XXXIII
John Crumb
Sir Felix Carbury made an appointment for meeting Ruby Ruggles a second time at the bottom of the kitchen-garden belonging to Sheep’s Acre farm, which appointment he neglected, and had, indeed, made without any intention of keeping it. But Ruby was there, and remained hanging about among the cabbages till her grandfather returned from Harlestone market. An early hour had been named; but hours may be mistaken, and Ruby had thought that a fine gentleman, such as was her lover, used to live among fine people up in London, might well mistake the afternoon for the morning. If he would come at all she could easily forgive such a mistake. But he did not come, and late in the afternoon she was obliged to obey her grandfather’s summons as he called her into the house.
After that for three weeks she heard nothing of her London lover, but she was always thinking of him;‚ÅÝ‚Äîand though she could not altogether avoid her country lover, she was in his company as little as possible. One afternoon her grandfather returned from Bungay and told her that her country lover was coming to see her. ‚ÄúJohn Crumb be a coming over by-and-by,‚Äù said the old man. ‚ÄúSee and have a bit o‚Äô supper ready for him.‚Äù
“John Crumb coming here, grandfather? He’s welcome to stay away then, for me.”
“That be dommed.” The old man thrust his old hat on to his head and seated himself in a wooden armchair that stood by the kitchen-fire. Whenever he was angry he put on his hat, and the custom was well understood by Ruby. “Why not welcome, and he all one as your husband? Look ye here, Ruby, I’m going to have an eend o’ this. John Crumb is to marry you next month, and the banns is to be said.”
“The parson may say what he pleases, grandfather. I can’t stop his saying of ’em. It isn’t likely I shall try, neither. But no parson among ’em all can marry me without I’m willing.”
“And why should you no be willing, you contrairy young jade, you?”
“You’ve been a’ drinking, grandfather.”
He turned round at her sharp, and threw his old hat at her head;‚ÅÝ‚Äînothing to Ruby‚Äôs consternation, as it was a practice to which she was well accustomed. She picked it up, and returned it to him with a cool indifference which was intended to exasperate him. ‚ÄúLook ye here, Ruby,‚Äù he said, ‚Äúout o‚Äô this place you go. If you go as John Crumb‚Äôs wife you‚Äôll go with five hun‚Äôerd pound, and we‚Äôll have a dinner here, and a dance, and all Bungay.‚Äù
‚ÄúWho cares for all Bungay‚ÅÝ‚Äîa set of beery chaps as knows nothing but swilling and smoking;‚ÅÝ‚Äîand John Crumb the main of ‚Äôem all? There never was a chap for beer like John Crumb.‚Äù
“Never saw him the worse o’ liquor in all my life.” And the old farmer, as he gave this grand assurance, rattled his fist down upon the table.
“It ony just makes him stupider and stupider the more he swills. You can’t tell me, grandfather, about John Crumb. I knows him.”
“Didn’t ye say as how ye’d have him? Didn’t ye give him a promise?”
‚ÄúIf I did, I ain‚Äôt the first girl as has gone back of her word‚ÅÝ‚Äîand I shan‚Äôt be the last.‚Äù
“You means you won’t have him?”
“That’s about it, grandfather.”
‚ÄúThen you‚Äôll have to have somebody to fend for ye, and that pretty sharp‚ÅÝ‚Äîfor you won‚Äôt have me.‚Äù
“There ain’t no difficulty about that, grandfather.”
“Very well. He’s a coming here tonight, and you may settle it along wi’ him. Out o’ this ye shall go. I know of your doings.”
“What doings! You don’t know of no doings. There ain’t no doings. You don’t know nothing ag’in me.”
‚ÄúHe‚Äôs a coming here tonight, and if you can make it up wi‚Äô him, well and good. There‚Äôs five hun‚Äôerd pound, and ye shall have the dinner and the dance and all Bungay. He ain‚Äôt a going to be put off no longer;‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe ain‚Äôt.‚Äù
“Whoever wanted him to be put on? Let him go his own gait.”
‚ÄúIf you can‚Äôt make it up wi‚Äô him‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Well, grandfather, I shan’t anyways.”
‚ÄúLet me have my say, will ye, yer jade, you? There‚Äôs five hun‚Äôerd pound! and there ain‚Äôt ere a farmer in Suffolk or Norfolk paying rent for a bit of land like this can do as well for his darter as that‚ÅÝ‚Äîlet alone only a granddarter. You never thinks o‚Äô that;‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou don‚Äôt. If you don‚Äôt like to take it‚ÅÝ‚Äîleave it. But you‚Äôll leave Sheep‚Äôs Acre too.‚Äù
“Bother Sheep’s Acre. Who wants to stop at Sheep’s Acre? It’s the stupidest place in all England.”
