Anne Waller shook her head .  “ Dr. Murch said we wer' n't to trouble her .  She 'llgo when the light comes — most like .  ”  She was a little shrivelled woman with a singularly delicate mouth , that quivered as she spoke .  John and Eliza Bolderfield had never thought much of her , though she was John 'scousin .  She was a widow , and greatly “ put upon ” both by her children and her neighbours .  Her children were grown up , and settled — more or less — in the world , but they still lived on her freely whenever it suited them ; and in the village generally she was reckoned but a poor creature .  However , when Eliza — originally a hard , strong woman — took to her bed with incurable disease , Mary Anne Waller came in to help , and was accepted .  She did everything humbly ; she even let Louisa order her about .  But before the end , Eliza had come to be restless when she was not there .  Now , however , Eliza knew no more , and the little widow sat gazing at her with the tears on her cheeks .  John , too , felt his eyes wet .  But after half an hour , when there was still no change , he was turning away to go back to bed , when the widow touched his arm .  “ Wo n't yer give her a kiss , John ?  ” she said timidly .  “ She wor a good sister to you .  ”  John , with a tremor , stooped , and clumsily did as he was told — the first time in his life he had ever done so for Mary Anne .  Then , stepping as noiselessly as he could on his bare feet , he hurried away .  A man shares nothing of that yearning attraction which draws women to a death-bed as such .  Instead , John felt a sudden sickness at his heart .  He was thankful to find himself in his own room again , and thought with dread of having to go back — for the end .  In spite of his still vigorous and stalwart body , he was often plagued with nervous fears and fancies .  And it was years now since he had seen death — he had , indeed , carefully avoided seeing it .  Gradually , however , as he sat on the edge of his bed in the summer dark , the new impression died away , and something habitual took its place — that shielding , solacing thought , which was in truth all the world to him , and was going to make up to him for Eliza 'sdeath , for getting old , and the lonesomeness of a man without chick or child .  He would have felt unutterably forlorn and miserable , he would have shrunk trembling from the shapes of death and pain that seemed to fill the darkness , but for this fact , this defence , this treasure , that set him apart from his fellows and gave him this proud sense of superiority , of a good time coming in spite of all .  Instinctively , as he sat on the bed , he pushed his bare foot backwards till his heel touched a wooden object that stood underneath .  The contact cheered him at once .  He ceased to think about Eliza , his head was once more full of whirling plans and schemes .  The wooden object was a box that held his money , the savings of a labourer 'slifetime .  Seventy-one pounds !  It seemed to him an ocean of gold , never to be exhausted .  The long toil of saving it was almost done .  After the Frampton job , he would begin enjoying it , cautiously at first , taking a bit of work now and again , and then a bit of holiday .  All the savour of life was connected for him with that box .  His mind ran over the constant excitements of the many small loans he had made from it to his relations and friends .  A shilling in the pound interest — he had never taken less and he had never asked more .  He had only lent to people he knew well , people in the village whom he could look after , and seldom for a term longer than three months , for to be parted from his money at all gave him physical pain .  He had once suffered great anxiety over a loan to his eldest brother of thirty pounds .  But in the end James had paid it all back .  He could still feel tingling through him the passionate joy with which he had counted out the recovered sovereigns , with the extra three half-sovereigns of interest .  Muster Drew indeed !  John fell into an angry inward argument against his suggestion of the savings bank .  It was an argument he had often rehearsed , often declaimed , and at bottom it all came to this — without that box under his bed , his life would have sunk to dulness and decrepitude ; he would have been merely a pitiful and lonely old man .  He had neither wife nor children , all for the hoard 'ssake ; but while the hoard was there , to be handled any hour , he regretted nothing .  Besides , there was the peasant 'srooted distrust of offices , and paper transactions , of any routine that checks his free will and frightens his inexperience .  He was still eagerly thinking when the light began to flood into his room , and before he could compose himself to sleep the women called him .  But he shed no more tears .  He saw Eliza die , his companion of forty years , and hardly felt it .  What troubled him all through the last scene was the thought that now he should never know why she was so set against “ Bessie 's' avin ' it .  ”  SCENE II  IT was , indeed , the general opinion in Clinton Magna that John Bolderfield — or “ Borrofull , ” as the village pronounced it , took his sister-in-law 'sdeath too lightly .  The women especially pronounced him a hard heart .  Here was “ poor Eliza ” gone , Eliza who had kept him decent and comfortable for forty years , ever since he was a lad , and he could go about whistling , and — to talk to him — as gay as a lark !  Yet John contributed handsomely to the burial expenses — Eliza having already , through her burial club , provided herself with a more than regulation interment ; and he gave Jim 'sLouisa her mourning .  Nevertheless these things did not avail .  It was felt instinctively that he was not beaten down as he ought to have been , and Mrs. Saunders , the smith 'swife , was applauded when she said to her neighbours that “ you could n't expeck a man with John Bolderfield 'smoney to have as many feelin 'sas other people .  ” Whence it would seem that the capitalist is no more truly popular in small societies than in large .  John , however , did not trouble himself about these things .  He was hard at work harvesting for Muster Hill 'swidow , and puzzling his head day and night as to what to do with his box .  When the last field had been carried and the harvest supper was over , he came home late , and wearied out .  His working life at Clinton Magna was done ; and the family he had worked for so long was broken up in distress and poverty .  Yet he felt only a secret exultation .  Such toil and effort behind — such a dreamland in front !  Next day he set to work to wind up his affairs .  The furniture of the cottage was left to Eliza 'sson Jim , and the daughter had arranged for the carting of it to the house twelve miles off where her parents lived .  She was to go with it on the morrow , and John would give up the cottage and walk over to Frampton , where he had already secured a lodging .  Only twenty-four hours !  — and he had not yet decided .  Which was it to be — Saunders , after all — or the savings bank — or Bessie ?  He was cording up his various possessions — a medley lot — in different parcels and bundles when Bessie Costrell knocked at the door .  She had already offered to stow away anything he might like to leave with her .  “ Well , I thought you 'dbe busy , ” she said as she walked in , “ an ' I came up to lend a hand .  Is them the things you 'regoin ' to leave me to take care on ?  ”  John nodded .  “ Field 'scart , as takes Louisa 'sthings to-morrer , is a-goin 'to deliver these at your place first .  They 'remore nor I thought they would be .  But you can put ' em anywheres .  ”  “ Oh , I 'llsee to them .  ”  She sat down and watched him tie the knots of the last parcel .  “ There 'ssome people as is real ill-natured , ” she said presently , in an angry voice .  “ Aye ?  ” said John , looking up sharply .  “ What are they sayin 'now ?  ”  “ It 'sMuster Saunders .  ' Ee 'sallus sayin 'nassty things about other folks .  And there 'dbe plenty of fault to be found with ' im , if onybody was to try .  An ' Sally Saunders eggs him on dreadful .  ”  Saunders was the village smith , a tall , brawny man , of great size and corresponding wisdom , who had been the village arbiter and general councillor for a generation .  There was not a will made in Clinton Magna that he did not advise upon ; not a bit of contentious business that he had not a share in ; not a family history that he did not know .  His probity was undisputed ; his ability was regarded with awe ; but as he had a sharp tongue and was no respecter of persons , there was of course an opposition .  John took a seat on the wooden box he had just been cording , and mopped his brow .  His full cheeks were crimson , partly with exertion , partly with sudden annoyance .  “ What 's' ee been sayin 'now ?  Though it doa n't matter a brass farthin ' to me what ' ee says .  ”  “ He says you 'ave n't got no proper feelin 's about poor Eliza , an ' you 'dought to have done a great deal more for Louisa .  But ' ee says you allus were a mean one with your money — an ' you knew that ' ee knew it — for 'ee 'dstopped you takin ' an unfair advantage more nor once .  An ' ' ee did n't believe as your money would come to any good ; for now Eliza was gone you would n't know how to take care on it .  ”  John 'seyes flamed .  “ Oh !  ' ee says that , do ' ee ?  Well , Saunders wor allus a beast — an ' a beast 'ee 'llbe .  ”  He sat with his chin on his large dirty hands , ruminating furiously .  It was quite true that Saunders had thwarted him more than once .  There was old Mrs. Moulsey at the shop , when she wanted to buy those cottages in Potter 'sRow — and there was Sam Field the higgler — both of them would have borrowed from him if Saunders had n't cooled them off .  Saunders said it was a Jew 'sinterest he was asking — because there was security — but he was n't going to accept a farthing less than his shilling a pound for three months — not he !  So they might take it or leave it .  And Mrs. Moulsey got hers from the Building Society , and Sam Field made shift to go without .  And John Bolderfield was three pounds poorer that quarter than he need have been — all along of Saunders .  And now Saunders was talking “ agen him ” like this — blast him !  “ Oh , an ' then he went on , ” pursued Bessie with gusto , “ about your bein 'too ignorant to put it in the post-office .  ' Ee said you 'dthink Edwards would go an ' spend it ” ( Edwards was the post-master ) , “ an ' then he laughed fit to split 'imself .  Yer could n't see more nor the length of your own nose , he said , — it was edication you wanted .  As for 'im , ' ee said , ' ee 'dhave kep 'it for you if you 'dasked him , but you 'dbeen like a bear with a sore 'ead , ' ee said , ever since Mrs. Moulsey 'saffair — so 'ee did n't suppose you would .  ”  “ Well , ' ee 'sabout right there , ” said John , grimly ; “ ' ee 'stalkin ' sense for onst when ' ee says that .  I 'ddig a hole in the hill and bury it sooner nor I 'dtrust it to ' im — I would , by — ” he swore vigorously .  “ A thieving set of magpies is all them Saunders — cadgin '' ere and cadgin 'there .  ”  He spoke with fierce contempt , the tacit hatred of years leaping to sight .  Bessie 'sbright brown eyes looked at him with sympathy .  “ It was just his nassty spite , ” she said .  “ He knew ' ee could never ha ' done it — not what you 'vedone — out o ' your wages .  Not unless ' ee got Sally to tie 'im to the dresser with ropes so as ' ee could n't go a-near the Spotted Deer no more !  ”  She laughed like a merry child at her own witticism , and John relished it too , though he was not in a laughing mood .  “ Why , ” continued Bessie with enthusiasm , “ it was Muster Drew as said to me the other afternoon , as we was walkin '' ome from the churchyard , says ' ee , ‘Mrs .  Costrell , I call it splendid what John 'sdone — I do , ’ ' ee says .  ‘A labourer on fifteen shillin 'sa week — why , it 'san example to the county , ’ ' ee says .  ‘'Ee ought to be showed.’ ”  John 'sface relaxed .  The temper and obstinacy in the eyes began to yield to the weak complacency which was their more normal expression .  There was silence for a minute or two .  Bessie sat with her hands on her lap and her face turned towards the open door .  Beyond the cherry-red phloxes outside it , the ground fell rapidly to the village , rising again beyond the houses to a great stubble field , newly shorn .  Gleaners were already in the field , their bent figures casting sharp shadows on the golden upland , and the field itself stretched upwards to a great wood that lay folded round the top of a spreading hill .  To the left , beyond the hill , a wide plain travelled into the sunset , its level spaces cut by the scrawled elms and hedgerows of the nearer landscape .  The beauty of it all — the beauty of an English midland — was of a modest and measured sort , depending chiefly on bounties of sun and air , on the delicacies of gentle curves and the pleasant intermingling of wood and cornfield , of light spaces with dark , of solid earth with luminous sky .  Such as it was , however , neither Bessie nor John spared it a moment 'sattention .  Bessie was thinking a hundred busy thoughts .  John , on the other hand , had begun to consider her with an excited scrutiny .  She was a handsome woman , as she sat in the doorway with her fine brown head turned to the light .  But John naturally was not thinking of that .  He was in the throes of decision .  “ Look ' ere , Bessie , ” he said suddenly ; “ what 'ud you say if I wor to ask Isaac an ' you to take care on it ?  ”  Bessie started slightly .  Then she looked frankly round at him .  She had very keen , lively eyes , and a bright red-brown colour on thin cheeks .  The village applied to her the epithet which John 'sthoughts had applied to Muster Hill 'swidow .  They said she was “ caselty , ” which means flighty , haphazard , excitable ; but she was popular , nevertheless , and had many friends .  It was , of course , her own settled opinion that her uncle ought to leave that box with her and Isaac ; and it had wounded her vanity , and her affection besides , that John had never yet made any such proposal , though she knew — as , indeed , the village knew — that he was perplexed as to what to do with his hoard .  But she had never dared to suggest that he should leave it with her , out of fear of Eliza Bolderfield .  Bessie was well aware that Eliza thought ill of her , and would dissuade John from any such arrangement if she could .  And so formidable was Eliza — a woman of the hardest and sourest virtue — when she chose , that Bessie was afraid of her , even on her death-bed , though generally ready enough to quarrel with other people .  Nevertheless , Bessie had always felt that it would be a crying shame and slight if she and Isaac did not have the guardianship of the money .  She thirsted , perhaps , to make an impression upon public opinion in the village , which , as she instinctively realized , held her cheaply .  And then , of course , there was the secret thought of John 'sdeath , and what might come of it .  John had always loudly proclaimed that he meant to spend his money , and not leave it behind him .  But the instinct of saving , once formed , is strong .  John , too , might die sooner than he thought — and she and Isaac had children .  