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And in two minutes he found himself, after scrambling up in the dark, crawling about on his hands and knees in the same heap of straw that had served to conceal Edmund Crabbe a few hours before, and doomed, in his turn, to overhear the conversation of any who might be below.
Crabbe was waiting for Pauline and gave her his arm down from the platform. "Well," said he, openly displaying his admiration, "you gave us a Gregorian Grand Duchess to-night, but I, for one, will not quarrel with you for that.
Hugh could not attend; and Dale could not invent, while there was no sympathy in his hearer. He was presently released, for it struck Hugh that he should like to write to his mother this very afternoon. His heart was heavy, and he wanted to tell her what was in it. Mr Crabbe gave him leave to go home; and Dale was in time for plenty more play.
On arriving in Aldeburgh Crabbe once more set up housekeeping with a sister, as he had done in his less prosperous days as parish doctor. Sad changes had occurred in his old home during the two years of his absence. His mother had passed away after her many years of patient suffering, and his father's temper and habits were not the better for losing the wholesome restraints of her presence.
"Only want ye to help me with a job some night that won't be nothin' to nuther of ye. But it's all to me. Will ye?" Lem wriggled nearer on the floor. "Ye mean stealin', Lon?" he demanded. "Yep." "And we ain't to share up with it?" "Nope; but ye're to have all that's in this here room. If I tell ye, will ye help?" Crabbe looked at Eli, and a furtive look was shot back.
An engraving of the Hall and moat, after Stanfield, forms an illustration to the third volume of the 1834 edition of Crabbe. When Crabbe began The Village, it was clearly intended to be, like The Borough later, a picture of Aldeburgh and its inhabitants. Yet not only Parham, but the country about Belvoir crept in before the poem was completed.
From this unfit class of pensioner Crabbe selects three for his minute analysis of character. They are, as usual, of a very sordid type. The first, a man named "Blaney," had his prototype in a half-pay major known to Crabbe in his Aldeburgh days, and even the tolerant Jeffrey held that the character was rather too shameless for poetical treatment.
On July 21st Crabbe and Kritzinger had a skirmish in the mountains near Cradock, in which the Boers were strong enough to hold their own; but on the same date near Murraysburg, Lukin, the gallant colonial gunner, with ninety men rode into 150 of Lategan's band and captured ten of them, with a hundred horses.
Her father had been a tanner in the Suffolk town of Beccles, where her mother still resided, and where Miss Elmy paid her occasional visits. The long journey from Aldeburgh to Beccles was often taken by Crabbe, and the changing features of the scenery traversed were reproduced, his son tells us, many years afterwards in the beautiful tale of The Lover's Journey.
The first impression, accordingly, produced on us by the letter, is one of surprise that after so long a period of intimate association with Burke, Crabbe should still be writing in a tone of profound anxiety and discouragement as to his future prospects.
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