All's Well, Page 3

  CHAPTER THREE.

  THE COMFORTABLE JUSTICE.

  Mr Justice Roberts sat in his dining-room after supper, with a tankardof ale at his elbow. Had the "pernicious weed" been discovered at thatdate, he would probably also have had a pipe in his hand; but tobaccobeing yet a calamity of the future, the Justice was not smoking.

  He was, however, very comfortable. He sat in a big leather chair, whichrested his portly figure; he had just had a good supper, consisting of apartridge pie and a dish of juicy pears; he had sold a horse thatmorning at considerable profit; his mind was as easy as his body.

  There was only one thing the occurrence of which Mr Roberts would havethought it worth his while to deprecate at that moment. This was,anybody coming to bother him. The worthy Justice did not like to bebothered. A good many people are of the same opinion. He had thatevening but one enemy in the world, and that was the man who should nextrap at his house door.

  "Rap-a-tap-tap-tap!"

  "Go to Jericho!" said the Justice to the unseen individual who was thusabout to disturb his rest. "I want none of you. Why on earth can't youlet a man alone?--What is it, Martha?"

  "Please you, Master, 'tis Master Benden would have a word with you."

  "What can the companion want?" mildly growled the Justice. "Well! lethim in, and bring another tankard. Good evening, Master Benden. A fineautumn eve, trow."

  Mr Benden's face said that he had come to talk about something of moremoment than autumn evenings. He sat down opposite the Justice, buttonedhis long gown up to the neck, as if to gird himself for action, andcleared his throat with an air of importance.

  "Master Roberts, I am come on a grave matter and a sad."

  "Can't deal with grave matters after supper," said the Justice. "Comeagain in the morning. Take a pear."

  "Sir, this is a serious business."

  "Business hours are over. I never do business out of hours."

  "To-night, Master Roberts, and to-night only, shall serve for thisbusiness."

  "I do no business out of hours!" solemnly repeated the officer of thelaw. "Take a pear--take two pears, and come again in the morning."

  Mr Benden shook his head in a tragic manner, and let the pears alone.

  "They are good pears," said the Justice. "If you love no pears, put onein your pocket with my commendations to good Mistress Benden. How dothshe?--well, I hope."

  "Were I able, Sir," replied the visitor impressively, "to bear yourcommendations to good Mistress Benden, I were the happier man. But,alas! I am not at that pass."

  "What, come you hither to complain of your wife? Fie, Master Benden!Go you home and peace her, like a wise man as you are, and cast her halfa suffering for some woman's gear."

  Mr Benden might most truthfully have made reply that he had ere thatevening bestowed on his wife not half a suffering only, but many wholeones: but he knew that the Justice meant half a sovereign, which wasthen pronounced exactly like suffering.

  "Sir!" he said rather angrily, "it pleases you to reckon lightly of thismatter: but what, I pray you, if you have to make account thereon withthe Queen's Grace's laws, not to speak of holy Church? Sir, I give youto wit that my wife is an ill hussy, and an heretic belike, and lacketha sharp pulling up--sharper than I can give her. She will not go tochurch, neither hear mass, nor hath she shriven her this many a day.You are set in office, methinks, to administer the laws, and have noright thus to shuffle off your duty by hours and minutes. I summon youto perform it in this case."

  Mr Justice Roberts was grave enough now. The half-lazy, half-jocosetone which he had hitherto worn was cast aside entirely, and theexpression of his face grew almost stern. But the sternness was not allfor the culprit thus arraigned before him; much of it was for theprosecutor. He was both shocked and disgusted with the course MrBenden had taken: which course is not fiction, but fact.

  "Master Benden," said he, "I am two men--the Queen's officer of herlaws, and plain Anthony Roberts of Cranbrook. You speak this even butto Anthony Roberts: and as such, good Master, I would have you bethinkyou that if your wife be brought afore me as Justice, I must deal withher according to law. You know, moreover, that in case she shall admither guilt, and refuse to amend, there is no course open to me save tocommit her to prison: and you know, I suppose, what the end of that maybe. Consider well if you are avised to go through with it. A man needcount the cost of building an house ere he layeth in a load of bricks."

  "You are not wont, Master Justice, to be thus tender over women," saidBenden derisively. "Methinks ere now I have heard you to thank thesaints you never wedded one."

