feels in providing for the welfare of every
little darling!"

CHAPTER XLV

THE THING IS JUST

"Was there ever such a man?" said Mr. Mordacks to himself, as he rode
back to Flamborough against the bitter wind, after "fettling" the
affairs of the poor Carroways, as well as might be for the present.
"As if I had not got my hands too full already, now I am in for another
plaguesome business, which will cost a lot of money, instead of bringing
money in. How many people have I now to look after? In the first place,
two vile wretches--Rickon Goold, the ship-scuttler, and John Cadman, the
murderer--supposing that Dr. Upandown and Mrs. Carroway are right. Then
two drunken tars, with one leg between them, who may get scared of the
law, and cut and run. Then an outlawed smuggler, who has cut and
run already; and a gentleman from India, who will be wild with
disappointment through the things that have happened since I saw him
last. After that a lawyer, who will fight tooth and nail of course,
because it brings grist to his mill. That makes seven; and now to all
these I have added number eight, and that the worst of all--not only
a woman, but a downright mad one, as well as seven starving children.
Charity is a thing that pays so slowly! That this poor creature should
lose her head just now is most unfortunate. I have nothing whatever to
lay before Sir Duncan, when I tell him of this vile catastrophe, except
the boy's own assertion, and the opinion of Dr. Upandown. Well, well,
'faint heart,' etc. I must nurse the people round; without me they would
all have been dead. Virtue is its own reward. I hope the old lady has
not burned my hare to death."

The factor might well say that without his aid that large family must
have perished. Their neighbors were not to be blamed for this, being
locked out of the house, and having no knowledge of the frost and famine
that prevailed within. Perhaps, when the little ones began to die,
Geraldine might heave escaped from a window, and got help in time to
save some of them, if she herself had any strength remaining; but as it
was, she preferred to sacrifice herself, and obey her mother. "Father
always told me," she had said to Mr. Mordacks, when he asked her how so
sharp a child could let things come to such a pitch, "that when he was
out of the way, the first thing I was to mind always was to do what
mother told me; and now he can't come back no more, to let me off from
doing it."

By