THE DUKE OF STOCKBRIDGE. Edward Bellamy

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      "Sir," said Edwards, "you must be in need of refreshment, after your ride. Come in, sir, and come in gentlemen, all. We shall discuss the Providential issue of the convention more commodiously within doors, over a suitable provision of Jamaica."

      The suggestion seemed to be timely and acceptable, and one by one the gentlemen, standing aside with ceremonious politeness to let one another precede, entered the store, Parson West leading, for it was neither according to the requirements of decorum, or his own private tastes, that the minister should decline a convivial invitation of this character.

      "What d'ee say, Laban?"

      "What did they dew?"

      "Did they 'bolish the loryers?"

      "Wat did they dew baout more bills, Laban, hey?"

      "What did they dew baout the taxes?"

      "Why don't ye speak, man?"

      "What's the matter on ye?" were some of the volley of questions with which the people hailed their chop-fallen deputy on his return, crowding forward around him, plucking his sleeves and pushing him to get his attention, for he regarded them with a dazed and sleep-walking expression. Finally he found his voice, and said:

      "Squire says ez haow they didn' dew nothin."

      There was a moment's dead silence, then the clamor burst out again.

      "Not dew nothin?"

      "What d'ye mean, Laban?"

      "Nothin baout the taxes?"

      "Nothin baout the loryers?"

      "Nothin baout the sheriffs' fees?"

      "Nothin baout jailin for debt?"

      "Nothin baout takin prop'ty tew a valiation, Laban?"

      "Nothin baout movin govment aout o' Bosting?"

      "Nothin, I tells ye," answered Laban, in the same tone of utter discouragement. "Squire says ez haow the convenshin hain't done nothin 'cept tew resolve that ez courts sh'd go on an the laws sh'd be kerried aout an disorderly folks sh'd be punished."

      The men looked from one to another of each other's faces, and each wore the same blank look. Finally Israel Goodrich said, nodding his head with an expression of utter dejection at each word:

      "Wal, I swow, I be kinder disappinted."

      There was a space of silence.

      "So be I," said Peleg.

      Presently Paul Hubbard's metallic voice was heard.

      "We were fools not to have known it. Didn't we elect a General Court last year a purpose to do something for us, and come to get down to Bosting didn't the lawyers buy em up or fool em so they didn't do a thing? The people won't git righted till they take hold and right themselves, as they did in the war."

      "Is that all the Squire said, Laban, every word?" asked Israel, and as he did so all eyes turned on Laban with a faint gleam of hope that there might yet be some crumb of comfort. Laban scratched his head.

      "He said suthin baout govment bein none o' our business an haow we'd a better go hum an not be loafin roun'."

      "Ef govment hain't no business o' ourn I'd like tew know what in time we fit the King fer," said Peleg.

      "That's so, wy didn' ye ass Squire that queschin?" said Meshech Little.

      "By gosh," exclaimed Abner Rathbun, with a sudden vehemence, "ef govment ain't no business o' ourn they made a mistake when they teached us that fightin was."

      "What dew ye mean?" asked Israel half timorously.

      "Never mind wat I mean," replied Abner, "on'y a wum 'll turn wen it's trod on."

      "I don' bleeve but that Laban's mistook wat the Squire said. Ye ain't none tew clever, ye know, yerself, Laban, and I callate that ye didn' more'n half understan' wat Squire meant."

      It was Ezra Phelps who announced this cheering view, which instantly found general favor, and poor Laban's limited mental powers were at once the topic of comments more plain spoken than flattering. Paul Hubbard, indeed, shook his head and smiled bitterly at this revulsion of hopefulness, but even Laban himself seemed eager to find ground for believing himself to have been, in this instance, an ass.

      "Ye see the hull thing's in a nutshell," said Abner. "Either Laban's a fool, or else the hull caounty convenshin o' Berkshire is fools an wuss, an I callate it's Laban."

      Perhaps the back room of the store lacked for Sedgwick, a comparatively recent resident of Stockbridge, those charms of familiarity it possessed for the other gentlemen, for even as Abner was speaking, he came out alone. As he saw the still waiting and undiminished crowd of people, he frowned angrily, and mounting his horse, rode directly toward them. Their sullen aspect, which might have caused another to avoid them, was his very reason for seeking an encounter. As he approached, his piercing eye rested a moment on the face of every man, and as it did so, each eye, impelled by a powerfull magnetism, rose deferentially to his, and every cap was pulled off.

      "What is it, Ezra?" he demanded sharply, seeing that Ezra wanted to address him.

      "If you please, Squire," said Ezra, cap in hand, "Laban's kinder stupid, an we callate he muster got what ye said tuther eend to. Will ye kindly tell us what the convenshin did?"

      Stopping his horse, Sedgwick replied, in a loud, clear voice.

      "The convention declared that the laws shall be enforced, and all disorderly persons punished with the stocks and with lashes on the bare back."

      "Is that all?" faltered Ezra.

      "All!" exclaimed Sedgwick, as his eye rested a moment on every face before him. "Let every one of you look out that he does not find it too much."

      And now he suddenly broke off in a tone of sharp command, "Disperse and go to your houses on the pains and penalties of Sabbath breaking. The sun is down," and he pointed to the last glimmer of the yellow orb as it sank below the mountains. The people stood still just long enough to verify the fact with a glance, that holy time had begun, and instantly the green was covered with men and boys swiftly seeking shelter within their doors from the eye of an angry Deity, while from the store hastily emerged Squire Woodbridge, Dr. Partridge and the parson, and made their several ways homeward as rapidly as dignity would permit.

      Perhaps ten minutes later, Captain Perez Hamlin might have been seen pricking his jaded horse across the deserted green. He looked around curiously at the new buildings and recent changes in the appearance of the village, and once or twice seemed a little at loss about his route. But finally he turned into a lane leading northerly toward the hill, just at the foot of which, beside the brook that skirted it, stood a weather-beaten house of a story and a half. As he caught sight of this, Perez spurred his horse to a gallop, and in a few moments the mother, through her tears of joy, was studying out in the stern face of the man, the lineaments of the boy whose soldier's belt she had buckled round him nine years before.

      Chapter Fifth.

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