Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction; Smugglers -- Fiction
Bess passed back in her red cloak between the cedars with Mrs. Barbara’s
taunts still sounding in her ears. She felt benumbed at heart, baffled
and very miserable, not knowing whither to turn for shelter now that
Jeffray’s promise could have no fulfilment. Mrs. Gladden’s insolence had
not hurt her so much as the thought of Richard stricken down so suddenly
by this disease. Had but two days passed since he had talked with her in
Holy Cross, and gazed with such earnestness upon her face? As she
crossed the park Bess looked back wistfully at the great house where
Jeffray lay sick of the fever. Her heart waxed very tender towards the
man, despite her wounded pride and Mrs. Barbara’s insolence. If only it
had been her lot to wait on Jeffray and spend her desire in such sweet
service! If he had only fallen sick in Ursula’s cottage and lain there
to be nursed by her as she had tended him that night not long ago! She
felt desperate enough for her own sake as she thought of Dan. Ursula
would have discovered her flight by now, and doubtless the whole hamlet
was as wise as Ursula.
Passing under the yews and out by the lodge gates, she leaned against
the park walls to rest and think. She had little money in her pocket,
and knew next to nothing of the world. Where should she go, and how
should she come by food and shelter? The very thought of returning to
Pevensel was an utter abhorrence to her soul, and now at Rodenham Priory
she could win no welcome. To hide herself from Dan and Isaac, that was
her whole desire. She would beg, slave, feed pigs to escape their
treachery until Jeffray was recovered of his disease.
Much beset by her dreads and her dilemmas, she took the road for
Rodenham village after a last look at the priory half hidden amid its
trees. She felt tired and hungry, having forgotten to take even a loaf
with her in her fever to be gone. Her shoes were dusty, her mouth dry,
for she had not drunk since dawn, when she had taken water in her palms
from a brook that ran through the woods. She would go down to the
village to buy food, despite the danger that the boors might set Dan on
her track if he hunted her by way of Rodenham. Then, with her strength
refreshed, she could trudge on towards Rookhurst, and perhaps find
refuge as a servant in some farm-house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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