Sweet Mace: A Sussex Legend of the Iron TimesFenn, George Manville
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Sweet Mace: A Sussex Legend of the Iron Times
Fenn, George Manville
Sussex (England) -- Fiction
"Yes; such folly. Two or three people have sworn to me that they have
heard shrieks."
"Parson," said the founder hoarsely, as he laid his hand on the other's
sleeve; "they are right; I once heard them too."
"What?" said Master Peasegood, laughing, "the owls?"
"Nay, I should know the cry of an owl, man. It is not that. Time after
time I've stood there in the forest, and heard the wild cry just at dark
when everything is still."
"Nay, nay," said Master Peasegood, "the dead don't cry for help, neither
do the angels in heaven; and if there's truth in all we believe, man,
our little Mace's looking down upon us, an angel among God's best and
dearest ones."
The old man's head went down upon his hand at this, and he sat in
silence for some time, while, with his eyes misty and dim, Master
Peasegood leaned back in his chair, and smoked with all his might.
The silence was broken by the founder holding out his hand to his
visitor, and shaking it warmly.
"Thankye, parson, thankye," he said. "What you say ought to be true;
and I hope she forgives me for my vanity and pride."
"Poor child! It was a mistake, Master Cobbe, but let it rest. They say
our gay spark, Sir Mark, is going to comfort himself by wedding Mistress
Anne."
"Ay? Indeed?" said the founder. "I did hear something of the kind, but
I paid little heed."
"I hear it as a fact, Master Cobbe."
"Well, let him," said the founder. "He should be a rich man, too, by
this time, for he has made money from me as well as I have from the
King. Don't talk of it, though; it makes me dwell upon the past."
They smoked on for a time without speaking, and then, with a patient,
piteous aspect in his face, the founder turned to his visitor.
"I've been a wicked man, parson," he said.
"So we all are," said Master Peasegood, bluffly. "I always sinned from
a desire for the good things of this life. I love goodly food, and good
ale, and good tobacco now; and I shall go on sinning to the end," he
added, taking a hearty draught.
"I have been harsh and hard, and I've not done my duty here, Master
Peasegood; and these punishments have come upon me for my sins."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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