Semanticate

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 			<p>During this speech Mistress Ivy’s face had begun working, and at the last words she burst into sobs. “Don’t think that, sir,” she gasped; “don’t think that! I remember well how my poor father used to sit looking at her of an evening, not a word passing his lips, but his eyes saying as clearly as if it had been his tongue, ‘No, Clem,’ (for my stepmother’s name was Clementine), ‘I don’t trust you no further than I see you, but, for all that, you can turn me round your little finger, because I’m a silly, besotted old fool, and we both know it.’ Oh! I’ve always said that my poor father had both his eyes wide open, in spite of him being the slave of her pretty face. It was not that he didn’t see, or couldn’t see⁠—what he lacked was the heart to speak out.”</p>
 			<p>“Poor fellow! And now, Mistress Ivy, I think you should tell me all you know and what it is that makes you think that, in spite of the medical evidence to the contrary, your father was murdered,” and he planted his elbows on the counter and looked at her squarely in the face.</p>
 			<p>But Mistress Ivy trimmed. “I didn’t say that poor father was poisoned with osiers. He died quiet and peaceful, father did.”</p>
-			<p>“All the same, you think there was foul play. I am not entirely disinterested in this matter, now that I know <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Leer is connected with it. I happen to bear him a grudge.”</p>
+			<p>“All the same, you think there was foul play. I am not entirely disinterested in this matter, now that I know <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Leer is connected with it. I happen to bear him a grudge.”</p>
 			<p>First Mistress Ivy shut the door on to the street, and then leant over the counter, so that her face was close to his, and said in a low voice: “Why, yes, I always did think there had been foul play, and I’ll tell you why. Just before my father died we’d been making jam. And one of poor father’s funny little ways was to like the scum of jam or jelly, and we used to keep some of every boiling in a saucer for him. Well, my own little brother Robin, and <em>her</em> little girl⁠—a little tot of three⁠—were buzzing round the fruit and sugar like a pair of little wasps, whining for this, sticking their fingers into that, and thinking they were helping with the jam-making. And suddenly my stepmother turned round and caught little Polly with her mouth all black with mulberry juice. And oh, the taking she was in! She caught her and shook her, and ordered her to spit out anything she might have in her mouth; and then, when she found out it was mulberries, she cooled down all of a sudden and told Polly she must be a good girl and never put anything in her mouth without asking first.</p>
 			<p>“Now, the jam was boiled in great copper cauldrons, and I noticed a little pipkin simmering on the hearth, and I asked my stepmother what it was. And she answered carelessly, ‘Oh, it’s some mulberry jelly, sweetened with honey instead of sugar, for my old grandfather at home.’ And at the time I didn’t give the matter another thought. But the evening before my father died⁠ ⁠… and I’ve never mentioned this to a soul except my poor Peppercorn⁠ ⁠… after supper he went and sat out in the porch to smoke his pipe, leaving her and him to their own doings in the kitchen; for she’d been brazen-faced enough, and my father weak enough, actually to have the fellow living there in the house. And my father was a queer man in that way⁠—too proud to sit where he wasn’t wanted, even in his own kitchen. And I’d come out, too, but I was hid from him by the corner of the house, for I had been waiting for the sun to go down to pick flowers, to take to a sick neighbour the next day. But I could hear him talking to his spaniel, Ginger, who was like his shadow and followed him wherever he went. I remember his words as clearly as if it had been yesterday: ‘Poor old Ginger!’ he said, ‘I thought it would be me who would dig your grave. But it seems not, Ginger, it seems not. Poor old lady, by this time tomorrow I’ll be as dumb as you are⁠ ⁠… and you’ll miss our talks, poor Ginger.’ And then Ginger gave a howl that made my blood curdle, and I came running round the corner of the house and asked father if he was ailing, and if I could fetch him anything. And he laughed, but it was as different as chalk from cheese from the way he laughed as a rule. For poor father was a frank-hearted, openhanded man, and not one to hoard up bitterness any more than he would hoard up money; but that laugh⁠—the last I heard him give⁠—was as bitter as gall. And he said, ‘Well, Ivy, my girl, would you like to fetch me some peonies and marigolds and shepherd’s thyme from a hill where the Silent People have danced, and make me a salad from them?’ And seeing me looking surprised, he laughed again, and said, ‘No, no. I doubt there are no flowers growing this side of the hills that could help your poor father. Come, give me a kiss⁠—you’ve always been a good girl.’ Now, these are flowers that old wives use in love potions, as I knew from my granny, who was very wise about herbs and charms, but father had always laughed at her for it, and I supposed he was fretting over my stepmother and Pugwalker, and wondering if he could win her heart back to him.</p>
