Part 15

"Nancy Sands is a changed woman if ever there was one," mused the school-master, as he hurried along the dusty road after his boys, who had gone on in advance. "There never was a being who tried my patience more sorely than she did, with her waspish temper and her stinging tongue. Why, I remember biting my lip till it bled, to keep in the passionate retort to her very provoking taunts. Yes, the fire-ships were bearing down upon me then; and if I was enabled to 'sheer off' and avoid an explosion, it was because conscience stood at my helm, and my sails had been filled with prayer. Let no one make an excuse for passion by saying, 'It's in my nature;' the office of grace is to conquer nature, and tame the unruly spirit to the meekness and lowliness which become a Christian."

Ten minutes afterwards, Ned and his crew were busy as bees at their work, sawing and digging, carrying bricks and piling up wood, some of the boys singing cheerily as they labored, while the miller's little girl, seated on a stone, watched the work, and joined in the song with her sweet, childish voice.

Suddenly the singing ceased. Franks, who was working hard with his back towards the path which led up to the high road, did not at first notice the cause of the interruption, till he heard a loud, coarse, and too familiar voice, exclaim, "You boys there, what are you about?"

Ned Franks did not need the murmur of "Sir Lacy--Sir Lacy Barton," which ran through the groups around him, to make him aware who had appeared. He turned round quickly, and saw a young man not more than two-and-twenty years of age, but whose bloated features already showed the effects of the evil habits which must soon have caused his expulsion from the noble service which he disgraced, had not his succession to the baronetcy given him an excuse for quitting the navy of his own accord. As the baronet stood on the path leading down into the Hollow, between his fingers the lighted cigar which he had just removed from his lips, Ned gravely touched his cap out of respect to his position as lord of the manor. The moment that the eyes of the two men met, the school-master felt certain that Sir Lacy had recognized him, though the settled purplish-red on the baronet's cheek would scarcely admit of a deepened flush. He took no notice of Franks's salutation but by a haughty stare, and turned towards one of the boys who was standing with his foot resting on his spade.

"What are you all about?" repeated Sir Lacy.

"Please, sir," answered the boy, "we's be a-building up them old houses," and he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

"And what do such young fry as you get for your work?"

"Please, sir, we don't not get nothing," replied the little brown-faced rustic. "Ned Franks, he be our school-master, there; he tells us to work for the pleasure of helping the poor."

Sir Lacy gave a loud, very scornful whistle, and then a still louder laugh. "If you listen to such twaddle," he cried, "I'll tell you what you'll come to, my lad. Your ears will grow longer than your purse, and you'll have to take to browsing on thistles, like a donkey, as you are!" and to give point to his wit, the young man caught hold of the ear of the unfortunate boy, and gave it a pull, apparently to hasten the lengthening process, but which had only the effect of forcing out a sharp cry of pain.

The circle of boys retreated a pace backwards, and Franks had to press his lips very tightly indeed together to keep in the word "brute!"

"And what's that?" asked the baronet, turning to another young worker, who looked by no means anxious to be singled out for conversation with the lord of the manor. Sir Lacy was pointing with his cigar to the great pile collected for making the seven cottage porches.

"Them be branches," stammered out the child.

"I dare say; I did not take them for buttercups, wiseacre! So you've been making preparations for a grand bonfire in honor of my return?"

The poor little boy gave a frightened, appealing glance towards Franks.

"Answer me; I suppose you've a tongue in your head," said Sir Lacy. The boy was trembling for his ears.

"Them be for the porches, sir," faltered the poor little fellow, who had been one of the most active in collecting for the purpose the strongest and most pliable branches.

"Ah! but I say they're for a bonfire, and as a bonfire they shall blaze!" cried Sir Lacy. "Here's a light,--you set fire to the heap!"

Again the frightened child looked to his master, though not daring to refuse to take into his hand the lighted cigar. Franks strode forward, and, with as much calmness as he could command, addressed Sir Lacy Barton.

