Under the StormYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
History
Under the Storm
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
Ben, and a stout piece of woollen stuff for Patience which he said was
such as he was told godly maidens wore, and which possibly the terror of
his steel cap and corslet had cheapened at the mercer's; also he had
a large packet of tractates for Stead's own reading, and he enquired
whether they possessed a Bible.
Stead wondered whether all this was out of regret at the treatment he
had undergone, or whether it was to put him off his guard, and this
occupied him when Jeph began to preach, as he did uninterruptedly for
the last mile, without any of the sense, if there were any, reaching the
mind of the auditor.
They reached the hut, the gifts were displayed; and when the young ones,
who were all a little afraid of the elder brother, had gone off to feast
upon the sweets, Jeph began with enquiries after Steadfast's back, and
he replied that it was mending fast, while Patience exclaimed at the
cruelty and wickedness of so using him.
"Why wouldn't he speak then?" said Jeph. "Yea or nay would have ended it
in a moment, but that's Stead's way. He looks like it now!" and he did,
elbows on knees, and chin on hands.
"Come now, Stead, thou canst speak to me! Was it all because Faithful
hauled thee about?"
"He did, and he had no call to," said Stead, surlily.
"Well, that's true, but I'm not hauling thee. Tell me, Stead, I mind now
that thou wast out with father that last day ere the Parson was taken
to receive his deserts. I don't believe that even thy churlishness
would have stood such blows if thou hadst known naught of the idolatrous
vessels, and couldst have saved thy skin by saying so! No answer. Why,
what have these malignants done for thee that thou shouldst hold by
them? Slain thy father! Burnt thine house! No fault of theirs that thou
art alive this day! Canst not speak?"
Jeph's temper giving way at the provocation, he forgot his conciliatory
intentions and seizing Stead by the collar shook him violently. Growler
almost broke his chain with rage, Patience screamed and flew to the
rescue, just as she had often done when they were all children together,
and Jeph threw his brother from him so that he fell on the root of a
tree, and lay for a moment or two still, then picked himself up again
evidently with pain, though he answered Patience cheerfully that it was
nought.
"Thou art enough to drive a man mad with thy surly silence," exclaimed
Jeph, whom this tussle had rendered much more like his old self, "and
after all, knowing that even though thou art not one of the holy ones,
thou wilt not tell a lie, it comes to the same thing. I know thou
wottest where these things are, and it is only thy sullen scruples that
hinder thee from speaking. Nevertheless, I shall leave no stone unturned
till I find them! For what is written 'Thou shalt break down their
altars.'"
"Jeph," said Stead, firmly. "You left home because of your grief and
rage at father's death. Would you have me break the solemn charge he
laid on me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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