North and South
Page 224'Higgins, thou knowed him! Thou mun go tell the wife. Do it
gently, man, but do it quick, for we canna leave him here long.' 'I canna go,' said Higgins. 'Dunnot ask me. I canna face her.' 'Thou knows her best,' said the man. 'We'n done a deal in
bringing him here--thou take thy share.' 'I canna do it,' said Higgins. 'I'm welly felled wi' seeing him.
We wasn't friends; and now he's dead.' 'Well, if thou wunnot thou wunnot. Some one mun, though. It's a
dree task; but it's a chance, every minute, as she doesn't hear
on it in some rougher way nor a person going to make her let on
by degrees, as it were.' 'Papa, do you go,' said Margaret, in a low voice.
'If I could--if I had time to think of what I had better say; but
all at once----' Margaret saw that her father was indeed unable.
He was trembling from head to foot.
'Bless yo', miss, it will be a kind act; for she's been but a
sickly sort of body, I hear, and few hereabouts know much on
her.' Margaret knocked at the closed door; but there was such a noise,
as of many little ill-ordered children, that she could hear no
reply; indeed, she doubted if she was heard, and as every moment
of delay made her recoil from her task more and more, she opened
the door and went in, shutting it after her, and even, unseen to
the woman, fastening the bolt.
Mrs. Boucher was sitting in a rocking-chair, on the other side of
untouched for days by any effort at cleanliness.
Margaret said something, she hardly knew what, her throat and
mouth were so dry, and the children's noise completely prevented
her from being heard. She tried again.
'How are you, Mrs. Boucher? But very poorly, I'm afraid.' 'I've no chance o' being well,' said she querulously. 'I'm left
alone to manage these childer, and nought for to give 'em for to
keep 'em quiet. John should na ha' left me, and me so poorly.' 'How long is it since he went away?' 'Four days sin'. No one would give him work here, and he'd to go
on tramp toward Greenfield. But he might ha' been back afore
this, or sent me some word if he'd getten work. He might----' 'Oh, don't blame him,' said Margaret. 'He felt it deeply, I'm
addressing herself, in no very gentle voice, to a little urchin
of about a year old. She apologetically continued to Margaret,
'He's always mithering me for "daddy" and "butty;" and I ha' no
butties to give him, and daddy's away, and forgotten us a', I
think. He's his father's darling, he is,' said she, with a sudden
turn of mood, and, dragging the child up to her knee, she began
kissing it fondly.