All's Well

by Emily Sarah Holt

  CHAPTER NINE.

  ALICE DECIDES FOR HERSELF.

  "Not that road, Mistress!"

  Alice had nearly reached the end of the Market Place, when her husband'sharsh call arrested her. She had been walking slowly on, so that hemight overtake her. On hearing this, she paused and waited for him tocome up.

  "That's not the way to Canterbury!" said Mr Benden, seizing her by thewrist, and turning her round.

  "I thought we were going home," said Alice quietly.

  "Methinks, Mistress, there's somewhat wrong with your hearing thismorrow. Heard you not the Justice commit you to gaol?"

  "Truly I so did, Edward; but I heard also the constable to say that hewould come for me when it should stand with his conveniency, and Ireckoned it was thus settled."

  "Then you reckoned without your host. The constable hath given me moneyto carry you thither without delay, and that will I with a very goodwill."

  "Given you money!"

  Through six years of unhappy married life Alice Benden had experiencedenough of her husband's constant caprice and frequent brutality; butthis new development of it astonished her. She had not supposed that hewould descend so far as to take the price of innocent blood. The toneof her voice, not indignant, but simply astonished, increased MrBenden's anger. The more gently she spoke, the harsher his voice grew.This is not unusual, when a man is engaged in wilfully doing what heknows to be wrong.

  "Verily, your hearing must be evil this morrow, Mistress!" he said, withsome wicked words to emphasise his remark. "The constable hath paid mea royal farthing, and here it is"--patting his pocket as he spoke--"andI have yet to earn it. Come, step out; we have no time to lose."

  Alice came to a sudden stand-still.

  "No, Edward," she said firmly. "You shall not carry me to gaol. I willhave a care of your character, though you little regard mine. I prayyou, unhand me, and I will go mine own self to the constable, andentreat him to take me, as his office and duty are." [This part of thestory, however extraordinary, is pure fact.]

  In sheer amazement, Mr Benden's hand unloosed from Alice's arm; andseizing her opportunity, she walked rapidly back to the Court House.For a moment he stood considering what to do. He had little moreconcern for his own reputation than for hers; but he felt that if hefollowed her to the constable, he could scarcely avoid refunding thathalf-crown, a thing he by no means desired to do. This reflectiondecided him. He went quickly to the inn where he had left his horse,mounted, and rode home, leaving Alice to her own devices, to walk homeor get taken to Canterbury in any way she could.

  The constable was not less astonished than Mr Benden. He was notaccustomed to receive visits from people begging to be taken to gaol.He scratched his head, put it on one side and looked at Alice as if shewere a curiosity in an exhibition, then took off his cap again, andscratched his head on the other side.

  "Well, to be sure!" he said at last. "To tell truth, my mistress, Iknow not what to do with you. I cannot mine own self win this day toCanterbury, and I have no place to tarry you here; nor have I any tosend withal save yon lad."

  He pointed as he spoke to his son, a lad of about twelve years old, whosat on the bench by the Court House door, idly whistling, and throwingup a pebble to catch it again.

  "Then, I pray you, Master Constable," said Alice eagerly, "send the ladwith me. I am loth to put you to this labour, but verily I am forced toit; and methinks you may lightly guess I shall not run away fromcustody."

  The constable laughed, but looked undecided.

  "In very deed," said he, "I see not wherefore you should not go home andtarry there, till such time as I come to fetch you. But if it must be,it must. I will go saddle mine horse, and he shall carry you toCanterbury with George."

  While the constable went to saddle the horse, and Alice sat on the benchwaiting till it was ready, she fought with a very strong temptation.Her husband would not receive her, so much she knew for a certainty; butthere were others who would. How welcome Roger would have made her! andwhat a perfect haven of rest it would be, to live even for a few dayswith him and Christabel! Her old father, too, at Frittenden, who hadtold her not many days before, with tears in his eyes, how bitterly herepented ever giving her to Edward Benden. It must be remembered thatin those days girls were never permitted to choose for themselves,whether they wished to marry a man or not; the parents always decidedthat point, and sometimes, as in this instance, they came to a sadlymistaken decision. Alice had not chosen her husband, and he had nevergiven her any reason to love him; but she had done her best to be a goodwife, and even now she would not depart from it. The temptation wassore, and she almost gave way under it. But the constant habit ofreferring everything to God stood her in good stead in this emergency.To go and stay with her brother, whose visits to her Mr Benden hadforbidden, would be sure to create a scandal, and to bring his name intoeven worse repute than it was at present. She must either be atBriton's Mead or in Canterbury Gaol; and just now the gaol was the onlypossible place for her. Be it so! God would go with her into thegaol--perhaps more certainly than into Roger's home. And the placewhere she could be sure of having God with her was the place where Alicechose and wished to be.