 			<p>“But that night he died, and it was then that I started wondering about that jelly in the pipkin, for him, liking scum as he did, and always having a saucer of it set aside for him, it wouldn’t have been difficult to have boiled up some poison for him without any danger of other folks touching it. And Pugwalker knew all about herbs and suchlike, and could have told her what to use. For it was as plain as print that poor father knew he was going to die, and peonies make a good purge; and I’ve often wondered since if it was as a purge that he wanted these flowers. And that’s all I know, and perhaps it isn’t much, but it’s been enough to keep me awake many a night of my life wondering what I should have done if I’d been older. For I was only a little maid of ten at the time, with no one I could talk to, and as frightened of my stepmother as a bird of a snake. If I’d been one of the witnesses, I dare say it would have come out in court, but I was too young for that.”</p>

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 			<p>“Yes,” interrupted Toby, beginning to think that little Peter had stolen enough of his thunder, “she had torn off the top of one of the baskets, and I’ve never seen fruit like it; it was as if coloured stars had fallen from the sky into the grass, and were making all of the valley bright, and Cornflower, she was eating as if she would never stop⁠ ⁠… more like a bee among flowers, she was, than a common cow. And the widow and the doctor, though of course they were put out, they couldn’t help laughing to see her. And her milk the next morning⁠—oh my! It tasted of roses and shepherd’s thyme, but she never came back to the herd, for the widow sold her to a farmer who lived twenty miles away, and⁠ ⁠…”</p>
 			<p>But Luke could contain himself no longer. “You little rascals!” he cried, “to think of all the trouble there is in Lud just now, and the magistrates and the town guard racking their brains to find out how the stuff gets across the border, and three little bantams like you knowing all about it, and not telling a soul! Why did you keep it to yourselves like that?”</p>
 			<p>“We were frightened of the widow,” said Toby sheepishly. “You won’t tell that we’ve blabbed,” he added in an imploring voice.</p>
-			<p>“No, I’ll see that you don’t get into trouble,” said Luke. “Here’s the knife, and a coin to toss up for it with⁠ ⁠… toasted Cheese! A nice place this, we’ve come to! Are you sure, young Toby, it was <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Leer you saw?” Toby nodded his head emphatically. “Aye, it was <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Leer and no mistake⁠—here’s my hand on it.” And he stuck out a brown little paw.</p>
-			<p>“Well, I’m blessed! <em><abbr>Dr.</abbr> Leer!</em>” exclaimed Luke; and Ranulph gave a little mocking laugh.</p>
+			<p>“No, I’ll see that you don’t get into trouble,” said Luke. “Here’s the knife, and a coin to toss up for it with⁠ ⁠… toasted Cheese! A nice place this, we’ve come to! Are you sure, young Toby, it was <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Leer you saw?” Toby nodded his head emphatically. “Aye, it was <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Leer and no mistake⁠—here’s my hand on it.” And he stuck out a brown little paw.</p>
+			<p>“Well, I’m blessed! <em><abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Leer!</em>” exclaimed Luke; and Ranulph gave a little mocking laugh.</p>
 			<p>Luke fell into a brown study; surprise, indignation, and pleasant visions of himself swaggering in Lud, praised and flattered by all as the man who had run the smugglers to earth, chasing each other across the surface of his brain. And, in the light of Toby’s story, could it be that the stranger whose mysterious conversation with the widow he had overheard was none other than the popular, kindly doctor, Endymion Leer? It seemed almost incredible.</p>
 			<p>But on one thing he was resolved⁠—for once he would assert himself, and Ranulph should not spend another night at the widow Gibberty’s farm.</p>
