But now all eyes at that end of the room were bent on Silas Marner;
the Squire himself had risen, and asked angrily, 'How's this?-
what's this?- what do you do coming in here in this way?'
'I'm come for the doctor- I want the doctor,' Silas had said, in
the first moment, to Mr Crackenthorp.
'Why, what's the matter, Marner?' said the rector. 'The doctor's
here; but say quietly what you want him for.'
'It's a woman,' said Silas, speaking low, and half-breathlessly,
just as Godfrey came up. 'She's dead, I think- dead in the snow at the
Stone-pits- not far from my door.'
Godfrey felt a great throb: there was one terror in his mind at
that moment: it was, that the woman might not be dead. That was an
evil terror- an ugly inmate to have found a nestling-place in
Godfrey's kindly disposition; but no disposition is a security from
evil wishes to a man whose happiness hangs on duplicity.
'Hush, hush!' said Mr Crackenthorp. 'Go out into the hall there.
I'll fetch the doctor to you. Found a woman in the snow- and thinks
she's dead,' he added, speaking low to the Squire. 'Better say as
little about it as possible: it will shock the ladies. Just tell
them a poor woman is ill from cold and hunger. I'll go and fetch
Kimble.'
By this time, however, the ladies had pressed forward, curious to
know what could have brought the solitary linen-weaver there under
such strange circumstances, and interested in the pretty child, who,
half alarmed and half attracted by the brightness and the numerous
company, now frowned and hid her face, now lifted up her head again
and looked round placably, until a touch or a coaxing word brought
back the frown, and made her bury her face with new determination.
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