The Parson O' Dumford

“To warn thee as they mean to lay wait for thee, and do thee a mischief.”

“Who says so?”

“I know it,” said Tom: “so if you’ll tak’ a good bit of advice thou’lt stay at home, and not go out.”

“It’s a trick – a trap,” cried Richard. “If it were true, you’re not the man to come and tell me.”

“Why not?” said Tom bluntly.

“Because you hate me, and believe I’ve taken away your wretched wench.”

“Damn thee!” cried Tom, seizing him by the arm and throat; and as he brought the young fellow to his knees, quite paralysing his effort to get his hand into Iiis breast; “thou may’st say what thee likes again me; but if thee speaks ill of her I can’t bear it; so I warn thee. Hate thee I do, and yet I come to tell thee of danger, and – ”

A faint shriek made Tom start, for, pale as death, Eve Pelly rushed to Richard’s help, and clutched at Tom Podmore’s sturdy arms, which dropped at her touch as if those of Eve had been talismanic.

“Aw raight, Miss,” he said smiling. “I wean’t hurt him; but I come to do him good, and he made me mad.”

“Mad, yes,” cried Richard, who had regained his feet, and now drew a pistol. “You were mad to come here; but I’m ready for you and the rest of your rascally crew, and for all your malicious traps and plans.”

“Richard!” shrieked Eve, who tried to catch his arm; but she was flung off, and would have fallen, but for Tom Podmore, before whom she stood, screening him as she begged him to leave the house.

“Yes, Miss, I’ll go,” said Tom, smiling; “not as I’m afraid of him and his pistol. What I did he browt upon himself. I’ve done what I thowt was raight, so he must tak’ his chance. I on’y come to warn him as there’s a dozen or two of the lads as listen to Sim Slee made themselves into a gang agen him.”

“What, our workmen?” cried Eve.

“Well, only some o’ the outsiders, Miss; t’others wean’t have nowt to do wi’ it. That’s all.”

As he spoke he smiled sadly at the poor pale face before him, and then was gone.

Volume Two – Chapter Thirteen.

Podmore Seeks an Ally

Tom Podmore walked straight away from the Big House, listening to the noise and shouting as he went to the Vicarage, where Murray Selwood was in conference with Jacky Budd, respecting certain improvements to be made in the shrubbery, when the season suited for planting.

“And what would you plant here, Budd?” he said to the thirsty soul.

“Oh, I should put a few laurels there, sir.”

“And in that corner?”

“Oh, I should put a few laurels there, sir.”

“And in the centre bed?”

“A few laurels, sir.”

“And by the bare patch by the edge?”

“Just a few laurels, sir.”

“And along the side of the house?”

“Couldn’t put anything better than a few laurels, sir.”

“And for the new hedge to separate the two gardens?”

“Oh, a few laurels, sir.”

“Then you would put laurels all about?”

“Well, yes, sir; you see they’re so evergreen and – ”

“Oh, here’s Podmore,” said the vicar, going down to the gate. “Well, my lad, how are you? I’m glad to see you.”

“Thanky’ kindly, sir,” said Tom, pressing firmly the hand given to him in so friendly a way. “Can I speak to you a minute?”

“Of course you can. Come into the house.”

He led the way into the vicarage, and placed a chair for Tom in the study, but the young man did not take it, and remained silent.

“I’m deeply grieved,” said the vicar, laying his hand on the young fellow’s shoulder; “deeply, Tom Podmore. I had hoped that she would have come to her senses, and made a better choice.”

“Don’t, sir, please don’t,” said Tom, turning away his head; and, laying his arm against the wall, he placed his forehead against it, and his broad shoulders heaved. “I can’t bear to hear a word spoke again her, sir.”

“I’ll not speak against her, Podmore, believe me, poor girl; and I deeply regret that her father was too blind to listen to me.”

“You spoke to him, then?” said Tom, sadly.

“I did; and I have striven hard to be friends with Richard Glaire, and to bring him to a better feeling; but I failed with both.”

“Then you think as I do, sir,” said Tom, sadly – “You think as she’s been took away?”

“I cannot help thinking so,” was the reply. “If I am misjudging, I am very sorry; but I have done everything I could to trace her, even to having a man down from town, who has been constantly searching ever since she disappeared, and he has discovered nothing.”

“And have you done this, sir?”

“Yes; why should I not?” said the vicar, sadly. “But you have come for some reason, Podmore. What can I do for you?”

“Well, sir, I’ve comed about these goings on up yonder in the town.”

“There’s no fresh violence, I hope,” cried the vicar, hastily.

“Not as yet, sir; but there’s going to be, I’m afraid. You see, sir, there’s about a couple of dozen as has been got over by Sim Slee, and he’s made ’em join him in some kind of brotherhood, as he calls it. The older men as has got heads on their shoulders laughs at it all, and looks upon Sim as a chattering fool.”

“Fools do mischief sometimes,” said the vicar, half to himself.

“Yes, sir, they do; but all the best of the men tak’ Sim Slee at what he’s worth; but there’s a few, you see, as are ’mazed by his big words, and are ready to be led into any mischief.”