Joseph Smith Fletcher

“ But, of course, it's no good now."
"No, sir," she answered in a low voice.
"I thought to be your lover," he said, "and in time your husband, Elisabeth. Oh, my dear, I love you as truly as ever a man loved a woman in this world. And now, as I can't be either husband or lover, let me be your friend, Elisabeth. Let me help you if I can. Will you?"
"Yes," she said. "I will. Why shouldn't I? There's no one else. You're all the friend I have."
"Good-night, Elisabeth," he said.
"Good-night, Mr. Hepworth," she answered. ”

“ In the foreground lay red-roofed farmsteads, thick woods newly clothed with fresh green, with the spires and towers of many a quiet village peeping above the belts of elm and beech that fenced them in. Hepworth saw the picture, and thanked God for its loveliness. It was in accord with his mood. That day, he thought, must needs be a day of sunlight and gladness, for it was the day before his wedding. On the morrow he was to call Elisabeth wife. On the morrow all life's sweetness was to be blended into perfect happiness for him. ”

“ Elisabeth sighed.
"That's nice," she said, musingly. "A woman can't help liking to be told things like that. But, you know, it makes me anxious lest I shouldn't come up to the standard that's in your mind."
"I don't know how it may be," Hepworth answered. "I know so little of these things, but it seems to me that that's impossible. Perhaps love is a dream, and a dream from which one never wakes. Let us never be awakened, Elisabeth." ”

“ Once Elisabeth had allowed herself to be caught by one of the lads, amidst universal laughter. Hepworth himself had smiled at the lad's sheepish face and at the demure way in which Elisabeth held up her cheek to be kissed. He caught himself wondering what she would say if he kissed her, and turned hot and red at the thought of it. In all his life the only woman's lips that had ever touched his own were the lips of his mother. While he stood by the fire thinking in this unusual way, Elisabeth came in. ”

“ Hepworth began to think. With the power that lay concealed within those shining chambers he could cut the knot that now tied up all the sweet possibilities of life. Verrell was in that lonely grove of trees, absolutely alone, and not a soul in the world knew of his presence there. He was a man already believed to be dead. The law recognised him as dead. He had no friends to enquire for him. The people who saw him drive away with Hepworth from Sicaster would never ask after him, for they knew nothing about him. ”

“ How easy to destroy him, to hide his body, and thus to put an end to the difficulties which his life raised in Hepworth's path!
Hepworth rose and went over to the side-board and poured himself out a stiff glass of whisky from the decanter that stood there. He drank it at a gulp, and sat down again, and played with the revolver and continued to think.
How easy to do it! And why not? Why should he fear? There was no God! God could not play fast and loose with human hearts, and since human hearts were played with in this fashion there was no God. ”

“ But her husband is dead—she is a widow."
"No, sir. Her husband lives."
At these words Hepworth suddenly regained full consciousness of his own being. He felt a fierce throb of anguish that made him stagger and turn sick. He sat down in the nearest chair and looked earnestly at the stranger.
"Proof of it!" he said. "Proof, man—for God's sake!"
The stranger sank his voice to a whisper.
"I trust to you," he said. "You must be an honest man, or Elisabeth—well, then, I am her husband—I am Walter Verrell." ”

“ Why was wickedness permitted to work against the peace and well-being of the innocent? Why did the wicked man flourish as a green-bay tree, while the guiltless worked out his life in tears and sorrow? The thought of it stayed him from offering the formal consolations of religion to the woman before him. To do so would have seemed the right thing to him before that night—after listening to Elisabeth's story it appeared futile, even unfitting. And so he stood there watching her and could think of nothing to say.
Elisabeth rose at last and turned to Hepworth. ”

“ Once out of doors she went further than she had intended. The evening air was cool and delicious to breathe; birds were singing in every hedgerow and coppice, and the laughter of the village children rang in subdued cadences up the low hillsides. She walked on and on, and ere long came to the grove of trees where Hepworth and Verrell had parted.
Verrell, after watching Hepworth drive away, went into the grove and looked for the hut. He found it in the centre of a clearing—a rude, decaying structure of pine-logs, with a thatched roof, gradually falling into ruin and wreck. ”

“ The quiet and regular life of the lonely farmstead had exerted an improving influence upon her—she was by that time a well-favoured, even pretty woman, likely to catch the eye of any man with an eye for beauty. Hepworth noticed this, but paid little heed to it. He was not insensible to physical beauty, and indeed appreciated it keenly as all men who suddenly emerge from loneliness and self-inspection must, but his feeling was deeper, and could not be explained by the fact that Elisabeth had regained her pretty looks and bright eyes. ”

“ Elisabeth was afraid of so much love. It seemed to her that it must lead to sorrow.
"Sometimes," she said, as they walked on, "I wish that you did not love me so much. Of course a woman is proud and glad that a man should think so much about her, but it is possible to think too much, and to estimate a person at too high a value, isn't it?"
"That," answered Hepworth, "is a question that I can't reply to, Elisabeth. What do I know of love, except that I love you?" ”