 			<p>Toby won the toss and pocketed the knife with a grin of satisfaction, and by degrees the talk became as flickering and intermittent as the light of the dying fire, which they were too idle to feed with sticks; and finally it was quenched to silence, and they yielded to the curious drugged sensation that comes from being out of doors and wide awake at night.</p>

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 			<p>The moon was on the wane, but still sufficiently full to give a good light. She was, indeed, an orchard thief, for no fruit being left to rob, she had robbed the leaves of all their colour.</p>
 			<p>“Poor old moon!” chuckled Master Nathaniel, who was now in the highest of spirits, “always filching colours with which to paint her own pale face, and all in vain! But just look at your friend, at Master Herm. He <em>does</em> look knowing!”</p>
 			<p>For in the moonlight the old herm had found his element, and under her rays his stone flickered and glimmered into living silver flesh, while his archaic smile had gained a new significance.</p>
-			<p>“Excuse, me, sir,” said Hazel timidly, “but I couldn’t help wondering if the gentleman you suspected was⁠ ⁠… <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Leer.”</p>
+			<p>“Excuse, me, sir,” said Hazel timidly, “but I couldn’t help wondering if the gentleman you suspected was⁠ ⁠… <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Leer.”</p>
 			<p>“What makes you think so?” asked Master Nathaniel sharply.</p>
 			<p>“I don’t quite know,” faltered Hazel. “I just⁠—wondered.”</p>
 			<p>Before long they were joined by the labourer and the lawman blacksmith⁠—a burly, jovial, red-haired rustic of about fifty.</p>

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 			<p>The blacksmith winked.</p>
 			<p>“Come, come!” cried Master Nathaniel impatiently. “Have you seen him since? This is no time for beating about the bush.”</p>
 			<p>“Well, perhaps I have,” said the blacksmith slowly, “trotting about Swan, as brisk and as pleased with himself as a fox with a goose in his mouth. And I’ve often wondered whether it wasn’t my duty as lawman to speak out⁠ ⁠… but, after all, it was very long ago, and his life seemed to be of better value than his death, for he was a wonderfully clever doctor and did a powerful lot of good.”</p>
-			<p>“It⁠—it was <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Leer, then?” asked Hazel in a low voice; and the blacksmith winked.</p>
+			<p>“It⁠—it was <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Leer, then?” asked Hazel in a low voice; and the blacksmith winked.</p>
 			<p>“Well, I think we should be getting back to the house,” said Master Nathaniel, “there’s still some business before us.” And, lowering his voice, he added, “Not very pleasant business, I fear.”</p>
 			<p>“I suppose your Honour means belling the cat?” said the blacksmith, adding with a rueful laugh, “I can’t imagine a nastier job. She’s a cat with claws.”</p>
 			<p>As they walked up to the house, the labourer whispered to Hazel, “Please, missy, does it mean that the mistress killed her husband? They always say so in the village, but⁠ ⁠…”</p>

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 			<p>And now, this terrible document had arrived⁠—it was like an attempt to cut off his right hand. His first instinct on receiving it was to rush off and take counsel with Endymion Leer himself⁠—surely the omniscient resourceful doctor would be able to reduce to wind and thistledown even a thing as solid as a warrant. But respect for the Law, and the belief that though everything else may turn out vanity and delusion, the Law has the terrifying solidity of Reality itself, were deep-rooted in Master Polydore. If there was a warrant out against Endymion Leer⁠—well, then, he must bend his neck to the yoke like any other citizen and stand his trial.</p>
 			<p>Again he read through the warrant, in the hopes that on a second it would lose its reality⁠—prove to be a forgery, or a hoax. Alas! Its genuineness was but too unmistakable⁠—the Law had spoken.</p>
 			<p>Master Polydore let his hands fall to his sides in an attitude of limp dismay; then he sighed heavily; then he rose slowly to his feet⁠—there was nothing for it but to summon Mumchance, and let the warrant instantly be put into effect. As it was possible, nay, almost certain, that the Doctor would be able to clear himself triumphantly in Court, the quicker the business was put through, the sooner Master Polydore would recover his right hand.</p>
-			<p>When Mumchance arrived, Master Polydore said, in a voice as casual as he could make it, “Oh! yes, Mumchance, yes⁠ ⁠… I asked you to come, because,” and he gave a little laugh, “a warrant has actually arrived⁠—of course, there must be some gross misunderstanding behind it, and there will be no difficulty in getting it cleared up in Court⁠—but, as a matter of fact, a warrant has arrived from the lawman of Swan-on-the-Dapple, against⁠ ⁠… well, against none other than <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Endymion Leer!” and again he laughed.</p>
