For these others, man for man, made just as much money, and
paid less rent for their small cottages, and, furthermore,
received doles from the vicar and his well-to-do parishioners,
yet they could not better their position, much less afford the
good clothing, books, music, and other pleasant things which
the independent woodman bestowed on his family. And they knew
why. The woodman's very presence in their midst was a
continual reproach, a sermon on improvidence and intemperance,
which they could not avoid hearing by thrusting their fingers
into their ears.
During my stay with these people something occurred to cause
them a very deep disquiet. The reader will probably smile
when I tell them what it was. Awaking one night after
midnight I heard the unusual sound of voices in earnest
conversation in the room below; this went on until I fell
asleep again. In the morning we noticed that our landlady had
a somewhat haggard face, and that the daughters also had pale
faces, with purple marks under the eyes, as if they had kept
their mother company in some sorrowful vigil. We were not
left long in ignorance of the cause of this cloud. The good
woman asked if we had been much disturbed by the talking. I
answered that I had heard voices and had supposed that friends
from a distance had arrived overnight and that they had sat up
talking to a late hour. No--that was not it, she said; but
someone had arrived late, a son who was sixteen years old, and
who had been absent for some days on a visit to relations in
another county.
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