“ Elisabeth's cheeks were full of colour; her eyes danced with pleasure, smiles curved her lips as she flung the grain amongst the birds at her feet: Hepworth suddenly recognised that she was a pretty and even fascinating woman. He pushed open the door and advanced into the barn: Elisabeth turned and caught sight of him. She stopped singing, and at the same moment the pigeons and sparrows, frightened by Hepworth's entrance, flew away above the trees outside. The fowls stayed there and pecked at the stray grains with undisturbed industry. ”

“ The old farmer was somewhat inclined to tease Hepworth about his marriage, and threw out sundry sly hints as to the sudden frivolities of middle-aged men. Hepworth took all in good part: he was so heartily at peace with himself and all the world that nothing could ruffle the calm sea of his content. He smoked his pipe and laughed at the old man's humour. Half of what was said he did not hear—he was thinking of Elisabeth. Once or twice, glancing round the room he caught sight of the stranger in the corner. ”

“ So far he had thought only of himself; since Verrell's admission of his guilt he had begun to think for the woman he loved.
The horse, wearied and frightened by the harsh treatment it had received, dropped into a slow walk, hanging its head and panting. Hepworth let it go its own way. He sat with folded arms and bowed head, thinking gloomily.
"All is over," he said to himself. "I have lived in a fool's paradise, and now I am turned out of it. I used to wonder at Elisabeth when she first told me of her doubts about God, but now I half believe in what she said. What a mockery is life! ”

“ Every man, woman, and child wore his or her best: every face reflected much application of soap-and-water; every mouth widened to an anticipatory smile. Hepworth carved at one end of the table, and his foreman at the other; Mally and Elisabeth acted as waiters. It had been their particular desire to do so: Hepworth would have wished them to sit down with the rest, but Mally declared that she had no stomach after so much cooking, and Elisabeth had asked to be allowed to share Mally's duties. ”

“ That, said Hepworth, was justice. It was inevitable, nothing could prevent it. Men might sin, they might break law and commandment, and flatter themselves that no eye saw them and that no power could confound them, but their assurance was bound to come to naught. Sin meant death, righteousness meant life. In that there was comfort for those who had been wronged, and there was also warning for the evil-doer.
Hepworth's eyes, watching the faces of his congregation, suddenly caught sight of Elisabeth. ”

“ At the time of Elisabeth's coming to the Home Farm, Hepworth was living his usual quiet and solitary life. He was entirely occupied with his farming, his books and his thoughts. He was in all respects a serious and sober man, taking the colour of his life from the quiet tints that surrounded him on every side, and there was no thought of change within him. ”

“ Then they were silent, Hepworth watching the girl's face, and she looking away from him along the road. As he watched her he could not help contrasting the Elisabeth that he now saw with the Elisabeth of the statute hiring fair. That was a sad-faced Elisabeth, a woman losing her youth and good looks under a cloud of sorrow—this was a girl again, with a happy face and bright eyes and a look of hopefulness.
"You are looking well to-day, Elisabeth," said Hepworth presently. "Against an old fellow like me you look quite a girl. You are getting really beautiful." ”

“ The young women on the Butter-Cross looked at the new-comer with something of wonder and disdain. She was obviously not of their own class, nor fitted for the work which domestic servants are expected to perform in farm-houses. Her pale face and retiring air formed a marked contrast to their own ruddy countenances and confident demeanour. They began to whisper amongst themselves, glancing at the stranger with eyes which were not altogether friendly. ”

“ Why do wicked people flourish and go free, and become prosperous, and those who are innocent suffer for their wickedness? Why, sir?"
Hepworth shook his head. He was neither prepared nor able to answer such a question.
"That's why I couldn't believe those things," said Elisabeth. "I heard them preached and talked about, but it wasn't so in real life."
"We don't know all that God knows," said Hepworth. "It may be that what we call evil is working for good." ”

“ Elisabeth came back after what seemed a long interval, during which he had sat staring at his untasted breakfast. He dare not lift his eyes when he heard her enter the room. She came to his side and laid the open letter before him.
"I know the worst now, sir," she said. "He is dead—there is no doubt."
She turned away and left the room. Hepworth read the letter, and knew why her voice had seemed so full of hopeless sorrow. The news it contained left no room for doubt. Elisabeth was free. He strode about the parlour thinking over it. ”

“ Nevertheless, there were occasions on which Hepworth went into the world. On market and fair days he mixed with men, and transacted his business in a fashion that showed him to be keenly alive to his own interests. He was a scrupulously fair dealer, but was not to be over-reached or deceived. Those who knew him as farmer and business man spoke highly and admiringly of his capabilities; he was, they said, the man to make money and to keep it. But in addition to being a strict man of business, Hepworth was also a man of religion. ”