hat she was not so much overpowered as might have
been expected; and, as he was taken by the well-known constable instead
of the soldiers, she did not treat it as John's fault. Besides, she was
really afraid of, as she said, "upsetting" Judith by another outcry, so
she only moaned in a low, miserable voice about what was to become of
her and her poor children, though after all, what with the parish,
Judith's help, and John's earnings, she would be no worse off than was
common with her. Jem was supposed to "keep himself," and only Judy was
really on her hands.

She would hardly let her son go up and see Judith. "Now, you'll be
terrifying of her, and she'll be upset again and holler, and go into a
fit."

However, he took off his boots and went up softly. Judith was all
alone, lying still, but he had never seen her look half so ill, though
she opened her eyes and smiled when the creaking stair announced him,
and when he bent over her she said, "Dear lad, you bain't hurt!"

"Oh no; not at all."

"And the dear ladies are safe?"

"Yes; Tirzah Todd came and took them away."

"Thank God!"

"But you are bad, auntie?"

"Oh, never mind. All's right! You've done your duty, and I can only
thank God for my good lad."

Her voice grew faint, her eyes closed, and John was obliged to go away--
but the look of peace stayed with him.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

JUDITH.

"And of our scholars let us learn
Our own forgotten lore."
_Keble_.

Little Mary Carbonel was not the worse for all the agitations, from
which, indeed, she had been so carefully shielded, but her mother was
sadly broken down by all she had undergone, and likewise by
mortification at the whole conduct of the Uphill people. After all the
years that she and her husband and sisters had striven for them, it was
very hard to find that so very few would exert themselves for their
protection, and that so many would even turn against them. It was hard
to make allowance for the bewilderment of slow minds, for sheer
cowardice, and for the instinct of going along with one's own class of
people. She and Sophy prayed that they might forgive the people, but it
was impossible just then not to feel that there was a good deal to
forgive, and Captain Caiger was always telling them that all their
trouble came in trying to help the good-for-nothing people.

They had moved into the George Hotel at Elchester. It was a good large
inn, such as used to exist in co