She had come up , indeed , that afternoon , haunted by a passionate desire to get the money into her hands ; yet the mere sordidness of “ expectations ” counted for less in the matter than one would suppose .  Vanity , a vague wish to ingratiate herself with her uncle , to avoid a slight — these were , on the whole , her strongest motives .  At any rate , when he had once asked her the momentous question , she knew well what to say to him .  “ Well , if you arst me , ” she said hastily , “ of course we think as it 'sonly nateral you should leave it with Isaac an ' me , as is your own kith and kin .  But we was n't goin ' to say nothin '; we did n't want to be pushin ' of ourselves forward .  ”  John rose to his feet .  He was in his shirt-sleeves , which were rolled up .  He pulled them down , put on his coat , an air of crisis on his fat face .  “ Where ' ud you put it ?  ” he said .  “ Yer know that cupboard by the top of the stairs ?  It 'ud stand there easy .  And the cupboard 'sgot a good lock to it ; but we 'd' ave it seen to , to make sure .  ”  She looked up at him eagerly .  She longed to feel herself trusted and important .  Her self-love was too often mortified in these respects .  John fumbled round his neck for the bit of black cord on which he kept two keys — the key of his room while he was away , and the key of the box itself .  “ Well , let 'sget done with it , ” he said .  “ I 'moff to-morrer mornin ', six o'clock .  You go and get Isaac to come down .  ”  “ I 'llrun , ” said Bessie , catching up her shawl and throwing it over her head .  “ He wor just finishin 'his tea .  ”  And she whirled out of the cottage , running up the steep road behind it as fast as she could .  John was vaguely displeased by her excitement ; but the die was cast .  He went to make his arrangements .  Bessie ran till she was out of breath .  When she reached her own house , a cottage in a side lane above the Bolderfields 'cottage and overlooking it from the back , she found her husband sitting with his pipe at the open door and reading his newspaper .  Three out of her own four children were playing in the lane , otherwise there was no one about .  Isaac greeted her with a nod and slight lightening of the eyes , which , however , hardly disturbed the habitual sombreness of the face .  He was a dark , finely featured man , with grizzled hair , carrying himself with an air of sleepy melancholy .  He was much older than his wife , and was a prominent leader in the little Independent chapel of the village .  His melancholy could give way on occasion to fits of violent temper .  For instance , he had been almost beside himself when Bessie , who had leanings to the Establishment , as providing a far more crowded and entertaining place of resort on Sundays than her husband 'schapel , had rashly proposed to have the youngest baby christened in church .  Other Independents did it freely — why not she ?  But Isaac had been nearly mad with wrath , and Bessie had fled upstairs from him , with her baby , and bolted the bedroom door in bodily terror .  Otherwise , he was a most docile husband — in the neighbours 'opinion , docile to absurdity .  He complained of nothing , and took notice of little .  Bessie 'suntidy ways left him indifferent ; his main interest was in a kind of religious dreaming , and in an Independent paper to which he occasionally wrote a letter .  He was gardener at a small house on the hill , and had rather more education than most of his fellows in the village .  For the rest , he was fond of his children , and , in his heart of hearts , exceedingly proud of his wife , her liveliness and her good looks .  She had been a remarkably pretty girl when he married her , some eight years after his first wife 'sdeath , and there was a great difference of age between them .  His two elder children by his first marriage had long since left the home .  The girl was in service .  It troubled him to think of the boy , who had fallen into bad ways early .  Bessie 'schildren were all small , and she herself still young , though over thirty .  When Bessie came up to him , she looked round to see that no one could hear .  Then she stooped and told him her errand in a panting whisper .  He must go down and fetch the box at once .  She had promised John Borrofull that they would stand by him .  They were his own flesh and blood — and the cupboard had a capital lock — and there was n't no fear of it at all .  Isaac listened to her at first with amazement , then sulkily .  She had talked to him often certainly about John 'smoney , but it had made little impression on his dreamer 'ssense .  And now her demand struck him disagreeably .  He did n't want the worrit of other people 'smoney , he said .  Let them as owned it keep it ; filthy lucre was a snare to all as had to do with it ; and it would only bring a mischief to have it in the house .  After a few more of these objections , Bessie lost her temper .  She broke into a torrent of angry arguments and reproaches , mainly turning , it seemed , upon a recent visit to the house of Isaac 'seldest son .  The drunken ne'er-do-weel had given Bessie much to put up with .  Oh yes !  — she was to be plagued out of her life by Isaac 'sbelongings , and he would n't do a pin 'sworth for her .  Just let him see next time , that was all .  Isaac smoked vigorously through it all .  But she was hammering on a sore point .  “ Oh , it 'sjust like yer !  ” Bessie flung at him at last in desperation .  “ You 'reallus the same — a mean-spirited feller , stannin 'in your children 'sway !  ' Ow do you know who old John 'sgoing to leave his money to ?  ' Ow do you know as he would n't leave it to them poor innercents ” — she waved her hand tragically towards the children playing in the road — “ if we was just a bit nice and friendly with him now ' ee 'sgettin 'old ?  But you do n't care , not you !  — one 'ud think yer were made o 'money — an 'that little one there not got the right use of his legs !  ”  She pointed , half crying , to the second boy , who had already shown signs of hip disease .  Isaac still smoked , but he was troubled in his mind .  A vague presentiment held him , but the pressure brought to bear upon him was strong .  “ I tell yer the lock is n't a good ' un !  ” he said , suddenly removing his pipe .  Bessie stopped instantly in the middle of another tirade .  She was leaning against the door , arms akimbo , eyes alternately wet and flaming .  “ Then , if it is n't , ” she said , with a triumphant change of tone , “ I 'llsoon get Flack to see to it — it 'snobbut a step .  I 'llrun up after supper .  ”  Flack was the village carpenter .  “ An ' there 'smother 'sold box as takes up the cupboard , ” continued Isaac gruffly .  Bessie burst out laughing .  “ Oh !  yer old silly , ” she said .  “ As if they could n't stand one top o ' the t'other .  Now , do just go , Isaac — there 'sa lovey !  ' Ee 'swaitin ' for yer .  Whatever did make yer so contrairy ?  Of course I did n't mean nothin ' I said — an ' I do n't mind Timothy , nor nothin '.  ”  Still he did not move .  “ Then I s'pose yer want everybody in the village to know ?  ” he said with sarcasm .  Bessie was taken aback .  “ No — I — do n't — ” she said undecidedly — “ I do n't know what yer mean .  ”  “ You go back and tell John as I 'llcome when it 'sdark , an ', if he 'snot a stupid , he wo n't want me to come afore .  ”  Bessie understood and acquiesced .  She ran back with her message to John .  At half-past eight , when it had grown almost dark , Isaac descended the hill .  John opened the door to his knock .  “ Good evenin ', Isaac .  Yer 'lltake it , will yer ?  ”  “ If you ca n't do nothin 'better with it , ” said Isaac , unwillingly .  “ But in gineral I 'mnot partial on keeping other folk 'smoney .  ”  John liked him all the better for his reluctance .  “ It 'llgive yer no trouble , ” he said .  “ You lock it up , an ' it ' ll be all safe .  Now , will yer lend a hand ?  ”  Isaac stepped to the door , looked up the lane , and saw that all was quiet .  Then he came back , and the two men raised the box .  As they crossed the threshold , however , the door of the next cottage — which belonged to Watson , the policeman — opened suddenly .  John , in his excitement , was so startled that he almost dropped his end of the box .  “ Why , Bolderfield , ” said Watson 'scheery voice , “ what have you got there ?  Do you want a hand ?  ”  “ No , I do n't — thank yer kindly , ” said John in agitation .  “ An ', if you please , Muster Watson , do n't yer say nothin ' to nobody .  ”  The burly policeman looked from John to Isaac , then at the box .  John 'shoard was notorious , and the officer of the law understood .  “ Lor 'bless yer , ” he said , with a laugh , “ I 'msafe .  Well , good evenin ' to yer , if I ca n't be of any assistance .  ”  And he went off on his beat .  The two men carried the box up the hill .  It was in itself a heavy , old-fashioned affair , strengthened and bottomed with iron .  Isaac wondered whether the weight of it were due more to the box or to the money .  But he said nothing .  He had no idea how much John might have saved , and would not have asked him the direct question for the world .  John 'sown way of talking about his wealth was curiously contradictory .  His “ money ” was rarely out of his thoughts or speech , but no one had ever been priviledged for many years now to see the inside of his box , except Eliza once ; and no one but himself knew the exact amount of the hoard .  It delighted him that the village gossips should double or treble it .  Their estimates only gave him the more ground for vague boasting , and he would not have said a word to put them right .  When they reached the Costrells 'cottage , John 'sfirst care was to examine the cupboard .  He saw that the large wooden chest filled with odds and ends of rubbish which already stood there was placed on the top of his own box .  Then he tried the lock , and pronounced it adequate ; he did n't want to have Flack meddling round .  Now at the moment of parting with his treasure he was seized with a sudden fever of secrecy .  Bessie meanwhile hovered about the two men , full of excitement and loquacity .  And the children , shut into the kitchen , wondered what could be the matter .  When all was done , Isaac locked the cupboard , and solemnly presented the key to John , who added it to the other round his neck .  Then Bessie unlocked the kitchen , and set the children flying , to help her with the supper .  She was in her most bustling and vivacious mood , and she had never cooked the bloaters better or provided a more ample jug of beer .  But John was silent and depressed .  He took leave at last with many sighs and lingerings .  But he had not been gone half an hour , and Bessie and Isaac were just going to bed , when there was a knock at the door , and he reappeared .  “ Let me lie down there , ” he said , pointing to a broken-down old sofa that ran under the window .  “ I 'mlonesome somehow , an ' I 'vetold Louisa .  ” His white hair and whiskers stood out wildly round his red face .  He looked old and ill , and the sympathetic Bessie was sorry for him .  She made him a bed on the sofa , and he lay there all night , restless , and sighing heavily .  He missed Eliza more than he had done yet , and was oppressed with a vague sense of unhappiness .  Once , in the middle of the night when all was still , he stole upstairs in his stockinged feet and gently tried the cupboard door .  It was quite safe , and he went down contented .  An hour or two later he was off , trudging to Frampton through the August dawn , with his bundle on his back .  SCENE III  SOME five months passed away .  One January night the Independent minister of Clinton Magna was passing down the village street .  Clinton lay robed in light snow , and “ sparkling to the moon .  ” The frozen pond beside the green , though it was nearly eight o'clock , was still alive with children , sliding and shouting .  All around the gabled roofs stood laden and spotless .  The woods behind the village , and those running along the top of the snowy hill , were meshed in a silvery mist which died into the moonlit blue , while in the fields the sharpness of the shadows thrown by the scattered trees made a marvel of black and white .  The minister , in spite of a fighting creed , possessed a measure of gentler susceptibilities , and the beauty of this basin in the chalk hills , this winter triumphant , these lights of home and fellowship in the cottage windows disputing with the forlornness of the snow , crept into his soul .  His mind travelled from the physical purity and hardness before him to the purity and hardness of the inner life — the purity that Christ blessed , the “ hardness ” that the Christian endures .  And such thoughts brought him pleasure as he walked — the mystic 'spleasure .  Suddenly he saw a woman cross the snowy green in front of him .  She had come from the road leading to the hill , and her pace was hurried .  Her shawl was muffled round her head , but he recognized her , and his mood fell .  She was the wife of Isaac Costrell , and she was hurrying to the Spotted Deer , a public-house which lay just beyond the village , on the road to the mill .  Already several times that week had he seen her going in or coming out .  Talk had begun to reach him , and he said to himself to-night as he saw her , — that Isaac Costrell 'swife was going to ruin .  The thought oppressed him , pricked his pastoral conscience .  Isaac was his right-hand man : dull to all the rest of the world , but not dull to the minister .  With Mr. Drew sometimes he would break into talk of religion , and the man 'sdark eyes would lose their film .  His big troubled self spoke with that accent of truth which lifts common talk and halting texts to poetry .  The minister , himself more of a pessimist than his sermons showed , felt a deep regard for him .  Could nothing be done to save Isaac 'swife and Isaac ?  Not so long ago Bessie Costrell had been a decent woman , though a flighty and excitable one .  Now some cause , unknown to the minister , had upset a wavering balance , and was undoing a life .  As he passed the public-house a man came out , and through the open door Mr. Drew caught a momentary glimpse of the bar and the drinkers .  Bessie 'shandsome , reckless head stood out an instant in the bright light .  Then Drew saw that the man who had emerged was Watson the policeman .  They greeted each other cordially and walked on together .  Watson also was a member of the minister 'sflock .  Mr. Drew felt suddenly moved to unburden himself .  “ That was Costrell 'swife , Watson , was n't it , poor thing ?  ”  “ Aye , it wor Mrs. Costrell , ” said Watson in the tone of concern natural to the respectable husband and father .  The minister sighed .  “ It 'sterrible the way she 'sgone downhill the last three months .  I never pass almost but I see her going in there or coming out .  ”  “ No , ” said Watson , slowly , “ no , it 'sbad .  What I 'dlike to know , ” he added reflectively , “ is where she gets the money from .  ”  “ Oh , she had a legacy , had n't she , in August ?  It seems to have been a curse .  She has been a changed woman ever since .  ”  “ Yes , she had a legacy , ” said Watson , dubiously ; “ but I do n't believe it was much .  