Shirley
tolerable health. Of Caroline he took no manner of notice as she came
near, save to accept what she offered. He did not see her--he never did
see her; he hardly knew that such a person existed. He saw the
macaroons, however, and being fond of sweets, possessed himself of a
small handful thereof. The wine Mrs. Boultby insisted on mingling with
hot water, and qualifying with sugar and nutmeg.
Mr. Hall stood near an open window, breathing the fresh air and scent of
flowers, and talking like a brother to Miss Ainley. To him Caroline
turned her attention with pleasure. "What should she bring him? He must
not help himself--he must be served by her." And she provided herself
with a little salver, that she might offer him variety. Margaret Hall
joined them; so did Miss Keeldar. The four ladies stood round their
favourite pastor. They also had an idea that they looked on the face of
an earthly angel. Cyril Hall was their pope, infallible to them as Dr.
Thomas Boultby to his admirers. A throng, too, enclosed the rector of
Briarfield--twenty or more pressed round him; and no parson was ever
more potent in a circle than old Helstone. The curates, herding together
after their manner, made a constellation of three lesser planets. Divers
young ladies watched them afar off, but ventured not nigh.
Mr. Helstone produced his watch. "Ten minutes to two," he announced
aloud. "Time for all to fall into line. Come." He seized his shovel-hat
and marched away. All rose and followed _en masse_.
The twelve hundred children were drawn up in three bodies of four
hundred souls each; in the rear of each regiment was stationed a band;
between every twenty there was an interval, wherein Helstone posted the
teachers in pairs. To the van of the armies he summoned,--
"Grace Boultby and Mary Sykes lead out Whinbury.
"Margaret Hall and Mary Ann Ainley conduct Nunnely.
"Caroline Helstone and Shirley Keeldar head Briarfield."
Then again he gave command,--
"Mr. Donne to Whinbury; Mr. Sweeting to Nunnely; Mr. Malone to
Briarfield."
And these gentlemen stepped up before the lady-generals.
The rectors passed to the full front; the parish clerks fell to the
extreme rear. Helstone lifted his shovel-hat. In an instant out clashed
the eight bells in the tower, loud swelled the sounding bands, flute
spoke and clarion answered, deep rolled the drums, and away they
marched.
The broad white road unrolled before the long procession, the sun and
sky surveyed it cloudless, the wind tossed the tree boughs above it, and
the twelve hundred children and one hundred and forty adults of which it
was composed trod on in time and tune, with gay faces and glad hearts.
It was a joyous scene, and a scene to do good. It was a day of happiness
for rich and poor--the work, first of God, and then of the clergy. Let
England's priests have their due. They are a faulty set in some
respects, being only of common flesh and blood like us all; but the land
would be badly off without them. Britain would miss her church, if that
church fell. God save it! God also reform it!
CHAPTER XVII.
THE SCHOOL FEAST.
Not on combat bent, nor of foemen in search, was this priest-led and
woman-officered company; yet their music played martial tunes, and, to
judge by the eyes and carriage of some--Miss Keeldar, for
instance--these sounds awoke, if not a martial, yet a longing spirit.
Old Helstone, turning by chance, looked into her face; and he laughed,
and she laughed at him.
"There is no battle in prospect," he said; "our country does not want us
to fight for it. No foe or tyrant is questioning or threatening our
liberty. There is nothing to be done. We are only taking a walk. Keep
your hand on the reins, captain, and slack the fire of that spirit. It
is not wanted, the more's the pity."
"Take your own advice, doctor," was Shirley's response. To Caroline she
murmured, "I'll borrow of imagination what reality will not give me. We
are not soldiers--bloodshed is not my desire--or if we are, we are
soldiers of the Cross. Time has rolled back some hundreds of years, and
we are bound on a pilgrimage to Palestine. But no; that is too
visionary. I need a sterner dream. We are Lowlanders of Scotland,
following a Covenanting captain up into the hills to hold a meeting out
of the reach of persecuting troopers. We know that battle may follow
prayer; and as we believe that in the worst issue of battle heaven must
be our reward, we are ready and willing to redden the peat-moss with our
blood. That music stirs my soul; it wakens all my life; it makes my
heart beat--not with its temperate daily pulse, but with a new,
thrilling vigour. I almost long for danger--for a faith, a land, or at
least a lover to defend."
"Look, Shirley!" interrupted Caroline. "What is that red speck above
Stilbro' Brow? You have keener sight than I. Just turn your eagle eye to
it."
Miss Keeldar looked. "I see," she said; then added presently, "there is
a line of red. They are soldiers--cavalry soldiers," she subjoined
quickly. "They ride fast. There are six of them. They will pass us. No;
they have turned off to the right. They saw our procession, and avoid it
by making a circuit. Where are they going?"
"Perhaps they are only exercising their horses."
"Perhaps so. We see them no more now."
Mr. Helstone here spoke.
"We shall pass through Royd Lane, to reach Nunnely Common by a short
cut," said he.
And into the straits of Royd Lane they accordingly defiled. It was very
narrow--so narrow that only two could walk abreast without falling into
the ditch which ran along each side. They had gained the middle of it,
when excitement became obvious in the clerical commanders. Boultby's
spectacles and Helstone's Rehoboam were agitated; the curates nudged
each other; Mr. Hall turned to the ladies and smiled.