“Then find another. Then find another. That’s all aboot it. John Crumb’s a coming up for a bit o’ supper. You tell him your own mind. I’m dommed if I trouble aboot it. On’y you don’t stay here. Sheep’s Acre ain’t good enough for you, and you’d best find another home. Stupid, is it? You’ll have to put up wi’ places stupider nor Sheep’s Acre, afore you’ve done.”
In regard to the hospitality promised to Mr.¬ÝCrumb, Miss Ruggles went about her work with sufficient alacrity. She was quite willing that the young man should have a supper, and she did understand that, so far as the preparation of the supper went, she owed her service to her grandfather. She therefore went to work herself, and gave directions to the servant girl who assisted her in keeping her grandfather‚Äôs house. But as she did this, she determined that she would make John Crumb understand that she would never be his wife. Upon that she was now fully resolved. As she went about the kitchen, taking down the ham and cutting the slices that were to be broiled, and as she trussed the fowl that was to be boiled for John Crumb, she made mental comparisons between him and Sir Felix Carbury. She could see, as though present to her at the moment, the mealy, floury head of the one, with hair stiff with perennial dust from his sacks, and the sweet glossy dark well-combed locks of the other, so bright, so seductive, that she was ever longing to twine her fingers among them. And she remembered the heavy, flat, broad honest face of the mealman, with his mouth slow in motion, and his broad nose looking like a huge white promontory, and his great staring eyes, from the corners of which he was always extracting meal and grit;‚ÅÝ‚Äîand then also she remembered the white teeth, the beautiful soft lips, the perfect eyebrows, and the rich complexion of her London lover. Surely a lease of Paradise with the one, though but for one short year, would be well purchased at the price of a life with the other! ‚ÄúIt‚Äôs no good going against love,‚Äù she said to herself, ‚Äúand I won‚Äôt try. He shall have his supper, and be told all about it, and then go home. He cares more for his supper than he do for me.‚Äù And then, with this final resolution firmly made, she popped the fowl into the pot. Her grandfather wanted her to leave Sheep‚Äôs Acre. Very well. She had a little money of her own, and would take herself off to London. She knew what people would say, but she cared nothing for old women‚Äôs tales. She would know how to take care of herself, and could always say in her own defence that her grandfather had turned her out of Sheep‚Äôs Acre.
Seven had been the hour named, and punctually at that hour John Crumb knocked at the back door of Sheep‚Äôs Acre farmhouse. Nor did he come alone. He was accompanied by his friend Joe Mixet, the baker of Bungay, who, as all Bungay knew, was to be his best man at his marriage. John Crumb‚Äôs character was not without many fine attributes. He could earn money‚ÅÝ‚Äîand having earned it could spend and keep it in fair proportion. He was afraid of no work, and‚ÅÝ‚Äîto give him his due‚ÅÝ‚Äîwas afraid of no man. He was honest, and ashamed of nothing that he did. And after his fashion he had chivalrous ideas about women. He was willing to thrash any man that ill-used a woman, and would certainly be a most dangerous antagonist to any man who would misuse a woman belonging to him. But Ruby had told the truth of him in saying that he was slow of speech, and what the world calls stupid in regard to all forms of expression. He knew good meal from bad as well as any man, and the price at which he could buy it so as to leave himself a fair profit at the selling. He knew the value of a clear conscience, and without much argument had discovered for himself that honesty is in truth the best policy. Joe Mixet, who was dapper of person and glib of tongue, had often declared that anyone buying John Crumb for a fool would lose his money. Joe Mixet was probably right; but there had been a want of prudence, a lack of worldly sagacity, in the way in which Crumb had allowed his proposed marriage with Ruby Ruggles to become a source of gossip to all Bungay. His love was now an old affair; and, though he never talked much, whenever he did talk, he talked about that. He was proud of Ruby‚Äôs beauty, and of her fortune, and of his own status as her acknowledged lover‚ÅÝ‚Äîand he did not hide his light under a bushel. Perhaps the publicity so produced had some effect in prejudicing Ruby against the man whose offer she had certainly once accepted. Now when he came to settle the day‚ÅÝ‚Äîhaving heard more than once or twice that there was a difficulty with Ruby‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe brought his friend Mixet with him as though to be present at his triumph. ‚ÄúIf here isn‚Äôt Joe Mixet,‚Äù said Ruby to herself. ‚ÄúWas there ever such a stupid as John Crumb? There‚Äôs no end to his being stupid.‚Äù
The old man had slept off his anger and his beer while Ruby had been preparing the feast, and now roused himself to entertain his guests. ‚ÄúWhat, Joe Mixet; is that thou? Thou‚Äôrt welcome. Come in, man. Well, John, how is it wi‚Äô you? Ruby‚Äôs a stewing o‚Äô something for us to eat a bit. Don‚Äôt ‚Äôe smell it?‚Äù‚ÅÝ‚ÄîJohn Crumb lifted up his great nose, sniffed and grinned.
