Sylvia's Lovers - Page 210/290

This afternoon she had cried herself to sleep in her chair after

Philip's departure. She had not heard Sylvia's sweeping passage

through the kitchen; but half an hour afterwards she was startled up

by Kester's abrupt entry.

'Where's Sylvie?' asked he.

'I don't know,' said Bell, looking scared, and as if she was ready

to cry. 'It's no news about him?' said she, standing up, and

supporting herself on the stick she was now accustomed to use.

'Bless yo', no, dunnot be afeared, missus; it's only as a spoke

hasty to t' wench, an' a want t' tell her as a'm sorry,' said

Kester, advancing into the kitchen, and looking round for Sylvia.

'Sylvie, Sylvie!' shouted he; 'she mun be i' t' house.' Sylvia came slowly down the stairs, and stood before him. Her face

was pale, her mouth set and determined; the light of her eyes veiled

in gloom. Kester shrank from her look, and even more from her

silence.

'A'm come to ax pardon,' said he, after a little pause.

She was still silent.

'A'm noane above axing pardon, though a'm fifty and more, and thee's

but a silly wench, as a've nursed i' my arms. A'll say before thy

mother as a ought niver to ha' used them words, and as how a'm sorry

for 't.' 'I don't understand it all,' said Bell, in a hurried and perplexed

tone. 'What has Kester been saying, my lass?' she added, turning to

Sylvia.

Sylvia went a step or two nearer to her mother, and took hold of her

hand as if to quieten her; then facing once more round, she said

deliberately to Kester,-'If thou wasn't Kester, I'd niver forgive thee. Niver,' she added,

with bitterness, as the words he had used recurred to her mind.

'It's in me to hate thee now, for saying what thou did; but thou're

dear old Kester after all, and I can't help mysel', I mun needs

forgive thee,' and she went towards him. He took her little head

between his horny hands and kissed it. She looked up with tears in

her eyes, saying softly,-'Niver say things like them again. Niver speak on----' 'A'll bite my tongue off first,' he interrupted.

He kept his word.

In all Philip's comings and goings to and from Haytersbank Farm at

this time, he never spoke again of his love. In look, words, manner,

he was like a thoughtful, tender brother; nothing more. He could be

nothing more in the presence of the great dread which loomed larger

upon him after every conversation with the lawyer.

For Mr. Donkin had been right in his prognostication. Government took

up the attack on the Rendezvous with a high and heavy hand. It was

necessary to assert authority which had been of late too often

braved. An example must be made, to strike dismay into those who

opposed and defied the press-gang; and all the minor authorities who

held their powers from Government were in a similar manner severe

and relentless in the execution of their duty. So the attorney, who

went over to see the prisoner in York Castle, told Philip. He added

that Daniel still retained his pride in his achievement, and could

not be brought to understand the dangerous position in which he was

placed; that when pressed and questioned as to circumstances that

might possibly be used in his defence, he always wandered off to

accounts of previous outrages committed by the press-gang, or to

passionate abuse of the trick by which men had been lured from their

homes on the night in question to assist in putting out an imaginary

fire, and then seized and carried off. Some of this very natural

indignation might possibly have some effect on the jury; and this

seemed the only ground of hope, and was indeed a slight one, as the

judge was likely to warn the jury against allowing their natural

sympathy in such a case to divert their minds from the real

question.