England -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Fiction; Working class -- Fiction
"I wouldn't answer for George! He's a steady man, and would do no harm
if he's let alone; but he's a mortal fearsome one! No, John, there's no
help for it, but that you should get over in time to fetch the captain,
and let him take away the ladies, or stand up for them. He'll know what
to be at!"
"But will it get father into trouble?" asked John.
"Not among so many. He's sharp enough. The captain, if he were only at
home, would see how to get them away. Anyway, think of the poor ladies
and the little children!"
John stood for a minute or two by the window thinking, while Judith sat
up in her bed gazing at him with eager, anxious eyes; and at last he
turned back, and would have spoken aloud but that she raised her hand to
caution him. He knelt down again beside her, and said, "No, aunt, I
couldn't rest to think of all those rough brutes of chaps from we don't
know where coming and playing their rigs, and bullying the ladies, with
no one to help. There was a lady frightened to death with them,--master
was reading it out in the paper. Yes, I'll go and fetch the captain
home to take care of them. Where is he?"
"Miss Sophy told me he was at the hotel at Minsterham with a lot of
them. Have you ever been there, Johnnie?"
"Yes. Once I went with master in the cart when he wanted a bit of
mahogany wood for Mrs Goodenough's chairs. It is a long way," said
Johnnie, looking wistfully at the darkening window; "but I'll do it,
please God."
"Yes. Please God, and He will help you. You've had your tea. No!
Well, drink up this,--it is cold enough--and take this hunch of bread.
I am afraid there's nothing better to be had. And here's sixpence, in
case you want a bit of food."
"I've got ninepence of my own," said John, feeling in his pocket; and
though most of his pay went to his mother for his washing and board, he
always kept a little back every week.
"There, then, you'd best be off, my dear lad. Keep out of sight, you
know, as long as you are in the village."
Johnnie bobbed his head; and his aunt threw her arms round his neck, and
kissed him, as she had not done since he was in petticoats; and then she
murmured, "God bless you, my darling lad, and take care of you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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