And not one of these children got to bed before
half after midnight. But I was determined to have 'em at chapel this
morning. And not sorry I am I went! Eh, mester, what a Virginius you'd
ha' made! I never heard preaching like it--not as I've heard much!"
"And you'll never hear anything like it again, missis," said Jock, "for
I've preached my last sermon."
"Nay, nay!" Mrs Clowes deprecated.
"I've preached my last sermon," said Jock again. "And if I've saved a
soul wi' it, missis...!" He looked at her steadily and then drank.
"I won't say as ye haven't," said Mrs Clowes, lowering her eyes.
VII
Rather less than a week later, on a darkening night, a van left the town
of Bursley by the Moorthorne Road on its way to Axe-in-the-Moors, which
is the metropolis of the wild wastes that cut off northern Staffordshire
from Derbyshire. This van was the last of Mrs Clowes's caravanserai, and
almost the last to leave the Fair. Owing to popular interest in the
events of Jock-at-a-Venture's public career, in whose meshes Mrs Clowes
had somehow got caught, the booth of Mrs Clowes had succeeded beyond any
other booth, and had kept open longer and burned more naphtha and taken
far more money.
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