"I hope, sir, that you will not destroy that which it has cost us some time and trouble to collect, and which is intended to add to the few comforts of the respectable poor."

"Mind your own business, and hold your tongue," was the insolent reply; "and you, little dog, do what I bid you, or I'll toss you on the top of the blaze."

In a few minutes the pile of branches was a crackling heap of smoke and flame, that curled up pale in the yet brilliant light of the declining sun. Sir Lacy laughed, rubbed his hands, and bade the boys give a good British cheer, if they knew how to do it. About half the number obeyed, though the shout sounded different indeed from that which had burst from them freely, at no man's command,--when they had resolved to give two hours daily to working for the poor.

"Now off with ye all to your homes," cried Sir Lacy, as soon as what he called "the fun of the thing" was over; "unless you've a mind to come and look on at a famous match between some game-cocks that I'm going to have up at the Hall."

Several of the boys cheered again at the great man's invitation, and, whether from a regard for their ears, or a mean desire to curry favor, not one of them seemed to be in the least disposed to return to work. In short, as soon as Sir Lacy had lighted another cigar, and turning on his heel began reascending the path, the jovial crew dispersed in one direction or another. They were afraid or ashamed to appear to mind the school-master's "twaddle."

"They've not the spirit of a tom-twit amongst them!" muttered Franks, almost more indignant at the defection of his boys than at the insolence of Sir Lacy. "They just follow one another like sheep!"

Little Bessy, with her face glowing scarlet, ran up to the sailor, who was standing alone.

"Oh, isn't he a bad, bad man," she cried, "to burn up all in that great big fire, and to make the boys go away? But don't mind him, don't mind him, Ned Franks. I'll work with you, if they won't work. I can carry a brick all by myself!" and she suited the action to the word.

"There's a brave little lass!" said Franks, stooping to pat her curly head. "You won't be daunted by difficulties, nor bullied into baseness by a"--he stopped short; the sight of the still burning pile recalled to him Persis's simile of the fire-ships. He felt the fierce glow rising hotter in his heart than the flame from the branches which scorched his brow. He must not trust himself to say more, even to the child, lest he should utter words which he might in vain desire to recall.

Ned returned to his work, and labored with even greater energy than usual. Perhaps the strong efforts of the arm relieved the pressure on the spirits, or perhaps the hard blows which descended on pillar and post were an outward expression of the struggle going on within, to strike down, and then to keep down, the stubborn passions of the natural heart.

XXXIII.

Watching for Souls.

The evil effects of Sir Lacy's residence at the Hall were soon seen in the village school. Franks found that his boys became less regular in attendance, and less respectful in manner. He more than once, when giving a serious reproof, heard, from a distant corner of the room a whisper, in which "twaddle" and "donkey's ears" were the only words to be distinguished. Few of his jovial crew now ever worked in Wild Rose Hollow; it was not the fashion to do so. Franks would see little rustics, instead of engaging in healthful labor, sauntering about with their hands in their pockets and smoking. The great ambition of the boys was to get a cigar; and half-used ones, thrown away by Sir Lacy or his rollicking guests, were counted as prizes.

Great was the annoyance of the good old invalid Vicar of Colme, great the vexation of Mr. Leyton, his curate, when it was given out that Sir Lacy would have a cricket-match every Sunday afternoon on his lawn, and treat the boys to strong ale, or, as it was rumored, to something stronger. The vicar and curate held anxious consultations together in the study, where the old minister, feeble and suffering, reclined in his large arm-chair.

"I have written a strong remonstrance to Sir Lacy, as you will see here," said the vicar, handing a letter to his nephew. "I have tried to write as temperately as I could. But would it not be well, Claudius, as you are the baronet's near relation, that you should go and speak to him yourself on the subject? He may be rather careless than actually wicked. We know that

"'Evil is wrought By want of thought As well as by want of heart.'"

