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Tregarva stood over him and looked down at him, like some huge stately bloodhound on a trembling mangy cur. 'Good heavens! thought Lancelot, as his eye wandered from the sad steadfast dignity of the one, to the dogged helpless misery of the other 'can those two be really fellow-citizens? fellow-Christians? even animals of the same species? Hard to believe!
Now and then there was a poaching song; then one of the lowest flash London school filth and all was roared in chorus in presence of the women. 'I am afraid that you do not thank me for having brought you to any place so unfit for a gentleman, said Tregarva, seeing Lancelot's sad face. 'Because it is so unfit for a gentleman, therefore I do thank you.
'He'll be round again in a minute. And again, right between them and the clear, cold moon, 'Ha! ha! ha! resounded over their heads. They gazed up into the cloudless star-bespangled sky, but there was no sign of living thing. 'It's an old sign to me, quoth Tregarva; 'God grant that I may remember it in this black day of mine.
There was no mistaking those delicate footsteps, and the two young men drew back with fluttering hearts, and breathed out silent blessings on the ministering angels, as they entered the crazy and reeking house. 'I'm thinking, sir, said Tregarva, as they walked slowly and reluctantly away, 'that it is hard of the gentlemen to leave all God's work to the ladies, as nine-tenths of them do.
'Hand me the rod and can, and help me out along the buck-stage, said Lancelot; 'I must have some more talk with you, my fine fellow. 'Amen, answered Tregarva, as he assisted our lame hero along a huge beam which stretched out into the pool; and having settled him there, returned mechanically to his work, humming a Wesleyan hymn- tune.
We've work enough to fill our kettles. The muck must just lie in the road, smell or none, till the rain carries it away. Lancelot sighed again. 'It would be a good thing for Ashy, Tregarva, if the weir-pool did, some fine morning, run up to Ashy Down, as poor Harry Verney said on his deathbed.
I should fancy, if I believed that, that the devil in the old history which you believe had had the best of it with a vengeance, when he brought sin into the world, and ruined it. I dare not believe that. How dare you, who say that God sent His Son into the world to defeat the devil? Tregarva was silent a while. 'Learning and the Gospel together ought to do something, sir, towards mending it.
He was always a good boy till he got along with them poachers. 'Listen, he said, 'listen! There's bells a-ringing ringing in my head. Come you here, Paul Tregarva. He pulled Tregarva's face down to his own, and whispered, 'Them's the bells a-ringing for Miss Honor's wedding. Paul started and drew back.
Tregarva took this as calmly as he did everything else. Only once, on the morning of the eclaircissement between Lancelot and Argemone, he talked to Lancelot of leaving his place, and going out to seek his fortune; but some spell, which he did not explain, seemed to chain him to the Priory.
Lancelot leant against a tree and watched the riot with folded arms, mindful of his promise to Argemone, and envied Tregarva as he hurled his assailants right and left with immense strength, and led the van of battle royally. Little would Argemone have valued the real proof of love which he was giving her as he looked on sulkily, while his fingers tingled with longing to be up and doing.
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