'Very much as if you meant it.'
'I sat upon that hearth, last night, all night,' exclaimed theCarrier.'On the spot where she has often sat beside me, with hersweet face looking into mine.I called up her whole life, day byday.I had her dear self, in its every passage, in review beforeme.And upon my soul she is innocent, if there is One to judge theinnocent and guilty!'
Staunch Cricket on the Hearth! Loyal household Fairies!
'Passion and distrust have left me!' said the Carrier; 'and nothingbut my grief remains.In an unhappy moment some old lover, bettersuited to her tastes and years than I; forsaken, perhaps, for me,against her will; returned.In an unhappy moment, taken bysurprise, and wanting time to think of what she did, she madeherself a party to his treachery, by concealing it.Last night shesaw him, in the interview we witnessed.It was wrong.Butotherwise than this she is innocent if there is truth on earth!'
'If that is your opinion' - Tackleton began.
'So, let her go!' pursued the Carrier.'Go, with my blessing forthe many happy hours she has given me, and my forgiveness for anypang she has caused me.Let her go, and have the peace of mind Iwish her! She'll never hate me.She'll learn to like me better,when I'm not a drag upon her, and she wears the chain I haveriveted, more lightly.This is the day on which I took her, withso little thought for her enjoyment, from her home.To-day sheshall return to it, and I will trouble her no more.Her father andmother will be here to-day - we had made a little plan for keepingit together - and they shall take her home.I can trust her,there, or anywhere.She leaves me without blame, and she will liveso I am sure.If I should die - I may perhaps while she is stillyoung; I have lost some courage in a few hours - she'll find that Iremembered her, and loved her to the last! This is the end of whatyou showed me.Now, it's over!'
'O no, John, not over.Do not say it's over yet! Not quite yet.
I have heard your noble words.I could not steal away, pretendingto be ignorant of what has affected me with such deep gratitude.
Do not say it's over, 'till the clock has struck again!'
She had entered shortly after Tackleton, and had remained there.
She never looked at Tackleton, but fixed her eyes upon her husband.
But she kept away from him, setting as wide a space as possiblebetween them; and though she spoke with most impassionedearnestness, she went no nearer to him even then.How different inthis from her old self!
'No hand can make the clock which will strike again for me thehours that are gone,' replied the Carrier, with a faint smile.
'But let it be so, if you will, my dear.It will strike soon.
It's of little matter what we say.I'd try to please you in aharder case than that.'
'Well!' muttered Tackleton.'I must be off, for when the clockstrikes again, it'll be necessary for me to be upon my way tochurch.Good morning, John Peerybingle.I'm sorry to be deprivedof the pleasure of your company.Sorry for the loss, and theoccasion of it too!'
'I have spoken plainly?' said the Carrier, accompanying him to thedoor.
'Oh quite!'
'And you'll remember what I have said?'
'Why, if you compel me to make the observation,' said Tackleton,previously taking the precaution of getting into his chaise; 'Imust say that it was so very unexpected, that I'm far from beinglikely to forget it.'
'The better for us both,' returned the Carrier.'Good bye.I giveyou joy!'
'I wish I could give it to YOU,' said Tackleton.'As I can't;thank'ee.Between ourselves, (as I told you before, eh?) I don'tmuch think I shall have the less joy in my married life, becauseMay hasn't been too officious about me, and too demonstrative.
Good bye! Take care of yourself.'
The Carrier stood looking after him until he was smaller in thedistance than his horse's flowers and favours near at hand; andthen, with a deep sigh, went strolling like a restless, broken man,among some neighbouring elms; unwilling to return until the clockwas on the eve of striking.
His little wife, being left alone, sobbed piteously; but oftendried her eyes and checked herself, to say how good he was, howexcellent he was! and once or twice she laughed; so heartily,triumphantly, and incoherently (still crying all the time), thatTilly was quite horrified.
'Ow if you please don't!' said Tilly.'It's enough to dead andbury the Baby, so it is if you please.'
'Will you bring him sometimes, to see his father, Tilly,' inquiredher mistress, drying her eyes; 'when I can't live here, and havegone to my old home?'
'Ow if you please don't!' cried Tilly, throwing back her head, andbursting out into a howl - she looked at the moment uncommonly likeBoxer.'Ow if you please don't! Ow, what has everybody gone andbeen and done with everybody, making everybody else so wretched!
Ow-w-w-w!'
The soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off at this juncture, into such adeplorable howl, the more tremendous from its long suppression,that she must infallibly have awakened the Baby, and frightened himinto something serious (probably convulsions), if her eyes had notencountered Caleb Plummer, leading in his daughter.This spectaclerestoring her to a sense of the proprieties, she stood for some fewmoments silent, with her mouth wide open; and then, posting off tothe bed on which the Baby lay asleep, danced in a weird, SaintVitus manner on the floor, and at the same time rummaged with herface and head among the bedclothes, apparently deriving much relieffrom those extraordinary operations.
'Mary!' said Bertha.'Not at the marriage!'
'I told her you would not be there, mum,' whispered Caleb.'Iheard as much last night.But bless you,' said the little man,taking her tenderly by both hands, 'I don't care for what they say.
I don't believe them.There an't much of me, but that littleshould be torn to pieces sooner than I'd trust a word against you!'
He put his arms about her and hugged her, as a child might havehugged one of his own dolls.