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Updated: May 8, 2025
They proclaimed that solitary duty the world still held for him; they marked out his road to the lurid end of it. Thus Noy's own furious lust for revenge was easily and naturally elevated into a mandate from the Highest into a message echoed and reiterated upon his ear by the multitudinous voices of that wild night.
The end of Noy's match fell red-hot on John Barron's face. Then he turned as footsteps sounded; the curtains were moved aside and the footman reappeared, followed by another person. "Why, you wasn't the undertaker after all!" he explained. "Did you think the man was alive? Good Lord! But you've found him anyway." "Iss, I thot he was alive. I wanted to see en livin' an' leave en " he stopped.
He copied her father so exactly, and she, who lived with the real thunder, never could show sufficient gravity or conviction in the presence of the youthful and narrow-minded Noy's second-hand echoes.
So Sergeant Basket that was his name gave the salute, and rode his troop up the street, where for his manners were mighty winning, notwithstanding the dirty nature of his errand he soon found plenty to direct him to Farmer Noy's, of Constantine; and up the coombe they rode into the darkness, a dozen or more going along with them to show the way, being won by their martial bearing as well as the sergeant's very friendly way of speech.
There was no space now vacant in Noy's brain to hold the full extent of his loss; and the fabric of happiness which for weary months on various seas he had been building up in imagination, and which a madman's word had now sent spinning to chaos, yet remained curiously with him, as an impression stamped by steadfast gazing remains upon the eye.
"The man must face sorrer same as what us all have got to, Mrs. Tregenza. Some gets more, some gets less, as the sparks fly up'ard. Joe Noy's got religion tu." Mary spoke the last words with some bitterness, which she noted too late and set against herself for a sin. "Oh, my dear sawl," said Mrs. Tregenza, looking round nervously, as though she feared the shadow of her husband might be listening.
Bad characters, sir? I hope not. We keep no highway robbers in this parish." He faced us, rush-lamp in hand, in his great vaulted kitchen, and the light fell on an honest, puzzled face. As for Mr. Noy's face, I regret to say that it fell when he heard this vindication of his flock. "I brought ye into the kitchen, sirs," went on Farmer Menhennick, "because 'tis cosier.
He'd grawed to be a shadder of a man in my mind; but now I sees en real flaish'n blood; an' maybe maybe he'll seek me out an' kill me for what's done." "I do creem to hear 'e, gal! No, no, Joe Noy's a God fearin' sawl." "If he'd forgive me fust, I'd so soon he killed me as not. Sam Martin killed Widow Garth's gal 'cause she were ontrue to en; an' a many said 'twas wrong to hang en to Bodmin.
The man-servant whom he had seen through the area railings in the kitchen came to the door, and, much to Noy's astonishment, accosted him before he had time to say that he wished to see the master of the house. "You've come at last, then," said the man. Joe regarded him with surprise, then spoke. "I want to see Mr. John Barron, please." The other laughed, as if this was an admirable jest.
The force of circumstances and the futility of fighting against fate impressed Thomasin mightily now, as Noy's wild eyes asked the question his lips could not force themselves to frame.
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