"Open it. Open it quick," said she to the eldest child. "It"s bolted; make nonoise--be very still. Oh, papa, let them go upstairs very softly andcarefully, and perhaps she will not hear them. She has fainted--that"sall."
"It"s as well for her, poor creature," said a woman following in the wakeof the bearers of the dead. "But yo"re not fit to hold her. Stay, I"ll runfetch a pillow and we"ll let her down easy on the floor."
This helpful neighbour was a great relief to Margaret; she was evidentlya stranger to the house, a new-comer in the district, indeed; but she wasso kind and thoughtful that Margaret felt she was no longer needed; andthat it would be better, perhaps, to set an example of clearing the house,which was filled with idle, if sympathising gazers.
She looked round for Nicholas Higgins. He was not there. So she spoketo the woman who had taken the lead in placing Mrs. Boucher on thefloor.
"Can you give all these people a hint that they had better leave inquietness? So that when she comes round, she should only find one ortwo that she knows about her. Papa, will you speak to the men, and getthem to go away? She cannot breathe, poor thing, with this crowd abouther."
Margaret was kneeling down by Mrs. Boucher and bathing he face withvinegar; but in a few minutes she was surprised at the gush of fresh air.
She looked round, and saw a smile pass between her father and thewoman.
"What is it?" asked she.
"Only our good friend here," replied her father, "hit on a capital expedientfor clearing the place."
"I bid "em begone, and each take a child with "em, and to mind that theywere orphans, and their mother a widow. It was who could do most, andthe childer are sure of a bellyful to-day, and of kindness too. Does hooknow how he died?"
"No," said Margaret; "I could not tell her all at once."
"Hoo mun be told because of th" Inquest. See! Hoo"s coming round; shallyou or I do it? or mappen your father would be best?"
"No; you, you," said Margaret.
They awaited her perfect recovery in silence. Then the neighbourwoman sat down on the floor, and took Mrs. Boucher"s head andshoulders on her lap.
"Neighbour," said she, "your man is dead. Guess yo" how he died?"
"He were drowned," said Mrs. Boucher, feebly, beginning to cry for thefirst time, at this rough probing of her sorrows.
"He were found drowned. He were coming home very hopeless o" aughton earth. He thought God could na be harder than men; mappen not sohard; mappen as tender as a mother; mappen tenderer. I"m not saying hedid right, and I"m not saying he did wrong. All I say is, may neither menor mine ever have his sore heart, or we may do like things."
"He has left me alone wi" a" these children!" moaned the widow, lessdistressed at the manner of the death than Margaret expected; but it wasof a piece with her helpless character to feel his loss as principallyaffecting herself and her children.
"Not alone," said Mr. Hale, solemnly. "Who is with you? Who will takeup your cause?" The widow opened her eyes wide, and looked at thenew speaker, of whose presence she had not been aware till then.
"Who has promised to be a father to the fatherless?" continued he.
"But I"ve getten six children, sir, and the eldest not eight years of age.
I"m not meaning for to doubt His power, sir,--only it needs a deal o"
trust;" and she began to cry afresh.
"Hoo"ll be better able to talk to-morrow, sir," said the neighbour. "Bestcomfort now would be the feel of a child at her heart. I"m sorry theytook the babby."
"I"ll go for it," said Margaret. And in a few minutes she returned,carrying Johnnie, his face all smeared with eating, and his hands loadedwith treasures in the shape of shells, and bits of crystal, and the head ofa plaster figure. She placed him in his mother"s arms.
"There!" said the woman, "now you go. They"ll cry together, and comforttogether, better nor any one but a child can do. I"ll stop with her as longas I"m needed, and if yo" come to-morrow, yo" can have a deal o" wisetalk with her, that she"s not up to to-day."
As Margaret and her father went slowly up the street, she paused atHiggins"s closed door.
"Shall we go in?" asked her father. "I was thinking of him too."
They knocked. There was no answer, so they tried the door. It wasbolted, but they thought they heard him moving within.
"Nicholas!" said Margaret. There was no answer, and they might havegone away, believing the house to be empty, if there had not been someaccidental fall, as of a book, within.
"Nicholas!" said Margaret again. "It is only us. Won"t you let us come in?"
"No," said he. "I spoke as plain as I could, "bout using words, when Ibolted th" door. Let me be, this day."
Mr. Hale would have urged their desire, but Margaret placed her fingeron his lips.
"I don"t wonder at it," said she. "I myself long to be alone. It seems theonly thing to do one good after a day like this."
