Prentice Hugh

by Frances Mary Peard

preparation ofHugh's block. Something hindered Ned Parsons, or he was slower in hiswork, or kept Mid-Lent too jovially; at any rate there was a check whichseemed very terrible to Hugh, and Roger and Wat were both at work beforehim. Wat intended to carry out a bold design of leaf and fruit, but hevowed that something grotesque there must be, and if he might not putAgrippa there, he should have a neighbour's dog which had shown a greatliking for him. It must be owned that Wat was of a somewhat fickledisposition, his fancy for angels and lily-bearing maidens was over, andMistress Thomasin was betrothed to a rich burgess. It seemed likelythat he would lose his heart and find it again many a time before thefinal losing took place.

  Meanwhile it was evident to more than the wife that something was amisswith Elyas. He was at work on his corbel, but heavy-headed anddepressed, finding the carving for which he had longed a labour, and notreally making good progress. Of this he was fully conscious, soconscious indeed, that a fear evidently oppressed him that his handmight have lost its power, and he spoke of it anxiously to Hugh.

  "I wot not why it is," he said, wearily passing his hand across hisface, "but though I know what I have to do, I fail in the doing. Comewith me to-day, Hugh, and see for thyself."

  And, indeed, Hugh, when he had mounted the ladder and raised the clothconcealing the carving, was fain to acknowledge that it was as Gervasesaid. Instead of the firm and powerful strokes which marked his work inall stages, there was a manifest feebleness, hesitation, and blurringwhich filled Hugh with dismay. It was only the beginning; nothing wasthere which might not be set right, but what if indeed his skill wasfailing? He could hardly bear to meet the questioning in Gervase'seyes.

  "Master--it--it--"

  "Speak out--speak freely," said Elyas hoarsely. "It is bad work?"

  "It is not as thy work. Thou art ill, and thy hand feeble; wait alittle, and let the sickness pass."

  The other shook his head.

  "Nay, I dread to wait. Something, some fear of the morrow drives me on.Hugh, this on which I have set my heart--is it to be snatched from me?I see it before me, fair and beautiful, a joy for generations to come.I can do it. I have never failed before, how can I fail now? And yet,and yet--"

  He covered his face with his hands. Hugh, inexpressibly moved, laid hishand on his arm.

  "Sir, dear sir, it is only a passing malady. In a few days you willlook back and smile at your fears. Come home and let Mistress Prothasymake you a cooling drink."

  But Elyas was obstinately determined to work while he could. Haunted bya fear of disabling sickness, unable to believe that the next stroke hemade would not show all his old vigour, he toiled, struggled, and wenthome more disheartened than ever. Yet there were no absolute marks ofillness about him, and Prothasy was neither fanciful nor over-anxious,and the next day thought him better. Work over, Hugh went up to hisroom to perfect his designs, for presently he was to begin. With hisboard and burnt stick he traced in full the ivy clusters upon which hehad decided, carrying out all the smallest details, so that he mighthave it well in his mind before he put his tool to the stone.

  Satisfied he was not, but yet it seemed to him that the lines werefairly good, and it was broad and simple, such as Gervase had suggested.He had finished and was holding it at arm's length to search forshortcomings when he was startled by a cry, and the next moment heardJoan's voice calling wildly, "Hugh, Hugh!"

  Hugh dashed the board on the ground, and rushed towards the cry. Hefound Prothasy kneeling on the ground, holding her husband's head in herlap, while Joan, with a terror-struck face, was unfastening his vest aswell as her trembling little hands would allow.

  "The leech!" was all Prothasy could say, and Hugh was out of the doorthe same moment, flying down the street in pursuit of the firstapothecary he could find, so that they were back before Prothasy haddared to hope. It appeared that Elyas had but just come in from theCathedral, when, without warning, he dropped on the ground, cutting hishead against a sharp projection. He remained unconscious for manyhours, and the leech looked grave, the more so when it was found thatall one side was affected, so that his arm and leg were useless.

