Shirley by Charlotte Brontë Read Free Book Online Page B

demanded a voice from the vehicle.
    »Can that be Joe Scott?«
    »Ay, ay!« returned another voice; for the gig contained two persons, as was seen by the glimmer of its lamp: the men with the lanterns had now fallen into the rear, or rather the equestrians of the rescue-party had outridden the pedestrians. »Ay, Mr. Moore, it's Joe Scott. I'm bringing him back to you in a bonny pickle. I fand him on the top of the moor yonder, him and three others. What will you give me for restoring him to you?«
    »Why, my thanks, I believe; for I could better have afforded to lose a better man. That is you, I suppose, Mr. Yorke, by your voice?«
    »Ay, lad, it's me. I was coming home from Stilbro' market, and just as I got to the middle of the moor, and was whipping on as swift as the wind (for these, they say, are not safe times, thanks to a bad government!) I heard a groan. I pulled up: some would have whipt on faster; but I've naught to fear, that I know of. I don't believe there's a lad in these parts would harm me: at least I'd give them as good as I got if they offered to do it. I said, ›Is there aught wrong anywhere?‹ – ›'Deed is there,‹ somebody says, speaking out of the ground, like. ›What's to do? be sharp, and tell me,‹ I ordered. – ›Nobbut four on us ligging in a ditch,‹ says Joe, as quiet as could be. I tell'd 'em, more shame to 'em, and bid them get up and move on, or I'd lend them a lick of the gig-whip; for my notion was, they were all fresh. – ›We'd ha' done that an hour sin'; but we're teed wi' a bit o' band,‹ says Joe. So in a while I got down and loosed 'em wi' my penknife; and Scott would ride wi' me, to tell me all how it happened; and t'others are coming on as fast as their feet will bring them.«
    »Well, I am greatly obliged to you, Mr. Yorke.«
    »Are you, my lad? you know you're not. However, here are the rest approaching. And here, by the Lord! is another set with lights in their pitchers, like the army of Gideon; and as we've th' parson wi' us, – good-evening, Mr. Helstone, – we'se do.«
    Mr. Helstone returned the salutation of the individual in the gig very stiffly indeed. That individual proceeded: –
    »We're eleven strong men, and there's both horses and chariots amang us. If we could only fall in wi' some of these starved ragamuffins of frame-breakers, we could win a grand victory; we could iv'ry one be a Wellington, – that would please ye, Mr. Helstone; and sich paragraphs as we could contrive for t' papers! Briarfield suld be famous: but we'se hev a column and a half i' th'
Stilbro' Courier
ower this job, as it is, I daresay: I'se expect no less.«
    »And I'll promise you no less, Mr. Yorke, for I'll write the article myself,« returned the Rector.
    »To be sure! sartainly! And mind ye recommend weel that them 'at brake t' bits o' frames, and teed Joe Scott's legs wi' band, suld be hung without benefit o' clergy. It's a hanging matter, or suld be; no doubt o' that.«
    »If I judged them, I'd give them short shrift!« cried Moore; »but I mean to let them quite alone this bout, to give them rope enough, certain that in the end they will hang themselves.«
    »Let them alone, will ye, Moore? Do you promise that?«
    »Promise? No. All I mean to say is, I shall give myself no particular trouble to catch them; but if one falls in my way –«
    »You'll snap him up, of course: only you would rather they would do something worse than merely stop a waggon before you reckon with them. Well, we'll say no more on the subject at present. Here we are at my door, gentlemen, and I hope you and the men will step in: you will none of you be the worse of a little refreshment.«
    Moore and Helstone opposed this proposition as unnecessary; it was, however, pressed on them so courteously, and the night, besides, was so inclement, and the gleam from the muslin-curtained windows of the house before which they had halted, looked so inviting, that at length they yielded. Mr. Yorke, after having