“John didn’t like going home in the dark like,” said the baker, with his little joke. “So I just come along to drive away the bogies.”
‚ÄúThe more the merrier;‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe more the merrier. Ruby‚Äôll have enough for the two o‚Äô you, I‚Äôll go bail. So John Crumb‚Äôs afraid of bogies;‚ÅÝ‚Äîis he? The more need he to have some ‚Äôun in his house to scart ‚Äôem away.‚Äù
The lover had seated himself without speaking a word; but now he was instigated to ask a question. ‚ÄúWhere be she, Muster Ruggles?‚Äù They were seated in the outside or front kitchen, in which the old man and his granddaughter always lived; while Ruby was at work in the back kitchen. As John Crumb asked this question she could be heard distinctly among the pots and the plates. She now came out, and wiping her hands on her apron, shook hands with the two young men. She had enveloped herself in a big household apron when the cooking was in hand, and had not cared to take it off for the greeting of this lover. ‚ÄúGrandfather said as how you was a coming out for your supper, so I‚Äôve been a seeing to it. You‚Äôll excuse the apron, Mr.¬ÝMixet.‚Äù
“You couldn’t look nicer, miss, if you was to try it ever so. My mother says as it’s housifery as recommends a girl to the young men. What do you say, John?”
“I loiks to see her loik o’ that,” said John rubbing his hands down the back of his trousers, and stooping till he had brought his eyes down to a level with those of his sweetheart.
“It looks homely; don’t it, John?” said Mixet.
“Bother!” said Ruby, turning round sharp, and going back to the other kitchen. John Crumb turned round also, and grinned at his friend, and then grinned at the old man.
‚ÄúYou‚Äôve got it all afore you,‚Äù said the farmer‚ÅÝ‚Äîleaving the lover to draw what lesson he might from this oracular proposition.
‚ÄúAnd I don‚Äôt care how soon I ha‚Äôe it in hond;‚ÅÝ‚Äîthat I don‚Äôt,‚Äù said John.
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs the chat,‚Äù said Joe Mixet. ‚ÄúThere ain‚Äôt nothing wanting in his house;‚ÅÝ‚Äîis there, John? It‚Äôs all there‚ÅÝ‚Äîcradle, caudle-cup, and the rest of it. A young woman going to John knows what she‚Äôll have to eat when she gets up, and what she‚Äôll lie down upon when she goes to bed.‚Äù This he declared in a loud voice for the benefit of Ruby in the back kitchen.
“That she do,” said John, grinning again. “There’s a hun’erd and fifty poond o’ things in my house forbye what mother left behind her.”
After this there was no more conversation till Ruby reappeared with the boiled fowl, and without her apron. She was followed by the girl with a dish of broiled ham and an enormous pyramid of cabbage. Then the old man got up slowly and opening some private little door of which he kept the key in his breeches pocket, drew a jug of ale and placed it on the table. And from a cupboard of which he also kept the key, he brought out a bottle of gin. Everything being thus prepared, the three men sat round the table, John Crumb looking at his chair again and again before he ventured to occupy it. ‚ÄúIf you‚Äôll sit yourself down, I‚Äôll give you a bit of something to eat,‚Äù said Ruby at last. Then he sank at once into his chair. Ruby cut up the fowl standing, and dispensed the other good things, not even placing a chair for herself at the table‚ÅÝ‚Äîand apparently not expected to do so, for no one invited her. ‚ÄúIs it to be spirits or ale, Mr.¬ÝCrumb?‚Äù she said, when the other two men had helped themselves. He turned round and gave her a look of love that might have softened the heart of an Amazon; but instead of speaking he held up his tumbler, and bobbed his head at the beer jug. Then she filled it to the brim, frothing it in the manner in which he loved to have it frothed. He raised it to his mouth slowly, and poured the liquor in as though to a vat. Then she filled it again. He had been her lover, and she would be as kind to him as she knew how‚ÅÝ‚Äîshort of love.
