So I easily found out how they meant to settle the difficulty;namely,by setting aside a portion of the annual income which John,in his almost morbid anxiety lest his family should take harm by any possible non-success in his business,had settled upon his wife.
Three months of little renunciations--three months of the old narrow way of living,as at Norton Bury--and the poor people at Enderley might have full wages,whether or no there was full work.Then in our quiet valley there would be no want,no murmurings,and,above all,no blaming of the master.
They decided it all--in fewer words than I have taken to write it--it was so easy to decide when both were of one mind.
"Now,"said John,rising,as if a load were taken off his breast--"now,do what he will Lord Luxmore cannot do me any harm.""Husband,don't let us speak of Lord Luxmore."Again that sigh--quite ghostly in the darkness.They heard it likewise this time.
"Who's there?"
"Only I.Mr.Halifax--don't be angry with me."It was the softest,mildest voice--the voice of one long used to oppression;and the young man whom Ursula had supposed to be a Catholic appeared from behind the loom.
"I do not know you,sir.How came you to enter my mill?""I followed Mrs.Halifax.I have often watched her and your children.But you don't remember me."Yes;when he came underneath the light of the one tallow candle,we all recognized the face--more wan than ever--with a sadder and more hopeless look in the large grey eyes.
"I am surprised to see you here,Lord Ravenel.""Hush!I hate the very sound of the name.I would have renounced it long ago.I would have hid myself away from him and from the world,if he would have let me.""He--do you mean your father?"
The boy--no,he was a young man now,but scarcely looked more than a boy--assented silently,as if afraid to utter the name.
"Would not your coming here displease him?"said John,always tenacious of trenching a hair's breadth upon any lawful authority.
"It matters not--he is away.He has left me these six months alone at Luxmore.""Have you offended him?"asked Ursula,who had cast kindly looks on the thin face,which perhaps reminded her of another--now for ever banished from our sight,and his also.
"He hates me because I am a Catholic,and wish to become a monk."The youth crossed himself,then started and looked round,in terror of observers."You will not betray me?You are a good man,Mr.
Halifax,and you spoke warmly for us.Tell me--I will keep your secret--are you a Catholic too?""No,indeed."
"Ah!I hoped you were.But you are sure you will not betray me?"Mr.Halifax smiled at such a possibility.Yet,in truth,there was some reason for the young man's fears;since,even in those days,Catholics were hunted down both by law and by public opinion,as virulently as Protestant nonconformists.All who kept out of the pale of the national church were denounced as schismatics,deists,atheists--it was all one.
"But why do you wish to leave the world?"
"I am sick of it.There never was but one in it I cared for,or who cared for me--and now--Sancta Maria,ora pro nobis."His lips moved in a paroxysm of prayer--helpless,parrot-learnt,Latin prayer;yet,being in earnest,it seemed to do him good.The mother,as if she heard in fancy that pitiful cry,which rose to my memory too--"Poor William!--don't tell William!"--turned and spoke to him kindly,asking him if he would go home with us.
He looked exceedingly surprised."I--you cannot mean it?After Lord Luxmore has done you all this evil?""Is that any reason why I should not do good to his son--that is,if I could?Can I?"The lad lifted up those soft grey eyes,and then I remembered what his sister had said of Lord Ravenel's enthusiastic admiration of Mr.
Halifax."Oh,you could--you could."
"But I and mine are heretics,you know!"