The young minister shook his head sadly. "I have not the slightest influence with my cousin," he said. "He asked me to dinner once after his arrival at Colme, and I thought it right not to refuse his first invitation. But what I saw at the Hall, and still more what I heard, made me return home sickened and disgusted, and with a resolve that I would never cross the threshold again. It is a misfortune to the whole place that such a man as Sir Lacy Barton should hold the chief position in it."

The curate, who was just beginning to know his flock, and be known by them, to overcome his own painful shyness, and become accustomed to parish work, looked overwhelmed by the new and unexpected difficulties which had started up before him.

"My dear boy," said the old vicar, in his fatherly way, "this will be a sifting time in the village; but we must not forget that temptation itself is turned into a cause of rejoicing to those who in God's strength overcome it. Were there no battle, where would be the victory? It is _when the enemy comes in like a flood_ that _the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a banner_ against him. Let the danger to our flock make us but more watchful, more vigilant, more earnest in prayer. God is above all, and even sinners are made unconscious instruments in his hands for working good that they intend not. Is it not written, _Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee, and the remainder of wrath shalt thou restrain_?"

"One comfort is that we have Ned Franks to look after the school," observed Mr. Leyton. "He has such an energy and intelligence, his heart is so thoroughly in his work, and then his piety is so sincere, that his influence is always for good."

"Such men as Ned Franks are indeed _the salt of the earth_," said the vicar. "The Christian's calling is, not only himself to be, through God's grace, purified, but to become a means of preserving all over whom his influence extends from the corruption of sin. No man can live merely unto himself; the effect of his example is ever silently working on others; it is a talent entrusted to him, for which he will, at the last day, render an account."

"For one like Barton how fearful an account!" cried the curate.

"He needs our prayers," said the vicar.

The letter of Mr. Curtis was sent to the Hall; Sir Lacy was at the billiard-table when he received it. He tore it open, glanced at its contents, then, laughing, twisted the paper round and round, and used it to light his cigar.

"Since the good parson's squeamish about Sunday cricketing," he said, "we'll have a little cock-fighting instead to please him."

The vicar was so much annoyed at this attempt to draw away his people from church, and make them violate the sanctity of the day set apart for worship, that all the entreaties of his wife, backed by the orders of the doctor, were scarcely sufficient, as Norah told her uncle, to prevent him from having himself carried up to the pulpit on the following Sunday (as he could not have walked up the steps), to preach on the Fourth Commandment. Very unwillingly the good old pastor gave up to his curate the work which he had not the bodily strength to perform. He felt like a wounded veteran standard-bearer, when obliged to resign into the hands of the young recruit at his side the banner which he would fain have defended himself to the last. Never before had bodily infirmity been so painful a trial to the vicar. He was rather grieved than surprised to hear how empty the benches had been at afternoon service, though Claudius Leyton had exerted his utmost efforts in the morning sermon to warn, to convince, to persuade.

"I should have been utterly disheartened," said the weary curate to his uncle on the Sunday evening, "had not Nancy Sands been seated just before me, looking so quiet, attentive, and earnest. When I remember what she was, and see what she is, I feel that I dare never despair."

"_Oh, rest in the Lord, wait patiently for him, and he shall give thee thy heart's desire_," repeated the vicar.

Difficulties were however to thicken, and trials to increase. An incident occurred on the following day which caused great excitement through the village of Colme.

XXXIV.

Put to the Question.

Persis sat with her work in her hand by her open window in the little room over that in which the school was assembled below. Pleasant to her ear was the hum of voices rising from beneath, for it told her that her husband was, as usual, opening the day by devotion, and her busy needle stopped, and she silently joined in the Lord's prayer repeated by many young voices.