  "And may do so yet again, Master Benden. I covet little to have a wifeto look after."

  Like many men in his day, Mr Roberts looked upon a wife not as somebodywho would look after him, in the sense of making him comfortable, butrather as one whom he would have the trouble of perpetually keeping outof all sorts of ways that were naughty and wrong.

  "But that is not your case," he continued in the same stern tone. "Youset to-night--if you resolve to persevere therein--a ball rolling thatmay not tarry till it reach the fire. Are you avised thereon?"

  "I am. Do your duty!" was the savage reply.

  "Then do you yours," said Mr Roberts coldly, "and bring Mrs Bendenbefore me next sessions day. There is time to forethink you ere itcome."

  Unconscious of the storm thus lowering over her, Alice Benden wassitting by little Christie's sofa. There were then few playthings, andno children's books, and other books were scarce and costly. Fiftyvolumes was considered a large library, and in few houses even ofeducated people were there more books than about half-a-dozen. For aninvalid confined to bed or sofa, whether child or adult, there waslittle resource save needlework. Alice had come to bring her littleniece a roll of canvas and some bright-coloured silks. Having so muchtime to spare, and so little variety of occupation, Christie was a moreskilful embroideress than many older women. A new pattern was a greatpleasure, and there were few pleasures open to the invalid and lonelychild. Her sole home company was her father, for their one servant,Nell, was too busy, with the whole work of the house upon her hands, todo more for Christabel than necessity required; and Mr Hall, who wasmanager of one of the large factories in Cranbrook, was obliged to beaway nearly the whole day. Other company--her Aunt Alice excepted--wasrather a trial than a pleasure to Christabel. The young people wererough and noisy, even when they tried not to be so, and the child'snerves were weak. Aunt Tabitha worried her to "rouse herself, and notbe a burden on her poor father"; and how gladly would Christabel havedone it! Uncle Thomas was also a harassing visitor, though in anotherway. He never knew what to say, when he had once asked how the invalidfelt: he only sat and gazed at her and the window alternately, now andthen, as though by a mental jerk, bringing out a few words.

  "He causes me to feel so naughty, Aunt," said Christie dolefully, "and Ido want to be good. He sits and looks on me till I feel--I feel--AuntAlice, I can't find the words: as if all my brains would come out of myfinger-ends, if he went on. And now and then he says a word or two--such as `Rain afore night, likely,' or `Bought a drove of pigsyesterday,' and I can only say, `Yes, uncle.' I think 'tis hard forboth of us, Aunt Alice, for we don't know what to say one to the other.I can't talk to _him_, and he can't talk to _me_."

  Alice laughed, and then the tears almost rose in her eyes, as she softlysmoothed Christie's fair hair. She knew full well the sensation ofintense, miserable nerve-strain, for which the little girl strove invain to find words.

  "'Tis hard to be patient, little Christie," she said tenderly. "But Godknoweth it, dear heart; and He is very patient with us."

  "O Aunt Alice, I know! And I am so sorry afterwards, when I should havebeen quiet and patient, and I have spoken crossly. People know not howhard it is, and how hard one tries: they only see when one gives way.They see not even how ashamed one is afterwards."

  "Truth, sweet heart; but the Lord seeth."

  "
Aunt, think you the Lord Jesus ever felt thus?"

  "He never felt sin, Christie; but I reckon He knew as well as any of uswhat it is to be wearied and troubled, when matters went not to Hiscomfort. `The contradiction of sinners' covereth a great deal."

  "I wonder," said Christie plaintively, "if He felt as if it hurt Himwhen His brethren banged the doors! Friswith alway does when she comes;and it is like as if she struck me on the ears. And she never seems tohear it!"

  "I cannot tell, sweeting, what He felt in the days of His flesh atNazareth; but I can tell thee a better thing--that He doth feel now, andfor thee. `I am poor and needy, but the Lord careth for me.' Keep thatin thine heart, little Christie; it shall be like a soft pillow for thyweary head."

  Alice rose to go home, and tied on her blue hood.

  "O Aunt Alice, must you go? Couldn't you tarry till Father comes?"

  "I think not, my dear heart. Tell thy father I had need to haste away,but I will come again and see both him and thee to-morrow."

  To-morrow!

  "Give him my loving commendations. Good-night, my child." And Alicehurried away.