Chapter IV: The Cross-Examination

Mr Gribble had been there before her, of course. He had trotted over, big with importance, and ruffled like an angry cockerel, directly after breakfast, to tell the parson of the discovery he had made. But somewhat to his astonishment, and greatly to his indignation, his story was not received with the horror he had anticipated. Mr Measures was a good, fatherly man, full of sympathy for the young and friendless, and slow to suspect evil, because he committed none. His wife followed his example, and was, moreover, much more cordially disposed towards the school teacher than towards the churchwarden. So they heard Mr Gribble’s account in silence, and then Mr Measures remarked that he did not suppose that Miss Stafford intended her action to be taken as either unkind or rude. Mr Gribble stared.

‘Unkind or rude, sir. You can scarcely have understood my meaning. It is not the young woman’s _action_ I complain of, though that was irreverent enough towards a man of _my_ position. But it is the _reason_ for the action that forms the scandal. A _man_, Mr Measures--a rough-looking, bearded man, sitting in an unmarried woman’s apartments at nine o’clock at night. What do you think of _that_, sir? What do you think of that?’

Mr Measures was one of those good old-fashioned clergymen who have never dreamt of wearing cassocks or chasubles, or departing from the ways of the first half of the century. He gave his parishioners three full-barrelled services every Sunday, and let them do pretty much as they chose for the rest of the week. He put his hands under his coat tails as Gribble finished his sentence and looking down upon him blandly, replied with a smile,--

‘Tell me what _you_ think of it, Mr Gribble.’

At these words Mrs Measures raised her eyes from her needlework, and fixed them expectantly on the churchwarden, and Gribble felt he was the chosen one to make the parson and his wife see Miss Stafford’s conduct in its proper light.

‘What I think, sir?’ he reiterated. ‘Well, I think that it is simply _disgraceful_.’

‘Oh, Mr Gribble, that is too hard a word,’ interposed the sweet voice of Mrs Measures. ‘Pray think of whom you are speaking. Miss Stafford has always conducted herself in the most discreet manner since coming to Deepdale--and I do not believe that such a term as _disgrace_ can be associated with her name.’

‘Very well, madam, very well. You must think as you choose,’ replied Mr Gribble, ‘but I am a heye-witness of what occurred, and I don’t agree with you. My daughters heard Miss Stafford make an appointment with this stranger, in Spring’s shop, in the afternoon, and there he was drinking tea with her in the evening. Do you call that respectable, ma’am? _She_ knew what people would call it herself. She tried to hold the door against my entrance--against _me_, Mr Measures, who engaged her for the situation--and if I hadn’t pushed my way in, I shouldn’t have seen the fellow at all.’

‘Well, I don’t think you had a right to force your way in to _any_ woman’s private apartments, Mr Gribble,’ said Mrs Measures indignantly.

‘I agree with my wife, that you exceeded your duty,’ acquiesced the parson, ‘and I trust that it will not recur. The guardians of the parish have nothing to do with Miss Stafford after school hours, nor any authority to interfere with her seeing her friends.’

‘But the _time_, sir; you seem to forget the time!’ exclaimed Gribble, who was working himself up into a fury. ‘Besides, that is not all. As I left the schoolhouse--I may say, as I was _put out_ of it--I met young Rushton going in as familiarly as if he lived there. Is _that_ as it ought to be? Miss Stafford would have been driving about with that young man all yesterday afternoon if I had not taken her into Haltham myself. And I think we all know pretty well what sort of gentleman Mr Rushton is.’

‘Come! come!’ interrupted the parson, ‘you are going too far. I have never heard anything against the character of Mr Rushton. In fact, I think he is a young man to be highly respected. It appears to me, Mr Gribble, that you are viewing the whole matter with a jaundiced eye. So long as Miss Stafford does her duty to the children of Deepdale, what can it signify to you or anyone what friends she receives in her private apartments when her long day’s work is over?’

‘No, indeed,’ added Mrs Measures. ‘I am sure the poor girl must need a little recreation, for she slaves herself to death in the schoolroom.’