Persis was then about to set to her work again, when, chancing to glance out of the window, her attention was drawn to three gentlemen walking along the road, each smoking a cigar. Though Mrs. Franks had not before seen the baronet, who never appeared at church, she instantly recognized him as the central person in the group, by the description which she had heard of him. There was no mistaking the short, thick figure, the face where the color lay in patches of purplish-red, and the hat cocked a good deal upon one side, over a mass of sandy-colored hair. Sir Lacy's companions were a young lawyer and a medical student, neither of whom looked as if they would be likely to do much credit to their respective professions.

Persis Franks dropped her work on her knees, instinctively clasped her hands, and drew back a little from the window, while keeping her eyes anxiously fixed upon the unwelcome strangers.

"I hope and trust that they'll pass by the school without entering it," she said to herself, while the sound of their coarse laughter grew louder as they drew nearer.

The hopes of Franks's wife were not realized. The three men were evidently on their way to the school. Persis could catch a few of their words,--something about badgering and baiting, and putting the fellow to the question.

Hot as was that July morning, Persis grew cold and trembled, and for the first time let her baby cry in his cradle for at least two minutes before she went to see what her darling wanted. She had a terrible misgiving that nothing good could come of the visit of those three men who had just disappeared under the porch. Earnestly Persis prayed that her husband might be able to command his temper under any provocation, and so defeat the malice of one whom she could not but regard as an enemy.

Franks, upon every Monday morning, as soon as prayers were ended, questioned his boys on the subject of the sermon heard on the preceding day. This was his invariable custom, and he found it to be followed by two good results: it made the boys listen more attentively to the sermon, and it enabled him to explain to them in his simple, homely way, whatever had been too hard for them to understand. The addresses of the young curate, unlike those of the vicar, were often above the comprehension of some of his ignorant hearers.

Franks, upon this particular Monday morning, had just begun his questioning with the words, "Now, Sims, what was the text?" when there was a murmur of "Sir Lacy, Sir Lacy," heard through the school-room, and every eye was turned towards the door through which the three gentlemen were entering.

It must be owned that to Franks the visitors were extremely unwelcome, and especially at that time. The influence of the baronet was already working for evil amongst the Colme boys, and he was but too likely, not only to take offence at the subject of the sermon, but to try to turn into ridicule any religious instruction that he might hear. There was some stiffness in the air of the school-master as he received the lord of the manor.

"Go on, go on, just as if I were not here," said the baronet, replacing the cigar which he had taken out of his mouth for a moment; and Franks felt that for the sake of his boys he must go on. His pupils must see in him no cringing fear of man overcoming the fear of God. Had he changed his regular custom on account of the baronet's presence, he would have shown himself unfit to train boys to do their duty faithfully and fearlessly in the face of all the world.

"What was the text of the sermon?" repeated Ned Franks, addressing himself again to young Sims.

But if the one-armed school-master preserved his presence of mind, the scholar certainly did not do so also. Sims, the same boy who had had his ear twitched by Sir Lacy in Wild Rose Hollow, looked with an uneasy, frightened expression, not at his questioner, but at the formidable visitor who was standing with his hands behind his back to listen. The boy began to stammer forth, "Remember the--the," and then stopped short, not daring to finish the verse.

Sir Lacy Barton burst out laughing at his evident confusion. "A precious bright scholar you!" he exclaimed. "If you'd been questioned as to whether Sharpspur or Redcomb had the best of it yesterday, you'd have answered him a deal quicker;" and the baronet wound up his sentence with a loud oath, such as had never been heard before within the walls of that school-room.

Franks felt that the honor of his Master, the welfare of his pupils, forbade him to pass over in silence, on account of the rank of the offender, what in the case of any one else would have called forth instant and stern rebuke. "_Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain_," he said, in a tone not loud but clear, which, in the breathless silence kept by the awe-struck boys, was heard distinctly in the farthest corner of the room; and, as he spoke the message of God, the master fixed his eyes calmly and fearlessly upon the profane young man, who quailed and blanched under their gaze. The effect upon the astonished boys was greater than would have been produced by the most eloquent sermon against swearing. They saw that in Franks they had a leader who would not only bid them wage war against vice in every shape, but who would himself head the charge, and expose himself freely in the conflict.

