Sylvia's Lovers - Page 182/290

So they sate down again to keep watch. At length his step was heard

close to the door; and it startled them even in their state of

expectation.

'Why, feyther!' cried Sylvia as he entered; while his wife stood up

trembling, but not saying a word.

'A'm a'most done up,' said he, sitting heavily down on the chair

nearest the door.

'Poor old feyther!' said Sylvia, stooping to take off his heavy

clogged shoes; while Bell took the posset out of the oven.

'What's this? posset? what creatures women is for slops,' said he;

but he drank it all the same, while Sylvia fastened the door, and

brought the flaring candle from the window-seat. The fresh

arrangement of light displayed his face blackened with smoke, and

his clothes disarranged and torn.

'Who's been melling wi' thee?' asked Bell.

'No one has melled wi' me; but a've been mellin' wi' t' gang at

last.' 'Thee: they niver were for pressing thee!' exclaimed both the women

at once.

'No! they knowed better. They'n getten their belly-full as it is.

Next time they try it on, a reckon they'll ax if Daniel Robson is

wi'in hearin'. A've led a resky this neet, and saved nine or ten

honest chaps as was pressed, and carried off to t' Randyvowse. Me

and some others did it. And Hobbs' things and t' lieutenant's is a'

burnt; and by this time a reckon t' Randyvowse is pretty nigh four

walls, ready for a parish-pound.' 'Thou'rt niver for saying thou burnt it down wi' t' gang in it, for

sure?' asked Bell.

'Na, na, not this time. T' 'gang fled up t' hill like coneys; and

Hobbs and his folks carried off a bag o' money; but t' oud

tumbledown place is just a heap o' brick and mortar; an' t'

furniture is smoulderin' int' ashes; and, best of a', t' men is

free, and will niver be cotched wi' a fire-bell again.' And so he went on to tell of the ruse by which they had been enticed

into the market-place; interrupted from time to time by their eager

questions, and interrupting himself every now and then with

exclamations of weariness and pain, which made him at last say,-'Now a'm willing to tell yo' a' about it to-morrow, for it's not

ivery day a man can do such great things; but to-neet a mun go to

bed, even if King George were wantin' for to know how a managed it

a'.' He went wearily upstairs, and wife and daughter both strove their

best to ease his aching limbs, and make him comfortable. The

warming-pan, only used on state occasions, was taken down and

unpapered for his service; and as he got between the warm sheets, he

thanked Sylvia and her mother in a sleepy voice, adding,-'It's a vast o' comfort to think on yon poor lads as is sleepin' i'

their own homes this neet,' and then slumber fell upon him, and he

was hardly roused by Bell's softly kissing his weather-beaten cheek,

and saying low,-'God bless thee, my man! Thou was allays for them that was down and

put upon.' He murmured some monosyllabic reply, unheard by his wife, who stole

away to undress herself noiselessly, and laid herself down on her

side of the bed as gently as her stiffened limbs would permit.