The Reckoning by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

people, most of 'em, and they just want to be left alone to get on with their lives, like everyone else. But just now there are so many people out of work, and hungry – that's a dangerous combi nation. And if the harvest fails ...' He glanced out of the window at the continuing steady rain. 'It's the organisers we need to stop – the educated men who stir up the poor for their own ends.'
    ‘ It was so in Paris,' Héloïse said quietly. 'The bourgeoises were the real revolutionaires. The poor were only their weapon. Perhaps it is always so.'
    ‘ These Hampden Clubs, for instance,' Edward went on, broodingly, 'I'd have banned 'em, if it were up to me. Sidmouth's had reports that in some villages they're only waiting for the signal from London to rise up. They really believe there's going to be a march on the Tower, the palace surrounded and the Government overthrown. And for what? Do they really think a revolution will put more bread in their mouths?'
    ‘ James says it can't happen here – in England, in York shire.’
    Edward was torn between the need to reassure her and the desire to educate her. 'He may be right,' he said shortly. ‘There've been alarms before, of course, and they came to nothing. But since 1789 there's no real security anywhere. England isn't France, but everyone knows it can happen. We've got to guard against that, and stamp out any little flames before they become a forest fire.' He patted her arm and stood up. 'Don't worry, though – we're quite safe here at Morland Place. Our own people are true, thank God! You won't come to any harm in this neighbourhood.’
    Tiger yawned noisily, and thrashed his tail as an encou ragement to the movement. 'I must be off,' Edward recol lected. 'Compton's got a brace of poachers for me – caught red-handed with their pockets full of my birds. Not local lads, however – tramping men, so I understand. Probably Irish.'
    ‘Irish?'
    ‘ There's altogether too many of them around these days. They come over to work in the manufactories in Lancashire, and then when there's no work they wander all over the coun tryside making a nuisance of themselves. I shall have this pair flogged – maybe they'll spread the word to their friends to keep away.' Tiger nudged him, and he touched the dog's head thoughtfully, his mind wandering off on another track. 'You ought to have another dog,' he said. 'It was bad luck, losing both of yours like that last winter, though of course Kithra was an old dog, and Castor – well, distemper can strike any time. But you must miss having a dog at your heels. I know I'd feel naked without one. Would you like a puppy? I've got some very promising whelps coming up now. I'd be happy to start training one for you.’
    Héloïse smiled. 'It's very kind of you, dear Ned, but I truly don't think I have time at the moment for a dog. It would have a very dull time of it, following me around the house. Perhaps when things get easier –'
    ‘ Yes. Very well, just as you like. I just thought you might feel lonely. You seem to be always on your own these days, with Mathilde and Marie both gone.’
    The wistfulness of his voice told her it was his own loneli ness that had prompted these thoughts, though in his busy life he probably had never time fully to be aware of it. The distant sensation of emptiness had translated itself in his mind to a concern for Héloïse's lack of companions.
    ‘ Of course I miss them,' she said, 'but I shall have Sophie again soon, and Miss Rosedale.'
    ‘ Yes, of course. When is Sophie coming back? She seems to have been gone for ever.'
    ‘ Soon. She'll be coming soon. Miss Rosedale writes very comfortably of her, that her spirits are much raised by her holiday.'
    ‘ Good. I miss her sweet face, and the music in the even ings,' Edward said revealingly, and went away to interview his poachers.
    Left alone, Héloïse did not at once return to her books. Her mind was full of confused images, of poachers and peasants, of