She talked big , of course , and made a lot o 'fuss — she 'sthat kind o 'woman — just as she did about old John 'smoney .  ”  “ Old John 'smoney ?  — Ah !  did any one ever know what became of that ?  ”  “ Well , there 'smany people thinks as Isaac has got it hid in the house somewhere , and there 'sothers thinks he 'sput it in Bedford bank .  Edwards told me private he did n't know nothing about it at the post-office , an ' Bessie told my wife as John had given Isaac the keepin ' of it till he come back again ; but he 'dknock her about , she said , if she let on what he 'ddone with it .  That 'sthe story she 'sallus had , and boastin ', of course , dreadful , about John 'strustin 'them , and Isaac doin ' all his business for him .  ”  The minister reflected .  — “ And you say the legacy was n't much ?  ”  “ Well , sir , I know some people over at Bedford where her aunt lived as left it her , and they were sure it was n't a great deal ; but you never know .  ”  “ And Isaac never said ?  ”  “ Bless yer , no , sir !  He was never a great one for talking , was n't Isaac ; but you 'dthink now as he 'dnever learnt how .  He 'llset there in the Club of a night and never open his mouth to nobody .  ”  “ Perhaps he 'sfretting about his wife , Watson ?  ”  “ Well , I do n't believe as he knows much about her goin's-on — not all , leastways .  I 'veseen her wait till he was at his work or gone to the Club , and then run down the hill , — tearin '— with her hair flyin ' — you 'dthink she 'dgone silly .  Oh , it 'sa bad business , ” said Watson , strongly , “ an ' uncommon bad business — all them young children too .  ”  “ I never saw her drunk , Watson .  ”  “ No — yer would n't .  Nor I neither .  But she 'lltreat half the parish if she gets the chance .  I know many young fellers as go to the Spotted Deer just because they know she 'lltreat ' em .  She 'sa-doin 'of it now — there 'slots of ' em .  And allus changin 'such a queer lot of money too — odd half-crowns , — years and years old — King George the Third , sir .  No — it 'sstrange — very strange .  ”  The two walked on into the darkness , still talking .  Meanwhile , inside the Spotted Deer Bessie Costrell was treating her hangers-on .  She had drunk one glass of gin and water — it had made a beauty of her in the judgment of the tap-room , such a kindling had it given to her brown eyes and such a redness to her cheek .  Bessie , in truth , had reached her moment of physical prime .  The marvel was that there were no lovers in addition to the drinking and the extravagance .  But the worst of the village scandalmongers knew of none .  Since this new phase of character in her had developed , she would drink and make merry with any young fellow in the place , but it went no farther .  She was bonne camarade with all the world — no more .  Perhaps at bottom some coolness of temperament protected her ; nobody , at any rate , suspected that it had anything to do with Isaac , or that she cared a ha'porth for so lugubrious and hypocritical a husband .  She had showered drinks on all her friends , and had , moreover , chattered and screamed herself hoarse , when the church-clock outside slowly struck eight .  She started , changed countenance , and got up to pay at once .  “ Why , there 'sanother o ' them half-crowns o 'yourn , Bessie , ” said a consumptive-looking girl in a bedraggled hat and feathers , as Mrs. Costrell handed her coin to the landlord .  “ Wheriver do yer get ' em ?  ”  “ If yer do n't ask no questions , I wo n't tell yer no lies , ” said Bessie , with quick impudence .  “ Where did you get them hat and feathers ?  ”  There was a coarse laugh from the company .  The girl in the hat reddened furiously , and she and Bessie — both of them in a quarrelsome state — began to bandy words .  Meanwhile the landlord was showing the coin to his assistant at the bar .  “ Rum , ai n't it ?  I niver seed one o ' them pieces in the village afore this winter , an ' I 'vebeen ' ere twenty-two year come April .  ”  A decent-looking labourer , who did not often visit the Spotted Deer , was leaning over the bar and caught the words .  “ Well , then , I 'ave , ” he said promptly .  “ I mind well as when I were a lad , sixteen year ago , my fayther borrered a bit o 'money off John Bolderfield , to buy a cow with — an ' there was 'arf of it in them 'arf-crowns .  ”  Those standing near overheard .  Bessie and the girl stopped quarrelling .  The landlord , startled , cast a sly eye in Bessie 'sdirection .  She came up to the bar .  “ What 'sthat yer sayin '?  ” she demanded .  The man repeated his remark .  “ Well , I dessay there was , ” said Bessie — “ I dessay there was .  I s'pose there 'splenty of ' em .  Where do I get ' em ?  — why , I get ' em at Bedford , of course , when I goes for my money .  ”  She looked round defiantly .  No one said anything ; but everybody instinctively suspected a lie .  The sudden silence was striking .  “ Well , give me my change , will yer ?  ” she said impatiently to the landlord .  “ I ca n't stan 'here all night .  ”  He gave it to her , and she went out showering reckless good-nights , to which there was little response .  The door had no sooner closed upon her than every one in the tap-room pressed round the bar in a close gathering of heads and tongues .  Bessie ran across the green and began to climb the hill at a rapid pace .  Her thin woollen shawl blown back by the wind left her arms and bosom exposed .  But the effects of the spirit in her veins prevented any sense of cold , though it was a bitter night .  Once or twice , as she toiled up the hill , she gave a loud sudden sob .  “ Oh my God !  ” she said to herself .  “ My God !  ”  When she was half-way up she met a neighbour .  “ Have yer seen Isaac ?  ” Bessie asked her , panting .  “ ' Ee 'sat the Club , ar n't ' ee ?  ” said the woman .  “ Well , they wo n't be up yet .  Jim tolt me as Muster Perris ” — Muster Perris was the vicar of Clinton Magna — “ 'ad got a strange gen'leman stayin ' with ' im , and was goin ' to take him into the Club to-night to speak to ' em .  ' Ee 'sa bishop , they ses — someun from furrin parts .  ”  Bessie threw her good-night and climbed on .  When she reached the cottage the lamp was flaming on the table and the fire was bright .  Her lame boy had done all she had told him , and her miserable heart softened .  She hurriedly put out some food for Isaac .  Then she lit a candle and went up to look at the children .  They were all asleep in the room to the right of the stairs — the two little boys in one bed , the two little girls in the other , each pair huddled together against the cold , like dormice in a nest .  Then she looked , conscience-stricken , at the untidiness of the room .  She had bought the children a wonderful number of new clothes lately , and the family being quite unused to such abundance , there was no place to keep them in .  A new frock was flung down in a corner just as it had been taken off ; the kitten was sleeping on Arthur 'slast new jacket ; a smart hat with a bunch of poppies in it was lying about the floor ; and under the iron beds could be seen a confusion of dusty boots , new and old .  The children were naturally reckless like their mother , and they had been getting used to new things .  What excited them now , more than the acquisitions themselves , was that their mother had strictly forbidden them ever to show any of their new clothes to their father .  If they did , she would beat them well , she said .  That they understood ; and life was thereby enriched , not only by new clothes but by a number of new emotions and terrors .  If Bessie noted the state of the room , she made no attempt to mend it .  