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Reuben wandered down into the road, strolled up and down for nearly an hour, while the sun set and the light waned, went as far as the corner by Wigson's farm, asked a passer-by, saw and heard nothing, and came back, shaking his head in answer to his wife's shrill interrogations.
Any fool such as 'Wigson's Em'ly' could earn nine shillings a week at tailoring; and to make money at your stomach's expense seemed suddenly to put you in possession of a bank on which the largest drawings were possible. It all looked so ingenious, so feasible, so wholly within the grip of that indomitable will the child felt tense within her. So the two sat gazing out over the moorland.
Why complicate and cumber life with relations that do but give a foothold to pain, and offer less than they threaten? There is smoke rising from Wigson's, and figures moving in the yard. Caution! keep close under the wall.
With a furious oath Jim placed a hand on the bar, vaulted it, and fell upon the lad. David defended himself blindly, but he was dazed with drink, and his blows and kicks rained aimlessly on Wigson's iron frame. In a second or two Jim had tripped him up, and stood over him, his face ablaze with vengeance and conquest. 'Yo yoong varmint yo cantin yoong hypocrite!
A sudden alarm seized him, lest Reuben should be caught by it, put two and two together and understand. But Reuben was absorbed in a discomfort, half moral, half superstitious, and nothing else reached the slow brain which was besides preoccupied by Jim Wigson's suggestion. After a bit he picked up his stick and went on again.
'Now then, she said at last, turning him into the lane, 'yo know your way, an I mun goo, or they'll be raisin the parish arter me. Gude neet to yo, an keep out o' Wigson's seet. Rest yursel a bit theer agen th' wall.
Some persons from the parlour crowded in, enjoying the fun. David did not see them. He reached out his hand for the glass he had just emptied, and steadying himself by a mighty effort, flung it swift and straight in Jim Wigson's face. There was a crash of fragments, a line of blood appeared on the young carter's chin, and a chorus of wrath and alarm rose from the group behind him.
'Uncle Reuben! he shouted, stopping the noise for a moment, 'Uncle Reuben, Louie's turned sick! She's clemmed wi t' cold. If yo doan't open th' door, I'll go across to Wigson's, and tell 'em as Louie's parishin, an yo're bein th' death on her. The bolt shot back, and there stood Reuben, his red hair sticking up wildly from his head, his frame shaking with unusual excitement.
The servants were tired after Mrs Wigson's party, so every one went to bed early, and when the Phoenix reported that both servants were snoring in a heartfelt and candid manner, the children got up they had never undressed; just putting their nightgowns on over their things had been enough to deceive Eliza when she came to turn out the gas.
Hannah scanned her niece all over with a slow, observant scrutiny, as though she were a dangerous animal that must be watched. Otherwise Louie might have spoken to the wall for all the effect she produced. Reuben, however, was more vulnerable. 'What d' yo want to be at Wigson's for? he asked. 'Yo should be content wi your state o' life, Louie.
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