The Virgin in Judgment

he first to hear of it. Mr. Moses told Mr. Merle, the vicar, and Mr. Merle resented th

rrors of our bull-ring," he sai

th the southern wall of the churchyard--a region known as the

an, by means mysteriously hidden, became aware of the little matter in hand on the very morning after the arrangement, and though Ernest called at the Manor House, he found the Justice unable to see him. Thrice he was thus evaded, and when once he met Sir

e thing he intended to do; and while his mother wept some natural tears,

r above common, and now 'tis left for the eldest to do it. You'll trounce him to the truth

dge say?" a

We're to fight in about three weeks, and the d

to fight for?"

it out. You see, he was after my Madge, and I bested him

Napoleon and Wellington fought their battles over again. Elias sent to Plymouth for a pair of boxing gloves, and Joshua for the good of the cause, albeit not fond of hard knocks, stood up to David for

ate talk of special significance

ning from Sheepstor,

ld us, David," she said. "'Tis as much for what he do

licking will do him goo

erything to me, David--everything. I can't keep away and I won't keep away. You

d ga

ld y

ut me there, and I don't believe you can win without me. I swear I feel it so

I would; but you can'

, when I'd made up my mind, and I axed him what the bottle-hold

l then!"

hed with

o win a bit. A woman that can keep her

Crocker will have the 'Dumpling' and this que

n trust me in such a thing,"

it so. I couldn't fight all I know if you wasn't there, Rhoda. But I warn you, 'tis u

ng as you win. 'Twil

You never know how

"'Tisn't in nature that such a

long as I can stand," he said. "I think I

something that distu

it, and we had a tell. Then he told me that Timothy Mattacott was out Down Tor wa

r this afternoon, like a good girl, and just make light of

ay saw Madge. David's sweethear

can't nothing be done to stop it? Such te

stand-up fight; and the best man will win; and that's our David. Don't take on and make a fuss afore him, if you want to keep friends with

ause I know 'em both s

ver wanted his beastly nature cooled down with a good hiding more than what Bartle

hen the day comes

day. 'Tis to be kept a dark secret. And I'm

ho

e wants it. He w

made o

the matter. He wants me th

ot you--'tis an

for that, so long

s his future wife, I should thin

t. Men will be men, when they're built on the pattern of David

of his beautiful face all smashed about--and Bartley too--both such good-looking, kindly ch

ds, they must hammer one another a bit first. Why not? You puzzle me. Do 'e want 'em to

d, if ever he love

m you. He's a strong, hard man and straight as sunlight. If you're going to be soft and silly over this, or over anything, you won't make him love you any the better. Take my advice and try to feel like I do--like a

l, Rhoda. But don't think I'm a fool. 'Tis natural I don't want the dear face I love to be bruised by another

don't know why," said the other. "H

may, her emotions were trivial compared with those o

t was impossible, and Mr. Moses laid every detail of the proposed

be, her heart quite overcame her and she wept. But the mother of Bartley wept not: she panted--panted with wrath till her expansive bust creaked. Her anger flowed forth like a tide and swallowed first Mr. Shillabeer and the low characters he encouraged at 'The Corner House'; next, David Bowden and his family; next, the Stanb

rs family in his veins. They've harried him into it along of his pluck and courage; but it shan't be if I can put my bosom between him and bloodshed. Bartley to be struck and assaulted by a warrener, and a common man at that

that your son's quite as set on

it. We're in a Christian land, and this firebrand, that's crept among us with his wicked

hey are to fight in about three weeks' time--afore Christmas. That is, if we, on the side of law and order--namely, his reverence, and me

er than he should have his face touched by that--that rabbit-catching good-for-nought up to Ditsworthy. Why, I'll

me, on the other side, matters developed steadily. Shillabeer and 'Frosty-faced Fogo' had taken charge of Bartley Crocker, and he prepared for battle w

e 'beaks' ever since I came to man's estate, and if I can't hoodwink y

he match and five pounds more paid in the day before the battle. Mr. Bowden found the money for David, and no less a worthy than Sir Guy Flamank himself, havi

ng into men of renown. Even the hosts of the lesser Bowdens were received with respect among their friends, in that they happened to be actual brothers of a hero. It might have been remarked that while most people at first expected Bowden to win, the larger number coupled th

d scant of breath to be of any service. A young boxer from Plymouth was therefore engaged--

t straight naturally, not round. His left promised to be very useful and he had a vague idea of hitting on the retreat and countering--arts usually quite unappreciated by the novice. In fact, Mr. Fogo, from an attitude of indifference, presently

and chance willed that he should meet Margaret returning

fellow, by the name of Billy Screech, running after Dorcas, and none of 'em like him or will hear of such a thing. And then the silence! They won't talk afore me. Yo

a sporting fixture for ten pounds a side. There'll be twenty pou

my eyes. Can't you use the gloves? Why do you want to knock your poo

u to wear mine; but they're prettier far than David's. 'Twas Mr. Fogo's

it, and I pray to God every night

right stuff in me; and for that matter, I've found it out myself. I take to it like a duck takes to water. I've always been fond of dancing--nobody knows that better than you--

came to Madge's he

humble about it. But maybe you'll find he can hi

led upon to assist. He and Crocker set to steadily. But Pierce was nearly forty, and too small for Bartley; therefore the lord of the manor himself filled the breach. Not, indeed, that Sir Guy Flamank put on

and three golden plover fell to his borrowed weapon. He discussed the Prize Ring for the gratification of Mr. Bowden on this occasion, but though David's father tried hard to learn how Bartley was coming on in his training, Mr. Fogo's silence upon that theme ex

that he rose at reasonable hours and took an immense deal of active exercise--when, in fact, she grasped the truth that her only son meant to fight a prize-fight, and was taking every possible precaution to win it, then she broke down and threatened no more, but became hysterical, melodramatic and mournful. It was enough that he entered the house for Nanny to fling herself into an attitude of despair. Her appetite suffered, her sleep suffered, even her spirits suffered. From being a dictatorial and assertive woman, who used her personality like a pistol, she grew meek, mild an

r constant remonstrances no more. He strove to make her take a sterner view, and she assured him that had she not been a woman of gentle birth, it might have been possible; but