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For once in a way Stansfield's hopefulness deserts him, and he feels the School is in for an out-and-out hiding. The captain would like extremely to blow some one up, if he only knew whom. It is so aggravating sometimes to have no one to blow-up. Nothing relieves the feelings so, does it? However, Stansfield has to bottle up his feelings, and, behold! once more he and his men are in battle array.
In the hall was a marble table bearing a bust of Demosthenes. In the drawing-room were watercolor drawings by artists such as Prout and Stansfield; a group of Dutch paintings, including a fine Van Ostade; sofas, on which Miss Austen might, have sat by the Prince Regent; and scrap-work screens on which faded portraits and landscapes were half eclipsed by quotations from Elegant Extracts.
He was popular among his neighbours, especially among the poorer classes; for whom he had always a pleasant word, as he rode along; and who, in case of illness, knew that they could always be sure of a supply of soup, or a gill of brandy at Netherstock. Among those of his own class it was often a matter of wonder how James Stansfield made both ends meet.
"I am heartily glad to see you again, madame," he said, as Patsey shook him by the hand; "and you too, Monsieur Stansfield. I began to think that I never should do so, and I only wish that Monsieur Jean was here, too. Still, I feel confident that he has got safely away; trust a sailor for getting out of a scrape. You must have gone through a lot, madame, but you don't look any the worse for it."
The lads all straightened themselves up as they marched through the streets, the unwonted spectacle of twenty peasant lads, marching in order, exciting considerable surprise. Cathelineau was standing at the door of the house he occupied, conversing with Messieurs Bonchamp and d'Elbee. "Ah, Monsieur Stansfield," he said, "is it you?" as Leigh halted his party, and raised his hat.
There was a possibility the landlord of the Cockchafer had only come up out of curiosity, and, if so, might not have recognised his young friend among the players. But this delusion was soon dispelled. The ball went again into touch this time close to the spot occupied by the unwelcome group, and was about to be thrown out. Stansfield signalled to Loman. "Go up nearer the line: close up."
Why should they be doing so well and he be doing so ill? "Look at those two beggars!" said Callonby to Stansfield, in a whisper, pointing to Wraysford and Oliver. "There's a neck-and-neck race for you!" So it was. Now Oliver seemed to be getting over the ground quicker, and now Wraysford.
Why, the Doctor gave out another scholarship to be gone in for directly after Christmas, only to-day. Can't he go in for that?" "So he will, I expect," said Wren; "but I don't fancy he'll play, all the same, on Saturday." Stansfield groaned. "There go my two best men," he said; "we may as well shut up shop and go in for croquet."
"We have now had the evidence of Monsieur Stansfield, and those with him, tested by ourselves examining the guns. What do you say, my friends has this man been proved a traitor, or not?" "He has!" the peasants exclaimed, in chorus. "And what is your sentence?" "Death!" was the unanimous reply. "I approve of that sentence. March him down to the side of the river, and shoot him."
Entered here Sergeant Stansfield, and shouted gaily to the housewife, but the moment he looked into her pale and worn face he understood that some sorrow had befallen her. Before he could hold her she had slid silently down on the floor, at his feet, and covered her face. "Ah, ah, ah! O God, help and pity me! They have taken my little son," she cried.
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