Badham, the lawyer, came to the assistance of the discomfited Barton. He had a supercilious, sarcastic manner, almost more disgusting to Franks than the coarseness of Sir Lacy himself.

"You are well up in the commandments, I perceive, my good friend," he observed, addressing himself to the school-master, "and no doubt your knowledge on all other parts of education is equally deep. May I ask in what college you have studied?" Badham winked at the baronet as he asked the question.

"I was never at college," replied Ned Franks; "I was brought up at a village school, but left it early to go to sea."

"But of course you have read and studied a good deal since, or you would hardly have been placed by the late Sir Lacy Barton in the position which you now hold."

Ned Franks flushed. He felt as if he were being put upon his trial, and before judges determined beforehand to condemn him. "I have not great book-learning," he replied; "but Mr. Curtis recommended me to Sir Lacy as one who could fulfil the duties of school-master here."

"But the present Sir Lacy takes such a fatherly interest in the school which his ancestors founded," said the lawyer, winking again at the baronet, "that he wishes to judge for himself as to the competency of one entrusted with such a responsible charge as yours. He has desired me to ask you a few educational questions, to which, I have not the slightest doubt, you will give a prompt and able reply."

"I do not think this the time or place for such an examination," said the school-master, whose countenance was glowing with indignation at the insidious proposal. "I will wait upon Sir Lacy at the Hall at any hour that he may choose to appoint."

"No time or place like the present!" cried the baronet, who had a keen relish in the "baiting and badgering" of the school-master in the presence of his pupils. "As I'm the patron of this school, I've a good right, I take it, to see that the teacher isn't a blockhead or a dunce."

And then, at a sign from him, the flippant lawyer began to aim a shower of questions, like a flight of arrows, against the unfortunate school-master,--questions ingeniously contrived to perplex and puzzle even one who had received a better education than had fallen to the lot of Ned Franks. At every query to which no reply was or could be given by him who had passed his youth at sea, the baronet burst out into an insulting laugh, which was echoed by the medical student; as if the ignorance of Franks regarding Neri and Bianchi, Palleschi and Piagnone, the respective styles of French, German, and Dutch infidel writers, and the names of female favorites of Bourbon kings, was as absurd as if he had been unable to repeat the multiplication-table. Certainly, Sir Lacy could not have himself answered one of the questions. But what of that? One needs no deep study to learn how to laugh; and it was rare fun to him to humble and degrade the teacher before all his pupils. Franks was more annoyed by the titter from some of his scholars, which now followed the gentlemen's uproarious mirth, than he was by the more direct insults of the strangers. That his "jovial crew," that a single boy amongst them, should be mean enough to join in the laugh against him, was almost more than his spirit could endure.

_I am purposed that my mouth shall not transgress_, had been the text which Franks had chosen on that morning for his meditation during the day. Sorely he needed it now. As he stood silent before his persecutor, with flushed cheek and flashing eye, again and again he repeated that text to himself, to keep in the burning words that were rising to his tongue. He had spoken out boldly when the insult was against his Master; there was the more need that he should show self-command when the attack was personal to himself.

"You don't mean us to conclude," said Badham at last, "that you have never so much as heard of all these well-known matters before?"

"Sir," replied Franks, as calmly as he could, though his tone betrayed some emotion, "my work is to train village lads for usefulness here and happiness hereafter; and I do not suppose that farm-lads will be the less suited for either the one or the other because they can't give the names of Italian factions or of the favorites of French kings."

Badham shrugged his shoulders, the baronet and the medical student shrugged theirs, to express their utter contempt for such a very ridiculous observation. The baronet was the first to break the silence which followed, which he did by addressing himself to Badham.

"What say you to our master here,--you who have all kinds of learning at the ends of your fingers,--is he fit to be a teacher of boys?"

"About as fit as to be a performer on a lady's grand piano," said the lawyer.