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Updated: June 2, 2025
He had, however, gone to Heddington to learn further news of the massacre. He was thinking of his Uncle Benn- all else could wait. His anxiety was infinitely greater than that of Luke Claridge, for his mind had been disturbed by frequent premonitions; and those sudden calls in his sleep-his uncle's voice ever seemed to be waking him at night.
He had found himself replying to a question asked of him in Heddington, as to how he knew that there was a God, in the words of a Muslim quoted by his uncle: "As I know by the tracks in the sand whether a Man or Beast has passed there, so the heaven with its stars, the earth with its fruits, show me that God has passed."
A cloud passed across his face and left it pale. "Of course," he said simply, and went over and touched the heaving shoulders reflectively. "Poor Soolsby!" "He's been sober four years over four," she said eagerly. "When he knew you'd come again, he got wild, and he would have the drink in spite of all. Walking from Heddington, I saw him at the tavern, and brought him home."
The poor people in big working-places like Heddington ain't much better than heathens, leastways as to most things that matter. They haven't got a sensible religion, not one that gets down into what they do. The parson doesn't reach them he talks about church and the sacraments, and they don't get at what good it's going to do them. And the chapel preachers ain't much better.
He had no inherent greatness, no breadth of policy. With less responsibility taken, there would be less trouble, national and international that was his point of view; that had been his view long ago at the meeting at Heddington; and his weak chief had taken it, knowing nothing of the personal elements behind.
There were sly lines of humour about the mouth of the wizened Elder as he spoke, but Luke Claridge did not see. "Pride is far from his heart," he answered portentously. "He will ride in no chariot. He has written that he will walk here from Heddington, and none is to meet him." "He will come by the cross-roads, perhaps," rejoined the other piously.
These words were haunting Hylda's brain when the telegram from the Duchess of Snowdon came. They followed her to Heddington, whither she went in the carriage to bring her visitor to Hamley, and kept repeating themselves at the back of her mind through the cheerful rallying of the Duchess, who spread out the wings of good-humour and motherly freedom over her.
"It seems so long ago," was the reply.... "No need to tell of the journey to London. When I got there it frightened me at first. My head went round. But somehow it came to me what I should do. I asked my way to a hospital. I'd helped a many that was hurt at Heddington and thereabouts, and doctors said I was as good as them that was trained.
I punished him why enlarge?" "Thee is guilty?" "I did the thing." "That is one charge against thee. There are others. Thee was seen to drink of spirits in a public-house at Heddington that day. Twice thrice, like any drunken collier." "Twice," was the prompt correction.
Getting out of the train at Heddington, he made up his mind to walk home by the road that David had taken on his return from Egypt, and he left word at the station that he would send for his luggage. His first objective was Soolsby's hut, and, long before he reached it, darkness had fallen. From a light shining through the crack of the blind he knew that Soolsby was at home.
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