+			<p>When Mumchance arrived, Master Polydore said, in a voice as casual as he could make it, “Oh! yes, Mumchance, yes⁠ ⁠… I asked you to come, because,” and he gave a little laugh, “a warrant has actually arrived⁠—of course, there must be some gross misunderstanding behind it, and there will be no difficulty in getting it cleared up in Court⁠—but, as a matter of fact, a warrant has arrived from the lawman of Swan-on-the-Dapple, against⁠ ⁠… well, against none other than <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Endymion Leer!” and again he laughed.</p>
 			<p>“Yes, your Worship,” said Mumchance; and, not only did his face express no surprise, but into the bargain it looked distinctly grim.</p>
 			<p>“Absurd, isn’t it?” said Master Polydore, “and <em>most</em> inconvenient.”</p>
 			<p>Mumchance cleared his throat: “A murderer’s a murderer, your Worship,” he said. “Me and my wife, we were spending last evening at Mothgreen⁠—my wife’s cousin keeps the tavern there, and he was celebrating his silver wedding⁠—if your Worship will excuse me mentioning such things⁠—and among the friends he’d asked in was the plaintiff and her aunt⁠ ⁠… and, well⁠ ⁠… there be some things that be just too big for any defendant to dodge. But I’ll say no more, your Worship.”</p>

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 			<p>In view of the disturbance caused among the populace by the arrest of Endymion Leer, the Senate deemed it advisable that his trial, and that of the widow Gibberty, should take precedence of all other legal business; so as soon as the two important witnesses, Peter Pease and Marjory Beach, reached Lud-in-the-Mist, it was fixed for an early date.</p>
 			<p>Never, in all the annals of Dorimare, had a trial been looked forward to with such eager curiosity. It was to begin at nine o’clock in the morning, and by seven o’clock the hall of justice was already packed, while a seething crowd thronged the courtyard and overflowed into the High Street beyond.</p>
-			<p>On the front seats sat Dame Marigold, Dame Jessamine, Dame Dreamsweet and the other wives of magistrates; the main body of the hall was occupied by tradesmen and their wives, and other quiet, well-to-do members of the community, and behind them seethed the noisy, impudent, hawking, catcalling riffraff⁠—’prentices, sailors, pedlars, strumpets; showing clearly on what side were their sympathies by such ribald remarks as, “My old granny’s pet cockatoo is terrible fond of cherries, I think we should tell the Town Yeomanry, and have it locked up as a smuggler,” or, “Where’s Mumchance! Send for Mumchance and the Mayor! Two hundred years ago an old gaffer ate a gallon of crab soup and died the same night⁠—arrest <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Leer and hang him for it.”</p>
+			<p>On the front seats sat Dame Marigold, Dame Jessamine, Dame Dreamsweet and the other wives of magistrates; the main body of the hall was occupied by tradesmen and their wives, and other quiet, well-to-do members of the community, and behind them seethed the noisy, impudent, hawking, catcalling riffraff⁠—’prentices, sailors, pedlars, strumpets; showing clearly on what side were their sympathies by such ribald remarks as, “My old granny’s pet cockatoo is terrible fond of cherries, I think we should tell the Town Yeomanry, and have it locked up as a smuggler,” or, “Where’s Mumchance! Send for Mumchance and the Mayor! Two hundred years ago an old gaffer ate a gallon of crab soup and died the same night⁠—arrest <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Leer and hang him for it.”</p>
 			<p>But as the clocks struck nine and Master Polydore Vigil, in his priestly-looking purple robes of office embroidered in gold with the sun and the moon and the stars, and the other ten judges clad in scarlet and ermine filed slowly in and, bowing gravely to the assembly, took their seats on the dais, silence descended on the hall; for the fear of the Law was inbred in every Dorimarite, even the most disreputable.</p>
 			<p>Nevertheless, there was a low hum of excitement when Mumchance in his green uniform, carrying an axe, and two or three others of the Town Yeomanry, marched in with the two prisoners, who took their places in the dock.</p>
 			<p>Though Endymion Leer had for long been one of the most familiar figures in Lud, all eyes were turned on him with as eager a curiosity as if he had been some savage from the Amber Desert, the first of his kind to be seen in Dorimare; and such curious tricks can the limelight of the Law play on reality that many there thought that they could see his evil sinister life writ in clear characters on his familiar features.</p>