The Ordeal of Richard Feverel

d the Fourteenth Birthday to

to a brilliant sun. Banks of moveless cloud hung about the horizon, mounded to the west, where slept

ly Britons. The whole park was beginning to be astir and resound with holiday cries. Sir Austin Feverel, a thorough good Tory, was no game-preserver, and could be popular whenever he chose, which Sir Miles Papworth, on the other side of the river, a fast-handed Whig and terror to poachers, never could b

ey were going, and how late it was in the day, and suggesting that the lads of Lobourne would be calling out for them, and Sir Austin requiring their presence, without getting any atte

unicated his sentiments to Ripton, who said they were those of a girl: an offensive remark, remembering which, Richard

look wonderfully like one, Ripton lifted

at the loss of the birds, owing to Ripton's bad shot, and was really the injured party.

, whether I am or not," says

at his defier an instant. He then informed him that he certainly s

Ripton, rocking on his f

he defiance and avoid monotony, as he progressed, while Ripton bobbed his head every time in assent, as it were, to his comrade's accuracy, and

eliberately, Richard rep

ared precipitately; perhaps sorry when the deed was done, for he was a kind-hearted lad, and as Richard simply bowed in acknowledgm

fight here

u like," rep

calm and alertness, formed a spirited picture of a young combatant. As for Ripton, he was all abroad, and fought in schoolboy style - that is, he rushed at the foe head foremost, and struck like a windmill. He was a lumpy boy. When he did hit, he made himself felt; but he was at the mercy of science. To see him come dashing in, blinking and puffing and whirling his arms abroad while the felling blow went straight between them, you perceived that he was fighting a fight of desperation, and knew it. For the dreaded alternative glared him in the face that, if he yielded, he must look like what he had been twenty times calumniously called; and he would die rather than yield, and swing his windmill till he dropped. Poor boy! he dropped frequently. The gallant

ey trotted in concert through the depths of the wood, not stopping till

iercer with its natural war-paint than the boy felt. Nevertheless, he squared up dauntlessly on the new ground,

houts the

on sense, "I'm tired of knocking you down. I'll sa

o consult with honour, who b

on had gained his point, and Richard decidedly had the best of it. So they were on eq

r neighbours, in search of a stupider race, happily oblivious of the laws and conditions of trespass; unconscious, too, that they were poaching on the demesne of the notorious Farmer Blaize, the free-trade farmer under the shield of the Papworths, no worshipper of the Griffin between two Wheatsheaves; destined to be much allied with

ulting over it, when the farmer's portentous figure burst upon

sport, gentle

did bird!" radiant R

gave an admonitory

e clap eye

d Ripton, who was not bl

ew up his chin, a

er, you do. Tall ye what 'tis!" He changed his banter to business, "That bird's mine! Now you jest hand him over, and sheer o

opened h

l stay where y'are!" continued the farm

stay," quo

f you will have't

wing of the bird, on which both boys flung themse

Farmer Blaize that day! The boys wriggled, in spite of themselves. It was like a relentless serpent coiling, and biting, and stinging their young veins to madness. Probably they felt the disgrace of the contortions they were made to go through more than

astly bird,"

terest," roared the far

e was but that course open to them.

passion, "I'd have shot you, if I'd been loaded. Mind! if

f they had had a mortal good tanning and were satisfied, for when they wanted a further instalment of the same they were to come for it to Belthorpe Farm, and there it was in pickle: The boys meantime exploding in menaces and threats of vengeance, on w

aize's broad mark, and his whole mind drunken with a sudden reve

to. Ripton was familiar with the rod, a monster much despoiled of his terrors by intimacy. Birch-fever was past with this boy. The horrible sense of shame, self-loathing, universal hatred, impotent vengeance, as if the spirit were steeped in abysmal blackness, which comes upon a courageous and sensitive youth condemned

d solely from their glaring impracticability even to his young intelligence. A sweeping and consummate vengeance for the indignity alone should satisfy him. Something tremendous must be done, and done without delay. At one moment he thought of killing all the farmer's cattle; next of killing him; challenging him to sing

heir chances of fulfilment, "how I wish you'd have let me notch him, Ricky! I'm a safe shot. I never miss. I should feel quite jolly if I'd spanked him once. We should h

as deaf, and he trudged steadil

course of another minute he was enduring the extremes of famine, and ventured to question his leader whither he was being conducted. Raynham was out of sight. They were a long way down the valley, miles from Lobourne, in a country of sour pools, yellow brooks, rank pasturage, desolate heath. Solitary

ired with a voice of the last tim

his silence to r

't you awfully hungry?" he gasped vehemently, in a

ichard's br

ou haven't had anything to eat since breakfast! Not hungry? I declare

that would have actuated a simila

t all events, tell us wh

f the dreaded hue, was really becoming discoloured. To upbraid him would be cruel. Richard lifted his head, surveyed the position, and exclaiming