  A heavy sadness hung over the house, even Hal hushing his malaperttongue. The warden was greatly beloved by all; they were, moreover,extremely proud of his genius, and now--was that strong right hand tolie helpless! As the news spread some of the families near sent theirserfs to ask tidings; the good bishop came himself, full of grief.

  "Truly, goodwife," he said to Prothasy, "this blow falls heavy on usall. I know not what we can do without him, he has been the very springof our work, ever cheerful, ever ready, seeing to everything; in goodsooth we have had in him a support on which we have leaned more heavilythan we knew."

  Prothasy stood up, white and cold, and apparently unmoved. Very fewwere aware of the tempest which raged in her heart; bitter remorse formany sharp words, passionate love, sickening anxiety. She had oftenbeen jealous of the work which seemed to absorb Elyas, and many a timehad flouted him for some kind action of which she was secretly proud,and against which she would not have said a word had she not known wellthat he would not be shaken from it. And the worst was, that so stronghad grown the habit, that she was conscious now, in the midst of whatwas little short of torture, that were he to recover from his sicknessit would be the same thing again. Joan little knew with what a wearylonging her mother looked at her--to be a child again, to have no chainof habit binding her round and round, to be free!

  For a few days the works in the Cathedral were stopped. The bishopordered this as a mark of respect to Gervase, the most self-denying markhe could pay. There were many things to carry out in the yard, andFranklyn, looking wretched, and perhaps, like Prothasy, bearing a burdenof self-reproach, kept strict rule, and would permit no idling. Hugh,however, could be little there. After Gervase recovered hisconsciousness it was plain enough that he liked Hugh to be with him.They sometimes thought, from the wistful look in his eyes, that hewanted to say something, but as yet his speech was unintelligible. Watwas of no use in the sick-room; it was always impossible for him not tomake more noise than two or three others put together, even when he waswalking on tip-toe, and painfully holding his breath. But in the househe was invaluable, thought nothing a trouble, would run here and there,fetch the apothecary or the leech, or walk miles on any errands theycould devise. When three or four days had passed, and hope hadstrengthened, Hugh found him one day belabouring Hal Crocker for havingventured to tease Agrippa. Hal took advantage of the newcomer towriggle himself off and escape, making a face at Wat as he did so.

  "That is the most incorrigible varlet in the town," said Wat, lookingafter him wrathfully. "Now, is aught wanted?"

  "No. He is sleeping."

  "He will soon be himself again," said the other, joyfully, "and thouwilt set to work."

  They were both young and both hopeful.

  "Ay, so I think," returned Hugh. "And thou, too?"

  "Mine will not do the master much credit, though I have got a fancy formy dog. When we are all gone and forgotten, there will Spot be, gazingdown on a fresh generation of citizens. Think of that, Hugh! What willthey be like, I wonder? New faces and new fashions. Come up the streetwith me. The itinerant justices came this morning, and I want to knowwhat they have done to the forestaller whom they caught half-way toBrampford Speke, meeting the people on their way to market Roger said hewas to have two years in gaol."

  "Wat?"

  "Ay."

  "I wanted to ask thee. Thou rememberest the day the master was taken?"

  "Ay."

  "I was in our room, and had just drawn out my design on the board."

  "Ay, thy head was full of thy old _surs_. Well?"

  "When I heard them cry I ran down and flung it on the ground, and it isgone."

  "Gone! Oh, that thief Roger!"

  "Thou thinkest so?"

  "Thinkest? Who else? It was not I--nor Agrippa. Hast thou asked?"

  "Ay, and he was very wr
oth."

  Wat doubled his fists and made several significant movements.

  "That is what he has been trying for--to get at thy designs, thine orthe master's. How couldst thou be such an oaf?"

  "Who could think of it then?"

  "He could, at any rate. He would think how to push himself to the frontif he had to do it over all our dead bodies. Say good-bye to thydesign, friend Hugh!"

  "Nay, I'll not bear it," cried the young man, angrily; "if he use mydesign I'll proclaim it through the town. And he works fast, and willget the advantage of me, because the master will not spare me while heis so ill. Out on him, what can I do?"

  "Change thy design," advised Wat, sagely. "To whom canst thou complainwith the goodman