Mr Gribble folded his arms, and looked from the husband to the wife in silent amazement.

‘What can it signify?’ he reiterated. ‘Well, Mr Measures, I never thought to hear such a question from your lips. Don’t this young woman have the charge of our innocent _gurls_ from morning to night? Don’t they imbibe her opinions and retain her impressions, and is a person whose conduct is open to the slightest suspicion in regard to levity fit to have the planting of the precious seed in their souls? I’m sorry, Mr Measures, as we don’t see this thing in the same light, but Mr Axworthy and me, and several others, have talked it over, sir, and we have come to the conclusion that whilst Miss Stafford refuses to explain her conduct, or to promise to alter it, that we shall withdraw our children from attending the school, and educate them elsewhere.’

Mrs Measures looked distressed, and her husband stroked his shorn chin thoughtfully. The matter was becoming serious. If the village people clubbed together to ostracise Miss Stafford, the funds for the payment of her salary would not be forthcoming.

‘You surely cannot be in earnest, Mr Gribble?’ he said at length. ‘You cannot mean to ruin this young woman’s prospects for such a trifle?’

‘_We_ don’t think it a trifle, Mr Measures, and we _are_ in earnest--me and Axworthy, and Green and Wilson. You see, we are all married men, sir, and the ladies have determined that an explanation is doo to them, and so it is to all of us--in my opinion.’

‘But has anyone asked Miss Stafford for an explanation?’ demanded Mr Measures.

‘No, sir. We leave that to you, as the proper person to protect the morals of Deepdale.’

‘I am _sure_ there will be no difficulty about it,’ said Mrs Measures anxiously. ‘Miss Stafford has never tried to conceal any of her doings from us yet. Edward, dear, why not ask her to come over here this afternoon, and put the question to her yourself? She will tell you at once who her visitor was, and then Mr Gribble will be satisfied.’

‘If she promises the offence shall not be repeated,’ said the churchwarden cautiously.

‘You have to prove first that it _was_ an offence,’ observed Mr Measures, in a tone of rebuke. ‘However, I will do as my wife suggests, and you and Mr Axworthy can meet Miss Stafford here at five o’clock, if it pleases you, and hear what she has to tell me about her visitor.’

‘That is all we ask for, sir, and we will be punctual,’ replied Mr Gribble; and, accordingly, when the school teacher entered the parsonage she found the two churchwardens awaiting her. The party was assembled in the drawing-room, and as Miss Stafford entered it, with her sweet face rather flushed by annoyance and expectation, Mrs Measures rose promptly to bid her welcome.

‘I hope it did not inconvenience you to come over, my dear,’ she said kindly, ‘but Mr Measures wanted to see you particularly this afternoon.’

‘Yes; I understand,’ said Paula simply.

‘Miss Stafford,’ commenced the clergyman, ‘I have such perfect faith in your discretion and candour that I have no hesitation in asking you to answer me a few questions. It seems that a visitor whom you entertained last night at the schoolhouse has furnished the subject for some unpleasant remarks respecting yourself, and I want you to tell me the whole truth about him, in order that I may contradict any idle stories his visit may have provoked.’

Paula’s face had assumed rather a haughty look during this little tirade, and at the close of it she asked briefly,--

‘What is it you wish to know, sir?’

‘Who was the man who visited you last evening?’

‘An old friend of mine.’

‘How did he find you out?’

‘I met him unexpectedly in Haltham yesterday.’

‘Perhaps he is a relation?’

‘No, sir; we are not related.’

‘What is his name?’

‘That I cannot tell you, Mr Measures.’

‘Mr Gribble tells me he was a sailor?’

‘Yes, he is a sailor.’

‘Where did you make his acquaintance, then?’

‘That question, also, you must excuse my answering, sir. It belongs to my past life, and has nothing to do with Deepdale.’

‘Oh, yes, it has, Miss Stafford, as you will soon see,’ exclaimed Mr Gribble, chuckling.

‘Are these two men brought here to be my judges, Mr Measures?’ said Paula quickly.

