TWO PLEADERS

THE tidings that the dragoons were on their way to Littleport had hardly spread sufficiently in the forenoon to draw together great quantities of spectators, but after they had gone by it was otherwise. The news flew like wildfire over the Fens, and the inhabitants of the district came in troops and lined the road, so that they might have the satisfaction of seeing the military, and taking account of the number of prisoners they had taken.

The fen-folk are all more or less closely connected by marriage, forming a people to themselves, separate in interests, customs, and character from those who live on the high grounds. They have been wont for generations to seek their mates among themselves, with the result that a close family connection binds the whole population together. The number of cases in the Fens in which a woman, on marriage, retains her maiden name is quite unequalled elsewhere. Whoever might be taken up by the military was certain to be akin to some of the lookers-on, and therefore the spectacle anticipated on the return of the dragoons was calculated to engage their interest and excite their sympathies.

Among the yeomen there is intermarriage with cousins for the sake of adding acre to acre and barn to barn, but among the labouring population no such inducement prevails. They choose their wives from among their blood relatives, because the idea never crosses their minds to go elsewhere to find mates. They must marry cousins or not marry at all, and the question resolves itself in one of degrees of consanguinity.

As nearly, if not all, the wealthy landowners are grandsons or great-grandsons of half-wild fen-slodgers, it follows that they are knitted by blood ties to the labourers they employ. This does not necessarily increase good fellowship, nor promote forbearance. The purse-proud yeoman is the harshest master. He draws the line of sympathy at the mark of the class to which he belongs, a class of recent creation. He holds fast to his brother yeoman, and both together grind down their brother labourer.

This condition of affairs was of course more noticeable formerly than at present. Each generation separates the well-to-do a step farther from their poor relations. Our story refers to events and conditions some decades ago.

On account of the tyranny exercised by the masters, little consideration was felt for them by the men when they broke out in revolt, although allied to them by blood; and the stacks that had been fired were in several instances set in flames by the blood relatives of the owners of the stacks.

As the dragoons trotted along the road towards Ely, exclamations and lamentations broke out as the men they had taken were recognised by those who lined the highway.

'There is Robert Cheesewright! Oh dear! what will the old Robert do without him?'

'Be still. They have not taken Robert. He is going as a witness against Pip Beamish. That's why he is there.'

'Well, they have handcuffed James Cammel, anyhow, and he was going to marry my Beulah. If they hang him, Beulah will have to take Aaron Layton instead, that's all.'

'There is Joseph Lavender. He is my wife's son by her first husband. She will take on dreadful, and I shan't have my shirt properly washed, nor my pasty full baked—that's what it means to me.'

'They have taken Flanders Hopkins and Richard Rutter.'

'Yes; and look you there. That's Isaac Harley, as was in the waggon. I wish I had Isaac's gun, I'd shoot the chap that has charge of him. How ever came Isaac to be taken?'

'Ay; and he is cuffed to Joseph Stibbard.'

'Stibbard broke into the parson's house at Littleport, and took his silver spoons and money.'

'He needed them more than did the parson.'

'Of course he did, and had a right to take them. Joseph Stibbard's sister married my nephew, Philip Easy. I hope he handed on the spoons to her before the soldiers took him.'

Such were the comments passed. Some of those looking on endeavoured to push between the soldiers, and get at their relatives who were being conveyed to prison, but were repelled by their guards. Comments of another sort were expressed less loudly, though not less frankly.

'There rides Drownlands. He has been along with the dragoons all the day. He has been pointing out whom they are to take; and if there is hanging to be done, i' fecks! it is he who has twisted the rope for their necks, poor fellows.'

'I knew he was out and about all last night.'

'Yes, and has been all this morning with the magistrates. But they haven't taken Pip Beamish yet.'

'I am sure they would be put to it for witnesses, if it were not for Tiger Ki. Which of us would peach? Wouldn't we do the other thing, and swear 'em off?'

'You are right there. I suppose Ki Drownlands knows what he is doing. But I reckon that this will be remembered against him, and he will be paid out for it some day or other.'

'Trust our chaps for that, and the day will not be distant.'

Drownlands observed the sullen looks, the scowls with which he was greeted, and noticed the whispers that passed as he rode by, but treated all with indifference or contempt.

'They do not love me. I scoff at them,' said he to Sir Bates Dudley. 'They have done their worst. We are clearing the Fens of the only lads with any spirit in them to do mischief. Those that remain are arrant cowards.'

Then he turned his horse's head down the drove to Prickwillow. 'I am not needed till to-morrow. Here is my home.'

His eye lighted on Zita, who had come forth to see the soldiers pass with their prisoners. Near her were Mrs. Tunkiss, Sarah, and the farm serving-men.

Zita uttered an exclamation and ran forward, caught Drownlands' horse by the bridle, and exclaimed—

'What is the meaning of this? Why is Mark Runham taken? This is your doing.'