She smoothed back the hair from the boys 'foreheads with a violent , shaky hand , and kissed them all , especially Arthur .  Then she went out and closed the door behind her .  Outside she stood a moment on the tiny landing — listening .  Not a sound ; but the cottage walls were thin .  If any one came along the lane with heavy boots she must hear them .  Very like he would be half an hour yet .  She ran down the stairs and shut the door at the bottom of them , opening into the kitchen .  It had no key or she would have locked it ; and in her agitation , her state of clouded brain , she forgot the outer door altogether .  Hurrying up again , she sat down on the topmost step , putting her candle on the boards beside her .  The cupboard at the stair-head where John had left his money was close to her left hand .  As she sank into the attitude of rest , her first instinct was to cry and bemoan herself .  Deep in her woman 'sbeing great floods of tears were rising , and would fain have spent themselves .  But she fought them down , rapidly passing instead into a state of cold terror — terror of Isaac 'sstep — terror of discovery — of the man in the public-house .  There was a mousehole in the skirting of the stairs close to the cupboard .  She slipped in a finger , felt along an empty space behind , and drew out a key .  It turned easily in the cupboard lock , and the two boxes stood revealed , standing apparently just as they stood when John left them .  In hot haste Bessie dragged the treasure-box from under the other , starting at every sound in the process , at the thud the old wooden trunk made on the floor of the cupboard as its supporter was withdrawn , at the rustle of her own dress .  All the boldness she had shown at the Spotted Deer had vanished .  She was now the mere trembling and guilty woman .  The lock on Bolderfield 'sbox had been forced long before ; it opened to her hand .  A heap of sovereigns and half-sovereigns lay on one side , divided by a wooden partition from the few silver coins , crowns and half-crowns , still lying on the other .  She counted both the gold and silver , losing her reckoning again and again , because of the sudden anguish of listening that would overtake her .  Thirty-six pounds on the one side , not much more than thirty shillings on the other .  When John left it there had been fifty-one pounds in gold , and rather more than twenty pounds in silver , most of it in half-crowns .  Ah !  she knew the figures well .  Did that man who had spoken to the landlord in the public-house suspect ?  How strange they had all looked !  What a silly fool she had been to change so much of the silver , instead of sticking to the gold !  Yet she had thought the gold would be noticed more .  When was old John coming back ?  He had written once from Frampton to say that he was “ laid up bad with the rheumatics , ” and was probably going into the Frampton Infirmary .  That was in November .  Since then nothing had been heard of him .  John was no scholar .  What if he died without coming back ?  There would be no trouble then , except — except with Isaac .  Her mind suddenly filled with wild visions , — of herself marched through the village by Watson , as she had once seen him march a poacher who had mauled one of Mr. Forrest 'skeepers — of the towering walls of Frampton jail — of a visible physical shame which would kill her — drive her mad .  If , indeed , Isaac did not kill her before any one but he knew !  He had been that cross and glum all these last weeks — never a bit of talk hardly — always snapping at her and the children .  Yet he had never said a word to her about the drink — nor about the things she had bought .  As to the “ things ” and the bills , she believed that he knew nothing — had noticed nothing .  At home he was always smoking , sitting silent , with dim eyes , like a man in a dream — or reading his father 'sold books , “ good books , ” which filled Bessie with a sense of dreariness unspeakable — or pondering his weekly paper .  But she believed he had begun to notice the drink .  Drinking was universal in Clinton , though there was not much drunkenness .  Teetotalers were unknown , and Isaac himself drank his beer freely , and a glass of spirits , like anybody else on occasion .  She had been used for years to fetch his beer from the public , and she had been careful .  But there were signs —  Oh !  if she could only think of some way of putting it back — this thirty odd pounds .  She held her head between her hands , thinking and thinking .  Could n't that little lawyer man to whom she went every month at Bedford , to fetch her legacy money — could n't he lend it her , and keep her money till it was paid ?  She could make up a story , and give him something for himself to induce him to hold his tongue .  She had thought of this often before , but never so urgently as now .  She would take the carrier 'scart to Bedford next day , while Isaac was at work , and try .  Yet all the time despair was at her heart .  So hard to undo !  Yet how easy it had been to take and to spend .  She thought of that day in September , when she had got the news of her legacy — six shillings a week from an old aunt — her fathers aunt , whose very existence she had forgotten .  The wild delight of it !  Isaac got sixteen shillings a week in wages — here was nearly half as much again .  She was warned that it would come to an end in two years .  But none the less it seemed to her a fortune — and all her life , before it came , mere hard pinching and endurance .  She had always been one to spend where she could .  Old John had often rated her for it .  So had Isaac .  But that was his money .  This was hers , and he who , for religious reasons , had never made friends with or thought well of any of her family , instinctively disliked the money which had come from them , and made few inquiries into the spending of it .  Oh !  the joy of those first visits to Frampton , when all the shops had seemed to be there for her , and she their natural mistress !  How ready people had been to trust her in the village !  How tempting it had been to brag and make a mystery !  That old skinflint , Mrs. Moulsey , at “ the shop , ” she had been all sugar and sweets then .  And a few weeks later — six , seven weeks later — about the beginning of October , these halcyon days had all come to an end .  She owed what she could not pay — people had ceased to smile upon her — she was harassed , excited , worried out of her life .  Old familiar wonder of such a temperament !  How can it be so easy to spend , so delightful to promise , and so unreasonably , so unjustly difficult , to pay ?  She began to be mortally afraid of Isaac — of the effect of disclosures .  One night she was alone in the cottage , almost beside herself under the pressure of one or two claims she could not meet — one claim especially , that of a little jeweller , from whom she had bought a gold ring and a brooch at Frampton — when the thought of John 'shoard swept upon her — clutched her like something living and tyrannical , not to be shaken off .  It struck her all in an instant that there was another cupboard in the little parlour , exactly like that on the stairs .  The lower cupboard had a key — what if it fitted ?  The Devil must have been eager and active that night , for the key turned in the lock with a smoothness that made honesty impossible — almost foolish .  And the old , weak lock on the box itself — why , a chisel had soon made an end of that !  Only five minutes — it had been so quick — there had been no trouble .  God had made no sign at all .  Since !  