‘No, no, my dear,’ replied the parson; ‘but it will be to your advantage if you can satisfy their natural curiosity on the subject.’

‘Unpardonable curiosity, you mean,’ amended Mrs Measures warmly. ‘Edward, I object to this cross-examination altogether. It is unworthy of you, and insulting to Miss Stafford, who has always conducted herself with rigorous propriety in Deepdale. If she says that her visitor was a respectable man (and I am sure she would receive none other), her word should be sufficient for us and everyone. What is the use of knowing his name?’

‘_I_ am quite ready to accept Miss Stafford’s word,’ said the parson.

‘Thank you both very much,’ replied Paula gratefully.

‘But _we_ are not so trusting, Miss Stafford--me and my good friend and brother churchwarden here, Mr Axworthy,’ exclaimed Mr Gribble, who had constituted himself spokesman; ‘nor the parish ain’t so trusting either, as I have already told our good minister and his lady. We demand a full explanation of the reason you had _two_ gentlemen in your rooms last night, and we mean to have it.’

‘Do you?’ replied Paula, turning the full light of her blazing eyes upon him, ‘then I refuse to give it you. If Mr and Mrs Measures are satisfied that I meant no harm, and did no harm, I care nothing for what anyone else may think or say. My rooms are my own, and whatever visitors I admitted there did not, at all events, _force_ their way in in the unmanly way that _you_ did, Mr Gribble.’

‘Very well, Mr Measures,’ said the little churchwarden, rising, ‘this settles it. Neither _my_ daughters, nor Mr Axworthy’s daughters, nor the daughters of none of our friends, will attend the parish school again, until that young woman is removed from her office as teacher.’

‘My dear Miss Stafford, do consider,’ said the minister in a low voice; ‘your fate is in their hands. If the parish generally make up their minds to withdraw their children from school, the funds to pay your salary will not be forthcoming.’

‘I cannot help it, Mr Measures. I will rather starve than submit to such tyranny. The--the--friend who came last night is not likely to visit me again; but if he did, I could not refuse to receive him.’

‘Yet you will not tell me his name, or his errand?’

She shook her head.

‘It seems strange you should observe such reticence, Miss Stafford. A young woman--almost a girl--like yourself can have no past history to conceal. Will you confide this secret to Mrs Measures, who takes a real interest in you?’

‘I will confide it to no one, sir. It concerns no one but myself.’

‘But I understand that young Rushton was also at your rooms last evening.’

‘That is true, sir.’

‘After the first man had left you.’

‘After the first had left me. But he only stayed a short time, and the door by which he entered was not even closed behind him.’

‘I am sorry, though, that you should have allowed him to come in. There was no harm in it, I am sure. Still, the world is very censorious, and a young unmarried woman cannot be too cautious in her behaviour.’

‘Well, Mr Measures,’ exclaimed Mr Gribble, aggressively, ‘and has the young woman given you a satisfactory explanation of the unusual visit she received last night?’

‘Miss Stafford is apparently not at liberty to disclose the name of the gentleman, nor the object with which he entered the schoolhouse, but I feel certain that she has no reason to be ashamed of either.’

‘I have not, sir,’ replied Paula.

‘Well, Mr Axworthy and me are not satisfied, sir, and we must beg as you’ll give the young woman her notice. The parish school is meant for the children of the parish, and we have a right to object to such proceedings on the teacher’s part. We don’t want no scandals in Deepdale, so the sooner she goes the better.’

‘Stop a moment, Mr Gribble, and be good enough to remember to whom you are speaking,’ said Mr Measures with dignity; ‘it is for _me_ to decide this question, and not you. Miss Stafford,’ he continued, turning to Paula, ‘I think these men have a certain right on their side, though they have forgotten to temper their justice with mercy. I think you owe Deepdale a little more explanation than you have given. I mean with regard--not to Mr Rushton, whom we all know--but this stranger. But I wish to do nothing in a hurry. Take a couple of days to consider it, and at the end of that time I will see you again. I think that will suit all parties.’