  Her heart sank heavily as she heard the great door of the gaol clang tobehind her. Alice was made of no materials more all-enduring than fleshand blood. She could enjoy rest and pleasantness quite as well as otherpeople. And she wondered drearily, as she went down the steps into thewomen's room, how long she was to stay in that unrestful and unpleasantplace.

  "Why, are you come again?" said one of the prisoners, as Alice descendedthe steps. "What, you wouldn't conform? Well, no more would I."

  Alice recognised the face of a decent-looking woman who had come in thesame day that she was released, and in whom she had felt interested atthe time from her quiet, tidy appearance, though she had no opportunityof speaking to her. She sat down now on the bench by her side.

  "Are you here for the like cause, friend? I mind your face, methinks,though I spake not to you aforetime."

  "Ay, we row in the same boat," said the woman with a pleasant smile,"and may as well make us known each to other. My name's Rachel Potkin,and I come from Chart Magna: I'm a widow, and without children left tome, for which I thank the Lord now, though I've fretted o'er it many atime. Strange, isn't it, we find it so hard to remember that He seesthe end from the beginning, and so hard to believe that He is safe to dothe best for us?"

  "Ay, and yet not strange," said Alice with a sigh. "Life's weary workby times."

  "It is so, my dear heart," answered Rachel, laying a sympathising handon Alice's. "But, bethink you, He's gone through it. Well, and what'syour name?"

  "My name is Alice Benden, from Staplehurst."

  "Are you a widow?"

  Had Tabitha been asked that question in the same circumstances, shewould not improbably have replied, "No; worse luck!" But Alice, as wehave seen, was tender over her husband's reputation. She only returneda quiet negative. Rachel, whose eyes were keen, and ears ditto, heardsomething in the tone, and saw something in the eyes, which Alice had noidea was there to see and hear, that made her say to herself, "Ah, poorsoul! he's a bad sort, not a doubt of it." Aloud she only said,--

  "And how long look you to be here--have you any notion?"

  Prisoners in our milder days are committed to prison for a certain term.In those days there was no fixed limit. A man never knew for acertainty, when he entered the prison, whether he would remain there forten days or for fifty years. He could only guess from appearances howlong it might be likely to be.

  "Truly, friend, that know I not. God knoweth."

  "Well said, Mistress Benden. Let us therefore give thanks, and take ourhearts to us."

  Just then the gaoler came up to them.

  "Birds of a feather, eh?" said he, with not unkindly humour. For agaoler, he was not a hard man. "Mistress Benden, your allowance isthreepence by the day--what shall I fetch you?"r />
  The prisoners were permitted to buy their own food through the prisonofficials, up to the value of their daily allowance. Alice considered amoment.

  "A pennyworth of bread, an' it like you, Master; a farthing's worth ofbeef; a farthing's worth of eggs; and a pennyworth of ale. Thehalfpenny, under your good pleasure, I will keep in hand."

  Does the reader exclaim, Was that the whole day's provision? Indeed itwas, and a very fair day's provision too. For this money Alice wouldreceive six rolls or small loaves of bread, a pound of beef, two eggs,and a pint of ale,--quite enough for supper and breakfast. The ale wasnot so much as it seems, for they drank ale at every meal, evenbreakfast, only invalids using milk. To drink water was thought adreadful hardship, and they had no tea or coffee.

  The gaoler nodded and departed.

  "Look you, Mistress Benden," said Rachel Potkin, "I have thought bytimes to try, being here in this case, on how little I could live, so asto try mine endurance, and fit me so to do if need were. Shall we essayit together, think you? Say I well?"

  "Very well, Mistress Potkin; I were fain to make the trial. How much isyour allowance by the day?"

  "The like of yours--threepence."

  "We will try on how little we can keep in fair health," said Alice witha little laugh, "and save our money for time of more need. On whatshall we do it, think you?"

  "Why, I reckon we may look to do it on fourpence betwixt us."

  "Oh, surely!" said Alice. "Threepence, I well-nigh think."

  While this bargain was being made, Mr Benden sat down to supper, a porkpie standing before him, a dish of toasted cheese to follow, and afrothed tankard of ale at his elbow. Partly owing to her mistress'sexhortations, Mary had changed her tactics, and now sought to mollifyher master by giving him as good a supper as she knew how to serve. ButMr Benden was hard to please this evening. "The pork is as tough asleather," he declared; "the cheese is no better than sawdust, and theale is flat as ditch-water." And he demanded of Mary, in rasping tones,if she expected such rubbish to agree with him?

  "Ah!" said Mary to herself as she shut the door on him, "'tis yourconscience, Master, as doesn't agree with you."