There was a good deal of eating done, for more ham came in, and another mountain of cabbage; but very little or nothing was said. John Crumb ate whatever was given to him of the fowl, sedulously picking the bones, and almost swallowing them; and then finished the second dish of ham, and after that the second instalment of cabbage. He did not ask for more beer, but took it as often as Ruby replenished his glass. When the eating was done, Ruby retired into the back kitchen, and there regaled herself with some bone or merry-thought of the fowl, which she had with prudence reserved, sharing her spoils however with the other maiden. This she did standing, and then went to work, cleaning the dishes. The men lit their pipes and smoked in silence, while Ruby went through her domestic duties. So matters went on for half an hour; during which Ruby escaped by the back door, went round into the house, got into her own room, and formed the grand resolution of going to bed. She began her operations in fear and trembling, not being sure but that her grandfather would bring the man upstairs to her. As she thought of this she stayed her hand, and looked to the door. She knew well that there was no bolt there. It would be terrible to her to be invaded by John Crumb after his fifth or sixth glass of beer. And, she declared to herself, that should he come he would be sure to bring Joe Mixet with him to speak his mind for him. So she paused and listened.
When they had smoked for some half hour the old man called for his granddaughter, but called of course in vain. ‚ÄúWhere the mischief is the jade gone?‚Äù he said, slowly making his way into the back kitchen. The maid as soon as she heard her master moving, escaped into the yard and made no response, while the old man stood bawling at the back door. ‚ÄúThe devil‚Äôs in them. They‚Äôre off some gates,‚Äù he said aloud. ‚ÄúShe‚Äôll make the place hot for her, if she goes on this way.‚Äù Then he returned to the two young men. ‚ÄúShe‚Äôs playing off her games somwheres,‚Äù he said. ‚ÄúTake a glass of sperrits and water, Mr.¬ÝCrumb, and I‚Äôll see after her.‚Äù
“I’ll just take a drop of y’ell,” said John Crumb, apparently quite unmoved by the absence of his sweetheart.
It was sad work for the old man. He went down the yard and into the garden, hobbling among the cabbages, not daring to call very loud, as he did not wish to have it supposed that the girl was lost; but still anxious, and sore at heart as to the ingratitude shown to him. He was not bound to give the girl a home at all. She was not his own child. And he had offered her £500! “Domm her,” he said aloud as he made his way back to the house. After much search and considerable loss of time he returned to the kitchen in which the two men were sitting, leading Ruby in his hand. She was not smart in her apparel, for she had half undressed herself, and been then compelled by her grandfather to make herself fit to appear in public. She had acknowledged to herself that she had better go down and tell John Crumb the truth. For she was still determined that she would never be John Crumb’s wife. “You can answer him as well as I, grandfather,” she had said. Then the farmer had cuffed her, and told her that she was an idiot. “Oh, if it comes to that,” said Ruby, “I’m not afraid of John Crumb, nor yet of nobody else. Only I didn’t think you’d go to strike me, grandfather.” “I’ll knock the life out of thee, if thou goest on this gate,” he had said. But she had consented to come down, and they entered the room together.
‚ÄúWe‚Äôre a disturbing you a‚Äômost too late, miss,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝMixet.
‚ÄúIt ain‚Äôt that at all, Mr.¬ÝMixet. If grandfather chooses to have a few friends, I ain‚Äôt nothing against it. I wish he‚Äôd have a few friends a deal oftener than he do. I likes nothing better than to do for ‚Äôem;‚ÅÝ‚Äîonly when I‚Äôve done for ‚Äôem and they‚Äôre smoking their pipes and that like, I don‚Äôt see why I ain‚Äôt to leave ‚Äôem to ‚Äôemselves.‚Äù
“But we’ve come here on a hauspicious occasion, Miss Ruby.”
‚ÄúI don‚Äôt know nothing about auspicious, Mr.¬ÝMixet. If you and Mr.¬ÝCrumb‚Äôve come out to Sheep‚Äôs Acre farm for a bit of supper‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúWhich we ain‚Äôt,‚Äù said John Crumb very loudly;‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äúnor yet for beer;‚ÅÝ‚Äînot by no means.‚Äù
“We’ve come for the smiles of beauty,” said Joe Mixet.
Ruby chucked up her head. ‚ÄúMr.¬ÝMixet, if you‚Äôll be so good as to stow that! There ain‚Äôt no beauty here as I knows of, and if there was it isn‚Äôt nothing to you.‚Äù
“Except in the way of friendship,” said Mixet.