All the village smiles — the village flatteries recovered — an orgie of power and pleasure — new passions and excitements — above all , the rising passion of drink , sweeping in storms through a weak nature that alternately opened to them and shuddered at them .  And through everything the steadily dribbling away of the hoard — the astonishing ease and rapidity with which the coins — gold or silver — had flowed through her hands !  How could one spend so much in meat and dress , in beer and gin , in giving other people beer and gin ?  How was it possible ?  She sat lost in miserable thoughts , a mist around her ... .  “ Wal , I niver !  ” said a low , astonished voice at the foot of the stairs .  Bessie rose to her feet with a shriek , the heart stopping in her breast .  The door below was ajar , and through the opening peered a face — the vicious , drunken face of her husband 'seldest son , Timothy Costrell .  The man below cast one more look of amazement at the woman standing on the top stair , at the candle behind her , at the open box .  Then an idea struck him : he sprang up the stairs at a bound .  “ By gosh !  ” he said , looking down at the gold and silver .  “ By gosh ! ”  Bessie tried to thrust him back .  “ What are you here for ?  ” she asked fiercely , her trembling lips the colour of the whitewashed wall behind .  “ You get off at onst , or I 'llcall yer father .  ”  He pushed her contemptuously aside .  The swish of her dress caught the candle , and by good fortune put it out , or she would have been in a blaze .  Now there was only the light from the paraffin lamp in the kitchen below striking upwards through the open door .  She fell against the doorway of her bedroom , panting and breathless , watching him .  He seated himself in her place , and stooped to look at the box .  On the inside of the lid was pasted a discoloured piece of paper , and on the paper was written , in a round , laborious hand , the name , “ John Bolderfield .  ”  “ My blazes !  ” he said slowly , his bloodshot eyes opening wider than ever .  “ It 'sold John 'smoney !  So yo 'vebeen after it , eh ?  ”  He turned to her with a grin , one hand on the box .  He had been tramping for more than three months , during which time they had heard nothing of him .  His filthy clothes scarcely hung together .  His cheeks were hollow and wolfish .  From the whole man there rose a sort of exhalation of vice .  Bessie had seen him drunken and out at elbows before , but never so much of the beast as this .  However , by this time she had somewhat recovered herself , and , approaching him , she stooped and tried to shut the box .  “ You take yourself off , ” she said , desperately , pushing him with her fist .  “ That money 'sno business o 'yourn .  It 'sJohn 's, an ' he 'scomin ' back directly .  He gave it us to look after , an ' I wor countin 'it .  March !  — there 'syour father comin ' !  ”  And with all her force she endeavoured to wrench his hand away .  He tore it from her , and hit out at her backwards — a blow that sent her reeling against the wall .  “ Yo take yer meddlin 'fist out o 'that !  ” he said .  “ Father ai n't coming , and if he wor , I ' spect I could manage the two on yer — Keowntin it — ” he mimicked her .  “ Oh !  yer a precious innercent , ai n't yer ?  But I know all about yer .  Bless yer , I 'vebeen in at the Spotted Deer to-night , and there wor n't nothin 'else talked of but yo and yor goin 'son .  There wo n't be a tongue in the place to-morrow that wo n't be a-waggin 'about yer — yur a public charickter , yo are — they 'llbe sendin 'the reporters down on yer for a hinterview .  ‘Where the devil do she get the money ?  ’ they says .  ”  He threw his curly head back and laughed till his sides shook .  “ Lor , I did n't think I wor going to know quite so soon !  An ' sich queer 'arf-crowns , they ses , as she keeps a-changin '.  Jarge somethin '— an old cove in a wig .  An ' ' ere they is , I 'llbe blowed , — some on ' em .  Well , yer a nice ' un , yer are !  ”  He stared her up and down with a kind of admiration .  Bessie began to cry feebly — the crying of a lost soul .  “ Tim , if yer 'llgo away an ' hold yer tongue , I 'llgive yer five o ' them suverins , and not tell yer father nothin '.  ”  “ Five on ' em ?  ” he said , grinning .  “ Five on ' em , eh ?  ”  And dipping his hands into the box , he began deliberately shovelling the whole hoard into his trousers and waistcoat pockets .  Bessie flung herself upon him .  He gave her one business-like blow which knocked her down against the bedroom door .  The door yielded to her fall , and she lay there half stunned , the blood dripping from her temple .  “ Noa , I 'llnot take ' em all , ” he said , not even troubling to look where she had fallen .  “ That 'ud be playing it rayther too low down on old John .  I 'llleave ' im two — jest two — for luck .  ”  He buttoned up his coat tightly , then turned to throw a last glance at Bessie .  He had always disliked his father 'ssecond wife , and his sense of triumph was boundless .  “ Oh !  yer not hurt , ” he said ; “ yer shammin .  I advise yer to look sharp with shuttin 'up .  Father 'llbe up the hill in two or three minutes now .  Sorry I ca n't ' elp yer , now yer 'veset me up so comfortabul .  Bye-bye !  ”  He ran down the stairs .  She , as her senses revived , heard him open the back-door , cross the little garden , and jump the hedge at the end of it .  Then she lay absolutely motionless , till suddenly there struck on her ear the distant sound of heavy steps .  They roused her like a goad .  She dragged herself to her feet , shut the box , had just time to throw it into the cupboard and lock the door , when she heard her husband walk into the kitchen .  She crept into her own room , threw herself on the bed , and wrapped her head and eyes in an old shawl , shivering so that the mattresses shook .  “ Bessie , where are yer ?  ”  She did not answer .  He made a sound of astonishment , and , finding , no candle , took the lamp and mounted the stairs .  They were covered with traces of muddy snow , and at the top he stooped to examine a spot upon the boards .  It was blood ; and his heart thumped in his breast .  “ Bessie , whatever is the matter ?  ”  For by this time he had perceived her on the bed .  He put down the lamp and came to the bedside to look at her .  “ I 've' ad a fall , ” she said , faintly .  “ I tripped up over my skirt as I wor comin ' up to look at Arthur .  My head 'sall bleedin '.  Get me some water from over there .  ”  His countenance fell sadly .  But he got the water , exclaiming when he saw the wound .  He bathed it clumsily , then tied a bit of rag round it , and made her head easy with the pillow .  She did not speak , and he sat on beside her , looking at her pale face , and torn , as the silent minutes passed , between conflicting impulses .  He had just passed an hour listening to a good man 'splain narrative of a life spent for Christ , amid fever-swamps , and human beings more deadly still .  The vicar 'sfriend was a missionary bishop , and a High Churchman ; Isaac , as a staunch Dissenter by conviction and inheritance , thought ill both of bishops and Ritualists .  Nevertheless he had been touched ; he had been fired .  Deep , though often perplexed instincts in his own heart had responded to the spiritual passion of the speaker .  The religious atmosphere had stolen ahout him , melting and subduing .  And the first effect of it had been to quicken suddenly his domestic conscience ; to make him think painfully of Bessie and the children as he climbed the hill .  Was his wife going the way of his son ?  And he , sitting day after day like a dumb dog , instead of striving with her !  He made up his mind hurriedly .  “ Bessie , ” he said , stooping to her and speaking in a strange voice , “ Bessie , had yer been to Dawson 's?  ”  Dawson was the landlord of the Spotted Deer .  Bessie was long in answering .  At last she said , almost inaudibly —  “ Yes .  ”  She fully understood what he had meant by the question , and she wondered whether he would fall into one of his rages , and beat her .  Instead , his hand sought clumsily for hers .  “ Bessie , yer should n't ; yer must n't do it no more ; it 'llmake a bad woman of yer .  I know as I 'mnot good to live with ; I do n't make things pleasant to yer ; but I 'vebeen thinkin '; I 'lltry if yo 'lltry .  ”  Bessie burst into tears .  It seemed as though her life were breaking within her .  Never since their early married days had he spoken to her like this .  And she was in such piteous need of comfort ; of some strong hand to help her out of the black pit in which she lay .  The wild impulse crossed her to sit up and tell him — to throw it all on Timothy , to show him the cupboard and the box .  Should she tell him ; brave it all now that he was like this ?  Between them they might find a way — make it good .  Then the thought of the man in the public-house , of the half-crowns , a host of confused and guilty memories , swept upon her .  How could she ever get herself out of it ?  Her heart beat so that it seemed a live creature strangling and silencing her .  She was still fighting with her tears and her terror when she heard Isaac say —  “ I know yer 'lltry , and I 'llhelp yer .  I 'llbe a better husband to yer , I swear I will .  Give us a kiss , old woman .  ”  She turned her face , sobbing , and he kissed her cheek .  Then she heard him say in another tone —  “ An ' I got a bit o 'news down at the Club as will liven yer up .  Parkinson was there ; just come over from Frampton to see his mother ; an ' he says John will be here to-morrer or next day .  ' Ee seed him yesterday — pulled down dreadful — quite the old man , ' ee says .  An ' John told him as he was comin ' 'ome directly to live comfortable .  ”  Bessie drew her shawl over her head .  “ To-morrer , did yer say ?  ” she asked in a whisper .  “ Mos ' like .  Now you go to sleep ; I 'llput out the lamp .  ”  But all night long Bessie lay wide awake in torment , her soul hardening within her , little by little .  SCENE IV  JUST before dark on the following day , a man descended from a down train at the Clinton Magna station .  The porters knew him and greeted him ; so did one or two labourers outside , as he set off to walk to the village , which was about a mile distant .  “ Well , John , so yer coom back , ” said one of them , an old man , grasping the newcomer by the hand .  “ An ' I ca n't say as yer looks is any credit to Frampton — no , that aa ca n't .  ”  John , indeed , wore a sallow and pinched air , and walked lamely , with a stick .  “ Noa , ” he said peevishly ; “ it 'sa beastly place is Frampton ; a damp , nassty hole as iver I saw — gives yer the rheumaticks to look at it .  I 've' ad a doose of a time , I 'ave , I can tell yer — iver sense I went .  But I 'llpull up now .  ”  “ Aye , this air 'lldo yer , ” said the other .  “ Where are yer stoppin '?  Costrells '?  ”  John nodded .  “ They do n't know nothin ' about my cousin , but I dessay they 'llfind me somethin ' to sleep on .  I 'll' ave my own place soon , and some one to look arter it .  ”  He drew himself up involuntarily , with the dignity that waits on property .  A laugh , rather jeering than cordial , ran through the group of labourers .  “ Aye , yer 'llbe livin 'at your ease , ” said the man who had spoken first .  “ When will yo 'give us a drink , yer lardship ?  ”  The others grinned .  “ Where 'syour money , John ?  ” said a younger man suddenly , staring hard at the returned wanderer .  John started .  “ Do n't you talk your nonsense !  ” he said fretfully ; “ an ' I must be getting on , afore dark .  ”  He went his way , but as he turned a corner of the road , he saw them still standing where he had left them .  They seemed to be watching his progress , which astonished him .  A light of windy sunset lay spread over the white valley , and the freshening gusts drove the powdery snow before them , and sent little stabs of pain through John 'sshrinking body .  Yet how glad he was to find himself again between those familiar hedges , to see the church-tower in front of him , the long hill to his right !  His heart swelled at once with longing and satisfaction .  During his Frampton job , and in the infirmary , he had suffered much , physically and mentally .  He had missed Eliza and the tendance of years more than he had ever imagined he could ; and he had found himself too old for new faces and a new society .  When he fell ill he had been sorely tempted to send for some of his money , and get himself nursed and cared for at the respectable lodging where he had put up .  But no ; in the end he set his teeth and went into the infirmary .  He had planned not to touch his hoard till he had done with the Frampton job , and returned to Clinton for good .  His peasant obstinacy could not endure to be beaten ; nor , indeed , could he bring himself to part with his keys , to trust the opening of the hoard even to Isaac .  Since then he had passed through many weary weeks , sometimes of acute pain , sometimes of sinking weakness , during which he had been haunted by many secret torments , springing mainly from the fear of death .  He had almost been driven to make his will .  But in the end superstitious reluctance prevailed .  He had not made his will ; and to dwell on the fact gave him the sensation of having escaped a bond , if not a danger .  He did not want to leave his money behind him ; he wanted to spend it , as he had told Eliza and Mary Anne and Bessie scores of times .  To have assigned it to any one else , even after his death , would have made it less his own .  Ah , well !  those bad weeks were done , and here he was , at home again .  Suddenly , as he tramped on , he caught sight against the hill of Bessie 'scottage , the blue smoke from it blown across the rime-laden trees behind it .  He drew in his breath with a deep , tremulous delight .  That buoyant self-congratulation indeed which had stood between him and the pain of Eliza 'sdeath was gone .  Rather there was in him a profound yearning for rest , for long dreaming by the fire or in the sun , with his pipe to smoke , and Jim 'sLouisa to look after him , and nothing to do but to draw a half-crown from his box when he wanted it .  No more hard work in rain and cold ; and no cringing , either , to the young and prosperous for the mere fault of age .  The snowy valley with its circling woods opened to him like a mother 'sbreast ; the sight of it filled him with a hundred simple hopes and consolations ; he hurried to bury himself in it , and be at peace .  He was within a hundred yards of the first house in the village , when he saw a tall figure in uniform approaching , and recognized Watson .  At sight of him the policeman stopped short , and John was conscious of a moment 'svague impression of something strange in Watson 'slooks .  However , Watson shook hands with great friendliness .  “ Well , I 'mglad to see yer , John , I 'msure .  An ' now , I spose , you 'reback for good ?  ”  “ Aye .  I 'mnot going away no more .  I 'vedone my share — I wants a bit o 'rest .  ”  “ Of coorse yer do .  You 'vebeen ill , ' ave n't yer ?  You look like it .  An ' yer puttin 'up at Costrells '?  ”  “ Yes , till I can turn round a bit .  ' Ave yer seen anythin 'ov 'em ?  ' Ow 'sBessie ?  ”  Watson faced back towards the village .  “ I 'llwalk with yer a bit — I 'min no 'urry .  Oh , she 'sall right .  You 'eard of her bit o 'money ?