AN AVENUE OF ESCAPE

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1675, 6 April 1904, Page 11

AN AVENUE OF ESCAPE

(By James Blythe J

Sixty year 3 ago large farms were the exception in a.certain parish in East Anglia., England, and small 1 holdings the rule —a state, of things entirely reversed at the present time. “An’ moor’s the pity in it,” as Gipsy said. Robert Thatcher was at that time the tenant of one of the cottages, with about twenty acres of arable land, most of which lie 'Cultivated as a market garden, and on the rest grew grain, swedes and carrots for liis horses and cows. . Ho had been a widower for a little over three years, when he brought home Rosanna to be a mother to his five little children by liis first marriage. The second marriage on his part was mostly for the sake of convenience. But there can be no doubt of the deep love the girl had for her middle-aged husband. And I am glacl to think of this, for she had much to bear during her short married life, and her love at first made her impervious to aught else. She came from West Norfolk, and was regarded as a “furriner” by the natives, who delighted to exercise their native wit upon her and to mock at the evidences of a higher civilisation which she had brought from the market town in the great corn-growing district. She ©specially offended the neighbourhood by exhibiting two large notice-boards in her garden; and "Keys of the church kept here” and "Flowers cut to order” were speedily on the lips of all the riff-.raff of the village in more or less mutilated form. The favourite gibe was: “Hi, Joosianua! Gie’s a ha’portli o’ keys cut to oordeir!” But Rosanna’s love for her husband enable her to bear this. What broke her down was his predilection fop the “Mug in Hand.” And this, though he was as yet a moderate man. Now that he Jiacl got someone to look after liis little ones, he spent night after night at the inn. Rosanna was left alone to fed her heart on the bitterness of neglected love. This was bad eaioujgli, but worse was to come. Robert’s moderation was built upon sand. and the torrent of beer soon swept away the foundations. He began to come home at closing time, fuddled or quick in temper. At work all day, and at the inn at night, Rosanna only had his company when he was stupid on irritable with drink. She had always been a simple girl, with little strength of mind or intellect; an excellent example of the type the East Anglian peasants call “innocent.” This was one reason why the jeers of her neighbours 1 touched her so little. She did not understand them. But her “innocence,” together with an absolute lack of humour, became a factor to strain her relations with her husband. When she found Robert continued! his visits to the "Mug in Hand,” and even prolonged them, she began to go to tlie inn in search of him. Finding her entreaties in vain, she would kneel upon the sandy bricks of the kitchen floor and plead with him. "Rarbut! Rarbut, my darlin’! dee yew come hooani now! Ye kuoo I love ye dare! Ye knoo I took ye wi’ all yar little uns! Doan’t ye goo for to leave me alooan noo moor. Ooh! come hooani along me, Rarbut!” If Robert stretched out his hand for his mug: "Noo! yew shawn’t ha’e ’t!” said Rosanna, seizing l his hand. "Yew shawn’t ha’e the mucka 1 bare. Dee yew come hooani, Rarbut. I love ye so.o dare!” This naturally delighted! the whole kitchen, with the exception of Robert. "Tlia’ss reet, missus ! v ' old Blinker used to say: "goo for’m. goo for’m.!” "Rarbut- dear Rarbut !” sniggered Bob

Smith. ‘'•'Why doan’t ye goo boo am ? She dew love ye soo dare! Ooh, Barbut!” The husband sat impassive through it. all. He did not repulse his wife, but remained grimly silent, drinking his beer when occasion offered. At closing time the two would go home together, the wife weeping on her husband’s shoulder oni clutching and fondling liis hand. Now, this was trying for Robert, arrl his temper began to deteriorate still further. Ido not know that he ever struck his wife. Ido not think ha did. But he grew morose and rough in bis manner with her. From this time forth Rosanna's mind became pronouncedly enfeebled. The sufferings she had undergone had been tu» severe as to leave a continuing dread in her. As time drew on, drinlc made its mark on Robert. He was forced to sell liis cows and horses, and to give up three-quarters of his holding. What was left was barely sufficient to provide a living—irrespective of beer. He began to eke out his honest earnings but utilising what he had learned in his youth from his falther, a, gamekeeper. The woods around were full of game, and the lake was full of pike ’ and eels'. What with night lines and nets for the fish, and poaching tricks for the game, Robert found that ho could butter his bread and fill liis mug better than lie had ever done with ■ the sweat ■of his brow. “Shiny nights" brought poachers' “delight" to him, at “the season of the year.” On tlie night of one November, she < y t through the evening alone, sick with terror. Robert was out poaching. To do the man justice the would have stayed at home had he known wliat.the night was fated to bring forth. But the trouble that came upon Rosanna was unexpected and precipitated by her terrible dread. “Oh, .God! Oh. God!" she cried. T caan’t faace it nod moor. Rarbut doe ;’t love me. 110 doan't miss me. Tlieor bain't noo call for me to goo trew it again for another 'oinans children. God forgi'e me. I lia’ prayed tew Ye, but Yew barkened not untew me. I caan’t abear it noo moor." Wliat mind she had was made up—resolved in its madness. ~ She knelt beside the table, and the lamp flung the shadow of her kneeling figure on the window blind. Suddenly she rose’ with a scream and dashed out into the night. Under the hed|ge she ran quickly, panting as vho ran, Cowering as if to hide. There was no need. No one eared sufficiently for her to spy upon her—to watch over her; The little ones were asleep upstairs; she had forgotten them, though she loved them. .“With anxious, softlv- .. / ■-

stepping haste,” she came to the entrance of the woods. The path rung through at quick growth of ha«zel till it- opens out into a little green promontory that thrusts a grassy point partly wooded with, firs, out where tlie twin alders watch their leaves nod back at them from the clear, deep water beneath. On either side of tlie point is a .reed'dringed bay, curving in soft morass along tlie shore. But the promontory itself is firm and hard to tins edge of the lake, andi its cliff is sheer ter a depth of ten feet of water. Hither Rosanna, sped lightly. For an instant she stopped and looked about Her. The lirs threw long shadows across' till® bay to the right; the alders were black upon the surface of the mere. But'oufc on the wide sweep of water to the dens® wo'Ods on the further shore the. silvery sheet was clear and placid-—and so lovely that it seemed to call to the dazed woman with promise of help. So fair a suifaoa could surely cover nothing cruel. If the water brought her death it would be a kindly death. A rabbit, scurrying through the first fall of leaves and undergrowth. frightened her. She feared lest she should be seen and robbed of her death. She passed] quickly to the space between tlie aiders. The beauty of the scene was gone from her' now. “Good-bye, Rarbut!” she said. EVen as she spoke, the terror seized her again. With a shrill cry she cast herself forward into the lake. The silver surface opened at her fall, rippled for awliile and then smiled, bland, still, and lovely as before. Robert found her in the morning when lie went to take up liis eel lines set at 1110 point. “Blarin!” fie said. “Tlia’ss a rum un!”