‚ÄúI‚Äôm just as sick of all this as a man can be,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝRuggles, who was sitting low in his chair, with his back bent, and his head forward. ‚ÄúI won‚Äôt put up with it no more.‚Äù
‚ÄúWho wants you to put up with it?‚Äù said Ruby. ‚ÄúWho wants ‚Äôem to come here with their trash? Who brought ‚Äôem tonight? I don‚Äôt know what business Mr.¬ÝMixet has interfering along o‚Äô me. I never interfere along o‚Äô him.‚Äù
“John Crumb, have you anything to say?” asked the old man.
Then John Crumb slowly arose from his chair, and stood up at his full height. “I hove,” said he, swinging his head to one side.
“Then say it.”
“I will,” said he. He was still standing bolt upright with his hands down by his side. Then he stretched out his left to his glass which was half full of beer, and strengthened himself as far as that would strengthen him. Having done this he slowly deposited the pipe which he still held in his right hand.
“Now speak your mind, like a man,” said Mixet.
“I intends it,” said John. But he still stood dumb, looking down upon old Ruggles, who from his crouched position was looking up at him. Ruby was standing with both her hands upon the table and her eyes intent upon the wall over the fireplace.
‚ÄúYou‚Äôve asked Miss Ruby to be your wife a dozen times;‚ÅÝ‚Äîhaven‚Äôt you, John?‚Äù suggested Mixet.
“I hove.”
“And you mean to be as good as your word?”
“I do.”
“And she has promised to have you?”
“She hove.”
‚ÄúMore nor once or twice?‚Äù To this proposition Crumb found it only necessary to bob his head. ‚ÄúYou‚Äôre ready‚ÅÝ‚Äîand willing?‚Äù
“I om.”
“You’re wishing to have the banns said without any more delay?”
‚ÄúThere ain‚Äôt no delay ‚Äôbout me;‚ÅÝ‚Äînever was.‚Äù
“Everything is ready in your own house?”
“They is.”
“And you will expect Miss Ruby to come to the scratch?”
“I sholl.”
‚ÄúThat‚Äôs about it, I think,‚Äù said Joe Mixet, turning to the grandfather. ‚ÄúI don‚Äôt think there was ever anything much more straightforward than that. You know, I know, Miss Ruby knows all about John Crumb. John Crumb didn‚Äôt come to Bungay yesterday‚ÅÝ‚Äînor yet the day before. There‚Äôs been a talk of five hundred pounds, Mr.¬ÝRuggles.‚Äù Mr.¬ÝRuggles made a slight gesture of assent with his head. ‚ÄúFive hundred pounds is very comfortable; and added to what John has will make things that snug that things never was snugger. But John Crumb isn‚Äôt after Miss Ruby along of her fortune.‚Äù
“Nohow’s,” said the lover, shaking his head and still standing upright with his hands by his side.
‚ÄúNot he;‚ÅÝ‚Äîit isn‚Äôt his ways, and them as knows him‚Äôll never say it of him. John has a heart in his buzsom.‚Äù
“I has,” said John, raising his hand a little above his stomach.
‚ÄúAnd feelings as a man. It‚Äôs true love as has brought John Crumb to Sheep‚Äôs Acre farm this night;‚ÅÝ‚Äîlove of that young lady, if she‚Äôll let me make so free. He‚Äôs a proposed to her, and she‚Äôs a haccepted him, and now it‚Äôs about time as they was married. That‚Äôs what John Crumb has to say.‚Äù
“That’s what I has to say,” repeated John Crumb, “and I means it.”
“And now, miss,” continued Mixet, addressing himself to Ruby, “you’ve heard what John has to say.”
‚ÄúI‚Äôve heard you, Mr.¬ÝMixet, and I‚Äôve heard quite enough.‚Äù
‚ÄúYou can‚Äôt have anything to say against it, miss; can you? There‚Äôs your grandfather as is willing, and the money as one may say counted out‚ÅÝ‚Äîand John Crumb is willing, with his house so ready that there isn‚Äôt a ha‚Äôporth to do. All we want is for you to name the day.‚Äù
“Say tomorrow, Ruby, and I’ll not be agon it,” said John Crumb, slapping his thigh.
‚ÄúI won‚Äôt say tomorrow, Mr.¬ÝCrumb, nor yet the day after tomorrow, nor yet no day at all. I‚Äôm not going to have you. I‚Äôve told you as much before.‚Äù
“That was only in fun, loike.”
