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have you ever been betrayed？’
‘I am guilty； and yet innocent； wrong； yet right； good in
intention； though constrained to shield and aid the bad。 Ask me no
more questions； sir； but believe that I am rather to be pitied than
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condemned。 I must leave my house to…morrow； for while I stay
there； it is haunted。 My future dwelling； if I am to live in peace；
must be a secret。 If my poor boy should ever stray this way； do not
tempt him to disclose it or have him watched when he returns； for
if we are hunted； we must fly again。 And now this load is off my
mind； I beseech you—and you； dear Miss Haredale； too—to trust
me if you can； and think of me kindly as you have been used to do。
If I die and cannot tell my secret even then （for that may come to
pass）； it will sit the lighter on my breast in that hour for this day’s
work； and on that day； and every day until it comes； I will pray for
and thank you both； and trouble you no more。
With that； she would have left them； but they detained her； and
with many soothing words and kind entreaties； besought her to
consider what she did； and above all to repose more freely upon
them； and say what weighed so sorely on her mind。 Finding her
deaf to their persuasions； Mr Haredale suggested； as a last
resource； that she should confide in Emma； of whom； as a young
person and one of her own sex； she might stand in less dread than
of himself。 From this proposal； however； she recoiled with the
same indescribable repugnance she had manifested when they
met。 The utmost that could be wrung from her was； a promise that
she would receive Mr Haredale at her own house next evening；
and in the mean time reconsider her determination and their
dissuasions—though any change on her part； as she told them；
was quite hopeless。 This condition made at last； they reluctantly
suffered her to depart； since she would neither eat nor drink
within the house； and she； and Barnaby； and Grip； accordingly
went out as they had come； by the private stair and garden…gate；
seeing and being seen of no one by the way。
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It was remarkable in the raven that during the whole interview
he had kept his eye on his book with exactly the air of a very sly
human rascal； who； under the mask of pretending to read hard；
was listening to everything。 He still appeared to have the
conversation very strongly in his mind； for although； when they
were alone again； he issued orders for the instant preparation of
innumerable kettles for purposes of tea； he was thoughtful； and
rather seemed to do so from an abstract sense of duty； than with
any regard to making himself agreeable； or being what is
commonly called good company。
They were to return by the coach。 As there was an interval of
full two hours before it started； and they needed rest and some
refreshment； Barnaby begged hard for a visit to the Maypole。 But
his mother； who had no wish to be recognised by any of those who
had known her long ago； and who feared besides that Mr Haredale
might； on second thoughts； despatch some messenger to that place
of entertainment in quest of her； proposed to wait in the
churchyard instead。 As it was easy for Barnaby to buy and carry
thither such humble viands as they required； he cheerfully
assented； and in the churchyard they sat down to take their frugal
dinner。
Here again； the raven was in a highly reflective state； walking
up and down when he had dined； with an air of elderly
complacency which was strongly suggestive of his having his
hands under his coat…tails； and appearing to read the tombstones
with a very critical taste。 Sometimes； after a long inspection of an
epitaph； he would strop his beak upon the grave to which it
referred； and cry in his hoarse tones； ‘I’m a devil； I’m a devil； I’m a
devil！’ but whether he addressed his observations to any supposed
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person below； or merely threw them off as a general remark； is
matter of uncertainty。
It was a quiet pretty spot； but a sad one for Barnaby’s mother；
for Mr Reuben Haredale lay there； and near the vault in which his
ashes rested； was a stone to the memory of her own husband； with
a brief inscription recording how and when he had lost his life。
She sat here； thoughtful and apart； until their time was out； and
the distant horn told that the coach was coming。
Barnaby； who had been sleeping on the grass； sprung up
quickly at the sound； and Grip； who appeared to understand it
equally well； walked into his basket straightway； entreating society
in general （as though he intended a kind of satire upon them in
connection with churchyards） never to say die on any terms。 They
were soon on the coach…top and rolling along the road。
It went round by the Maypole； and stopped at the door。 Joe was
from home； and Hugh came sluggishly out to hand up the parcel
that it called for。 There was no fear of old John coming out。 They
could see him from the coach…roof fast asleep in his cosy bar。 It
was a part of John’s character。 He made a point of going to sleep
at the coach’s time。 He despised gadding about； he looked upon
coaches as things that ought to be indicted； as disturbers of the
peace of mankind； as restless； bustling； busy； horn…blowing
contrivances； quite beneath the dignity of men； and only suited to
giddy girls that did nothing but chatter and go a…shopping。 ‘We
know nothing about coaches here； sir；’ John would say； if any
unlucky stranger made inquiry touching the offensive vehicles；
‘we don’t book for ’em； we’d rather not； they’re more trouble than
they’re worth； with their noise and rattle。 If you like to wait for ’em
you can； but we don’t know anything about ’em； they may call and
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they may not—there’s a carrier—he was looked upon as quite
good enough for us； when I was a boy。’
She dropped her veil as Hugh climbed up； and while he hung
behind； and talked to Barnaby in whispers。 But neither he nor any
other person spoke to her； or noticed her； or had any curiosity
about her； and so； an alien； she visited and left the village where
she had been born； and had lived a merry child； a comely girl； a
happy wife—where she had known all her enjoyment of life； and
had entered on its hardest sorrows。
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Chapter 26
nd you’re not surprised to hear this； Varden？’ said Mr
Haredale。 ‘Well！ You and she have always been the best
‘A
friends； and you should understand her if anybody
does。’
‘I ask your pardon； sir；’ rejoined the locksmith。 ‘I didn’t say I
understood her。 I wouldn’t have the presumption to say that of
any woman。 It’s not so easily done。 But I am not so much
surprised； sir； as you expected me to be； certainly。’
‘May I ask why not； my good friend？’
‘I hav