'Why not? He headed the rioters.'

'He did not head them. It is false. You know it is so. Set him at liberty at once.'

'I cannot do that. He has been arrested. He will appear before the magistrates to-morrow.'

'Very well, so will I. I can bear witness as well as you.'

Then Zita darted nimbly between the soldiers, in spite of their protests, which were not roughly enforced, for the quick eyes of the dragoons saw that she was pretty. She made her way to Mark, who was handcuffed.

'Mark,' said she, 'I will help you.'

'You?' he answered. 'You said it was all one to you whether I were hanged or transported. I am innocent, and will be discharged without your help.'

'Back!' ordered the dragoon on the right, and Zita was forced to retreat.

As she did so, she saw Kainie by Drownlands. The girl had seized his bridle, and was gesticulating with vehemence.

'It is your doing,' said Kerenhappuch. 'You hate him. You try to destroy him. You are heaping to yourself wrath against the day of wrath.'

'Let go my bridle,' ordered Drownlands.

'You are my uncle,' insisted the girl, her fair hair blown over her face. With one hand she brushed it back, but did not release her hold on the bridle. 'Although you have not treated me as of like flesh and blood with yourself, yet you cannot undo it; I am your niece, and speak to you I will, now.'

'Let go, I say. I will hold no communication with you.' He struck his spurs into the sides of his horse, which reared. But Kainie would not let go. The plunging of the horse made the curb nip and cut Kainie's hand, and some blood came over it. She changed hands on the bridle.

'Look!' said she. 'You cannot help it. This is Drownlands blood. It is Drownlands blood appeals to you now.'

Then Zita laid her hand on the bridle, on the farther side of the beast.

'We are two girls,' she said, 'and we will stay you, man though you be. Kainie and I are enemies, we do not love each other, but we unite in beseeching you to do justice to one man.'

'Ay,' said the mill-girl. 'Uncle Ki, you are bent on evil, and we will hold you back against plunging farther into the slough.'

'Mark never intended to injure you,' said the Cheap Jack girl. 'He sought to save your property for you. Why should you work for his destruction?'

'You shall withdraw your charge against him before all the world,' said Kainie.

'You shall break the shackles off his hands yourself,' said Zita.

Drownlands dug his spurs wrathfully into the flanks of the horse, and clenched his teeth and hands. But though the beast was wounded and bounded, his head was held too firmly for him to break away.

'Shall I grip your foot till you scream,' exclaimed Zita, 'as I did on the night when I stayed you before?'

'Will you kill Mark, as you killed his father?' asked Kainie.

Her words were random words. She spoke in the vehemence of her wrath against Drownlands, and anxiety for Runham. She knew nothing definite against her uncle, but she had heard the whispered gossip of the Fens.

'I will have justice on all who have wronged me,' muttered Drownlands.

'Take care!' exclaimed Kainie, raising the disengaged hand, down which ran a trickle of blood. 'Do not think that because some of the poor lads have been taken, because ten out of one hundred are handcuffed, that every heart that is full of bitterness is beating behind prison walls, and every hand that can be raised against you is fettered. There are ninety pairs for every ten you put in iron cuffs, and they will be clenched in rage and resolve of revenge the day that you send the poor fellows to the gallows.'

'I fear them not,' said Drownlands scornfully.

'You may not fear, but that is because, like Pharaoh, your heart is hardened and your eyes are blinded, and the Lord is driving you to your destruction. I am here to stand between you—I, as your niece—between you and what threatens.'

'What threatens?'

'You are threatened.'

'Who threatens me?'

'Pip Beamish for one.'

'Ha! he will be arrested speedily.'

'No, not speedily. He is not taken yet, and till he is taken you are not safe.'

'I will see that he be not at large for long. Before this week is out he will be in prison.'

'That may be a few days too many for you.'

'I fear not your Pip Beamish; your braggarts do nothing.'

'No, braggarts do nothing; but Pip is no braggart.'

'It is my turn now,' said Zita. 'You, Kainie, have tried and have failed. Leave him to me. I can employ reasons that are stronger than yours. Let go your hold of the horse's head. You have said your say. Now I will say mine. But none must hear us.'

Kainie reluctantly released the bit. Then Zita, still with her hand on the bridle, strode in the direction of Prickwillow, leading the horse, and some of the people congregated on the drove looked after her and the master, and laughed.

'He has found his mistress,' said one man, nudging his fellow.

'Ay, and is following her lead like a lamb,' replied the man who had been nudged.

'Who leads today will drive to-morrow,' said a third.

'Is he going to marry her?' asked the first.

The man addressed shrugged his shoulders and said, 'No money. Drownlands is not such a fool as that.'

None of this was heard by Zita, who did not relax her hold, nor turn to look at those who were left in the road. The master suffered her to conduct him towards the house without making remonstrance.