“Then now I tell you in earnest. There’s some folk wants such a deal of telling.”
‚ÄúYou don‚Äôt mean‚ÅÝ‚Äînever?‚Äù
‚ÄúI do mean never, Mr.¬ÝCrumb.‚Äù
“Didn’t you say as you would, Ruby? Didn’t you say so as plain as the nose on my face?” John as he asked these questions could hardly refrain from tears.
“Young women is allowed to change their minds,” said Ruby.
‚ÄúBrute!‚Äù exclaimed old Ruggles. ‚ÄúPig! Jade! I‚Äôll tell‚Äôee what, John. She‚Äôll go out o‚Äô this into the streets;‚ÅÝ‚Äîthat‚Äôs what she wull. I won‚Äôt keep her here, no longer;‚ÅÝ‚Äînasty, ungrateful, lying slut.‚Äù
‚ÄúShe ain‚Äôt that;‚ÅÝ‚Äîshe ain‚Äôt that,‚Äù said John. ‚ÄúShe ain‚Äôt that at all. She‚Äôs no slut. I won‚Äôt hear her called so;‚ÅÝ‚Äînot by her grandfather. But, oh, she has a mind to put me so abouts, that I‚Äôll have to go home and hang myself.‚Äù
“Dash it, Miss Ruby, you ain’t a going to serve a young man that way,” said the baker.
‚ÄúIf you‚Äôll jist keep yourself to yourself, I‚Äôll be obliged to you, Mr.¬ÝMixet,‚Äù said Ruby. ‚ÄúIf you hadn‚Äôt come here at all things might have been different.‚Äù
“Hark at that now,” said John, looking at his friend almost with indignation.
Mr.¬ÝMixet, who was fully aware of his rare eloquence and of the absolute necessity there had been for its exercise if any arrangement were to be made at all, could not trust himself to words after this. He put on his hat and walked out through the back kitchen into the yard declaring that his friend would find him there, round by the pig-stye wall, whenever he was ready to return to Bungay. As soon as Mixet was gone John looked at his sweetheart out of the corners of his eyes and made a slow motion towards her, putting out his right hand as a feeler. ‚ÄúHe‚Äôs aff now, Ruby,‚Äù said John.
“And you’d better be aff after him,” said the cruel girl.
“And when’ll I come back again?”
‚ÄúNever. It ain‚Äôt no use. What‚Äôs the good of more words, Mr.¬ÝCrumb?‚Äù
“Domm her; domm her,” said old Ruggles. “I’ll even it to her. She’ll have to be out on the roads this night.”
“She shall have the best bed in my house if she’ll come for it,” said John, “and the old woman to look arter her; and I won’t come nigh her till she sends for me.”
‚ÄúI can find a place for myself, thank ye, Mr.¬ÝCrumb.‚Äù Old Ruggles sat grinding his teeth, and swearing to himself, taking his hat off and putting it on again, and meditating vengeance. ‚ÄúAnd now if you please, Mr.¬ÝCrumb, I‚Äôll go upstairs to my own room.‚Äù
“You don’t go up to any room here, you jade you.” The old man as he said this got up from his chair as though to fly at her. And he would have struck her with his stick but that he was stopped by John Crumb.
‚ÄúDon‚Äôt hit the girl, no gate, Mr.¬ÝRuggles.‚Äù
‚ÄúDomm her, John; she breaks my heart.‚Äù While her lover held her grandfather Ruby escaped, and seated herself on the bedside, again afraid to undress, lest she should be disturbed by her grandfather. ‚ÄúAin‚Äôt it more nor a man ought to have to bear;‚ÅÝ‚Äîain‚Äôt it, Mr.¬ÝCrumb?‚Äù said the grandfather appealing to the young man.
‚ÄúIt‚Äôs the ways on ‚Äôem, Mr.¬ÝRuggles.‚Äù
“Ways on ’em! A whipping at the cart-tail ought to be the ways on her. She’s been and seen some young buck.”
Then John Crumb turned red all over, through the flour, and sparks of anger flashed from his eyes. “You ain’t a meaning of it, master?”
‚ÄúI‚Äôm told there‚Äôs been the squoire‚Äôs cousin aboot‚ÅÝ‚Äîhim as they call the baronite.‚Äù
‚ÄúBeen along wi‚Äô Ruby?‚Äù The old man nodded at him. ‚ÄúBy the mortials I‚Äôll baronite him;‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI wull,‚Äù said John seizing his hat and stalking off through the back kitchen after his friend.