ELIZABETH GASKELL Premium Collection: 10 Novels & 40+ Short Stories; Including Poems, Essays & Biographies (Illustrated). Elizabeth Gaskell
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who went out with thee this morning," said his mother, after she had bestowed on him a little motherly scolding.
"Where she is now, I don't know. I saw her last sailing down the river after the John Cropper. I'm afeared she won't reach her; wind changed and she would be under weigh, and over the bar in no time. She should have been back by now."
It took Job some little time to understand this, from the confused use of the feminine pronoun. Then he inquired how he could best find Mary.
"I'll run down again to the pier," said the boy; "I'll warrant I'll find her."
"Thou shalt do no such a thing," said his mother, setting her back against the door. The lad made a comical face at Job, which met with no responsive look from the old man, whose sympathies were naturally in favour of the parent; although he would thankfully have availed himself of Charley's offer, for he was weary, and anxious to return to poor Mrs. Wilson, who would be wondering what had become of him.
"How can I best find her? Who did she go with, lad?"
But Charley was sullen at his mother's exercise of authority before a stranger, and at that stranger's grave looks when he meant to have made him laugh.
"They were river boatmen;—that's all I know," said he.
"But what was the name of their boat?" persevered Job.
"I never took no notice;—the Anne, or William,—or some of them common names, I'll be bound."
"What pier did she start from?" asked Job, despairingly.
"Oh, as for that matter, it were the stairs on the Prince's Pier she started from; but she'll not come back to the same, for the American steamer came up with the tide, and anchored close to it, blocking up the way for all the smaller craft. It's a rough evening too, to be out on," he maliciously added.
"Well, God's will be done! I did hope we could have saved the lad," said Job, sorrowfully; "but I'm getten very doubtful again. I'm uneasy about Mary, too,—very. She's a stranger in Liverpool."
"So she told me," said Charley. "There's traps about for young women at every corner. It's a pity she's no one to meet her when she lands."
"As for that," replied Job, "I don't see how any one could meet her when we can't tell where she would come to. I must trust to her coming right. She's getten spirit and sense. She'll most likely be for coming here again. Indeed, I don't know what else she can do, for she knows no other place in Liverpool. Missus, if she comes, will you give your son leave to bring her to No. 8, Back Garden Court, where there's friends waiting for her? I'll give him sixpence for his trouble."
Mrs. Jones, pleased with the reference to her, gladly promised. And even Charley, indignant as he was at first at the idea of his motions being under the control of his mother, was mollified at the prospect of the sixpence, and at the probability of getting nearer to the heart of the mystery.
But Mary never came.
Chapter XXX.
Job Legh's Deception
"Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
The clock gives warning for eleven;
'Tis on the stroke—'He must be near,'
Quoth Betty, 'and will soon be here,
As sure as there's a moon in heaven.'
The clock is on the stroke of twelve,
And Johnny is not yet in sight,
—The moon's in heaven, as Betty sees,
But Betty is not quite at ease;
And Susan has a dreadful night."
Wordsworth.
Job found Mrs. Wilson pacing about in a restless way; not speaking to the woman at whose house she was staying, but occasionally heaving such deep oppressive sighs as quite startled those around her.
"Well!" said she, turning sharp round in her tottering walk up and down, as Job came in.
"Well, speak!" repeated she, before he could make up his mind what to say; for, to tell the truth, he was studying for some kind-hearted lie which might soothe her for a time. But now the real state of the case came blurting forth in answer to her impatient questioning.
"Will's not to the fore. But he'll may be turn up yet, time enough."
She looked at him steadily for a minute, as if almost doubting if such despair could be in store for her as his words seemed to imply. Then she slowly shook her head, and said, more quietly than might have been expected from her previous excited manner,
"Don't go for to say that! Thou dost not think it. Thou'rt well-nigh hopeless, like me. I seed all along my lad would be hung for what he never did. And better he were, and were shut49 of this weary world, where there's neither justice nor mercy left."
She looked up with tranced eyes as if praying to that throne where mercy ever abideth, and then sat down.
"Nay, now thou'rt off at a gallop," said Job. "Will has sailed this morning for sure, but that brave wench, Mary Barton, is after him, and will bring him back, I'll be bound, if she can but get speech on him. She's not back yet. Come, come, hold up thy head. It will all end right."
"It will all end right," echoed she; "but not as thou tak'st it. Jem will be hung, and will go to his father and the little lads, where the Lord God wipes away all tears, and where the Lord Jesus speaks kindly to the little ones, who look about for the mothers they left upon earth. Eh, Job, yon's a blessed land, and I long to go to it, and yet I fret because Jem is hastening there. I would not fret if he and I could lie down to-night to sleep our last sleep; not a bit would I fret if folk would but know him to be innocent—as I do."
"They'll know it sooner or later, and repent sore if they've hanged him for what he never did," replied Job.
"Ay, that they will. Poor souls! May God have mercy on them when they find out their mistake."
Presently Job grew tired of sitting waiting, and got up, and hung about the door and window, like some animal wanting to go out. It was pitch dark, for the moon had not yet risen.
"You just go to bed," said he to the widow. "You'll want your strength for to-morrow. Jem will be sadly off, if he sees you so cut up as you look to-night. I'll step down again and find Mary. She'll be back by this time. I'll come and tell you every thing, never fear. But, now, you go to bed."
"Thou'rt a kind friend, Job Legh, and I'll go, as thou wishest me. But, oh! mind thou com'st straight off to me, and bring Mary as soon as thou'st lit on her." She spoke low, but very calmly.
"Ay, ay!" replied Job, slipping out of the house.
He went first to Mr. Bridgenorth's, where it had struck him that Will and Mary might be all this time waiting for him.
They were not there, however. Mr. Bridgenorth had just come in, and Job went breathlessly up-stairs to consult with him as to the state of the case.
"It's a bad job," said the lawyer, looking very grave, while he arranged his papers. "Johnson told me how it was; the woman that Wilson lodged with told him. I doubt it's but a wild-goose chase of the girl Barton. Our case must rest on the uncertainty of circumstantial evidence, and the goodness of the prisoner's previous character. A very vague and weak defence. However, I've engaged Mr. Clinton as counsel, and he'll make the best of it. And now, my good fellow, I must wish you good-night, and turn you out of doors. As it is, I shall have to sit up into the small hours. Did you see my clerk as you came up-stairs? You did! Then may I trouble you to ask him to step up immediately?"
After this Job could not stay, and, making his humble bow, he left the room.
Then he went to Mrs.