"What is the matter?" was the demand.
He pointed with his staff to the end of the lane before them. Lo and
behold! another, an opposition, procession was there entering, headed
also by men in black, and followed also, as they could now hear, by
music.
"Is it our double?" asked Shirley, "our manifold wraith? Here is a card
turned up."
"If you wanted a battle, you are likely to get one--at least of looks,"
whispered Caroline, laughing.
"They shall not pass us!" cried the curates unanimously; "we'll not give
way!"
"Give way!" retorted Helstone sternly, turning round; "who talks of
giving way? You, boys, mind what you are about. The ladies, I know, will
be firm. I can trust them. There is not a churchwoman here but will
stand her ground against these folks, for the honour of the
Establishment.--What does Miss Keeldar say?"
"She asks what is it."
"The Dissenting and Methodist schools, the Baptists, Independents, and
Wesleyans, joined in unholy alliance, and turning purposely into this
lane with the intention of obstructing our march and driving us back."
"Bad manners!" said Shirley, "and I hate bad manners. Of course, they
must have a lesson."
"A lesson in politeness," suggested Mr. Hall, who was ever for peace;
"not an example of rudeness."
Old Helstone moved on. Quickening his step, he marched some yards in
advance of his company. He had nearly reached the other sable leaders,
when he who appeared to act as the hostile commander-in-chief--a large,
greasy man, with black hair combed flat on his forehead--called a halt.
The procession paused. He drew forth a hymn book, gave out a verse, set
a tune, and they all struck up the most dolorous of canticles.
Helstone signed to his bands. They clashed out with all the power of
brass. He desired them to play "Rule, Britannia!" and ordered the
children to join in vocally, which they did with enthusiastic spirit.
The enemy was sung and stormed down, his psalm quelled. As far as noise
went, he was conquered.
"Now, follow me!" exclaimed Helstone; "not at a run, but at a firm,
smart pace. Be steady, every child and woman of you. Keep together. Hold
on by each other's skirts, if necessary."
And he strode on with such a determined and deliberate gait, and was,
besides, so well seconded by his scholars and teachers, who did exactly
as he told them, neither running nor faltering, but marching with cool,
solid impetus--the curates, too, being compelled to do the same, as they
were between two fires, Helstone and Miss Keeldar, both of whom watched
any deviation with lynx-eyed vigilance, and were ready, the one with his
cane, the other with her parasol, to rebuke the slightest breach of
orders, the least independent or irregular demonstration--that the body
of Dissenters were first amazed, then alarmed, then borne down and
pressed back, and at last forced to turn tail and leave the outlet from
Royd Lane free. Boultby suffered in the onslaught, but Helstone and
Malone, between them, held him up, and brought him through the business,
whole in limb, though sorely tried in wind.
The fat Dissenter who had given out the hymn was left sitting in the
ditch. He was a spirit merchant by trade, a leader of the
Nonconformists, and, it was said, drank more water in that one afternoon
than he had swallowed for a twelvemonth before. Mr. Hall had taken care
of Caroline, and Caroline of him. He and Miss Ainley made their own
quiet comments to each other afterwards on the incident. Miss Keeldar
and Mr. Helstone shook hands heartily when they had fairly got the whole
party through the lane. The curates began to exult, but Mr. Helstone
presently put the curb on their innocent spirits. He remarked that they
never had sense to know what to say, and had better hold their tongues;
and he reminded them that the business was none of their managing.
About half-past three the procession turned back, and at four once more
regained the starting-place. Long lines of benches were arranged in the
close-shorn fields round the school. There the children were seated, and
huge baskets, covered up with white cloths, and great smoking tin
vessels were brought out. Ere the distribution of good things commenced,
a brief grace was pronounced by Mr. Hall and sung by the children. Their
young voices sounded melodious, even touching, in the open air. Large
currant buns and hot, well-sweetened tea were then administered in the
proper spirit of liberality. No stinting was permitted on this day, at
least; the rule for each child's allowance being that it was to have
about twice as much as it could possibly eat, thus leaving a reserve to
be carried home for such as age, sickness, or other impediment prevented
from coming to the feast. Buns and beer circulated, meantime, amongst
the musicians and church-singers; afterwards the benches were removed,
and they were left to unbend their spirits in licensed play.
A bell summoned the teachers, patrons, and patronesses to the
schoolroom. Miss Keeldar, Miss Helstone, and many other ladies were
already there, glancing over the arrangement of their separate trays and
tables. Most of the female servants of the neighbourhood, together with
the clerks', the singers', and the musicians' wives, had been pressed
into the service of the day as waiters. Each vied with the other in
smartness and daintiness of dress, and many handsome forms were seen
amongst the younger ones. About half a score were cutting bread and
butter, another half-score supplying hot water, brought from the coppers
of the rector's kitchen. The profusion of flowers and evergreens
decorating the white walls, the show of silver teapots and bright
porcelain on the tables, the active figures, blithe faces, gay dresses
flitting about everywhere, formed altogether a refreshing and lively
spectacle. Everybody talked, not very loudly, but merrily, and the
canary birds sang shrill in their high-hung cages.