‘I thank you, sir, for your indulgence,’ said Paula, ‘but you may as well give me my notice at once, for it will make no difference. If I am unworthy of being trusted in so small a matter, I must be unworthy to have the charge of the children of this parish committed to me.’

‘Of course. That’s just what _I_ say,’ interposed Mr Gribble.

‘I prefer you should think the matter over quietly for a couple of days,’ replied Mr Measures, without noticing the churchwarden’s remark, ‘and perhaps you may see your way out of the difficulty. My wife will have a talk with you about it, too, and you know she sympathises with you, and believes in you. Now, I will not detain you longer. And I request, Mr Gribble, that neither you nor anybody else visits the schoolhouse until this matter is settled. I will not have Miss Stafford worried, nor annoyed in any way. You can do as you choose about your children, but I forbid you, or your wives, intruding your opinions upon her. Good-morning.’

The clergyman turned from them to shake hands with the school teacher, and the two churchwardens shuffled out of the room, looking far less pompous than they had done on entering it. Paula Stafford walked home again very thoughtfully. As far as she was concerned, the matter was already at a conclusion, for she had not the slightest intention of disclosing Seth Brunt’s name, or rousing the public curiosity concerning her past life. How could she tell that, once having a clue, the inquisitive might not go on and on, until they had learned her entire history. She had been thinking, ever since the sailor’s visit, that it would be safer and better for her to turn her back on Deepdale. He had come once, against her wishes, and he might come again, and he was a terribly close link with what had gone before. In his enthusiasm for his (so-called) friend, and his clumsy desire to set matters on a less distressful footing, he might blurt out her story to anyone who seemed likely to help him in the matter--might even take Hal Rushton into his confidence, and try to enlist his sympathies and assistance. Good Heavens! it was too great a risk to run. Seth Brunt had driven her from the place for ever. She reached her home, weary and ill at ease, for the thought of leaving Deepdale was linked with a terrible disappointment and a heartache. Her little maid met her at the door with sparkling, excited eyes.

‘Oh, please, teacher, young Mr Martin’s been to see you, and he’s brought you such a beautiful posy, all jenny-remums and roses--and he’s brought a noose-paper, too, and you’re to read it, please--and there’s been a terrible haccident.’

‘An accident, Sarah--where?’

‘On the railway, teacher, and a heap of people killed; and Mr Martin said ’twas the _Evening Noose_, and he brought it from Haltham expressly for you to see.’

‘That was very kind of him, though I don’t much enjoy reading of horrors. If you’ve laid the tea, Sarah, you can go home to your mother. I shall not want anything more to-night.’

‘Ain’t you well, teacher?’ asked the girl.

‘I have a headache, my dear. That is all. I shall feel better when I have had my tea.’

‘I ’ope no one’s been a-worrying of you,’ said Sarah sympathetically, ‘for Tom Green, the butcher’s son, told me Mr Gribble had been talking of you in such a manner up at their shop this morning that his fingers itched to knock him down.’

Paula flushed faintly.

‘That was very good of Tom, Sarah, but you mustn’t believe all he says, nor Mr Gribble either. But run along now, for I must not talk to you, or my head will ache worse than it does. Good-night.’

And dropping a respectful curtsey, the little serving maiden left her teacher to herself. She poured out her cup of tea and took up the newspaper listlessly, sighing as she unfolded it. If Gribble was going about the village spreading scandal as he went, it would be useless for her to attempt to stem the torrent of suspicion that would dog her every movement. Better be out of it all--even at the cost of relinquishing the sweetest hope that had come to her since she had been her own mistress. She had not long to look for the account of the railway accident. It blazed upon her view in the largest possible type as soon as she glanced at the paper.

‘Terrible accident to the Northern Express. Collision with the 6 A.M. from Haltham. Twenty passengers killed and wounded.’

Her eyes swam in mist. Her head grew dizzy. _Where_ had she heard of the 6 A.M. train from Haltham? Suddenly it flashed upon her. It was the one by which Brunt intended to travel to see his old mother at Bonnysett. She turned quickly to the list of killed, which was given below, and the first name she came across was that of _Seth Brunt, mariner_.