-Lady Catherine de Bourgh
The next day was Christmas Eve, and I was sitting at the table making a list of what we needed to do when I suddenly heard a knocking on the door. I hurried to answer it, hoping it wasn’t a parishioner in need, because the snow sat in thick drifts around Hunsford Parsonage after the last night.
“Ma’am? Ma’am?” It was a young boy, and I recognized him as Pip, a lad of about 9 or 10 who had been there when I had gone to investigate the pig sty. He was the youngest stableboy, an orphaned child who had been taken in by Rosings and was being trained to help manage the farm and animals.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’ve spotted Wilberforce!” he cried excitedly. “The pig you was looking for, ma’am! And there’s no one else I can tell about it; they’re gone to town! Can you come with me and fetch ‘im?”
“Give me a moment,” I said, slightly faintly.
The snow was so deep and thick that I felt slightly green with the idea that I would be responsible for plowing through it to capture a pig, especially when I didn’t have the faintest ideahowto capture a pig.
I would have to ask for help. From the last person I would have expected.
My husband.
Mr. Collins bounded up with alacrity, and I wondered why I had been slow to ask him for help before. He was full of anxious readiness to help, insisting on wrapping me in a layer of coverings and coats and scarves so thick that I could barely breathe. Even Pip got a big hat and additional scarf and gloves to wear, Mr. Collins’ extra coat sitting so big on him that he looked positively swallowed-up by it.
Then we went out into the snowy countryside and began to follow Pip to where he had seen Wilberforce.
It seemed like an endless amount of heavy tromping later, my feet feeling frozen despite my heavy socks.
I began to despair that we would ever find the pigs. But my husband was indefatigable, lifting me easily around deep snowdrifts and frozen puddles.
Then I suddenly clutched his sleeve. “It’s Wilberforce and Julia!” I cried.
He whirled around. “How can you tell?” he yelped.
“I just can,” I said. “Those are two of Lady Catherine’s pigs. How many other prize-winningly impressive pigs are out here by these crofters’ cottages? It is them.”
William squinted at the large, ungainly animals. “Now that you mention it,” he said. “The animal here does have a very fineshine to its glistening flanks, that marks it indubitably as one of Lady Catherine’s own. And the other one exudes a rare porcine health and vigor.”
“Indeed, my dear,” I said dryly. “Now what is the best way to encourage them to go back to their own pen?”
“Certainly we couldn’t leave Lady Catherine’s pigs out here to be battered and blown about by the coarse elements,” my husband said.
I refrained from saying a pig of these dimensions could hardly be said to be at risk of being blown about.
But it turned out it wasn’t too hard at all. William brought out a little piece of cheese from his pocket and held it out to Wilberforce and Julia. They came snuffling over eagerly and he put a big hand on each one and began to walk them the long way back to their homes, assisted by the stableboy Pip, who seemed to have gained energy and buoyancy of his own, and to find the sights of a clergyman leading two pigs to be hugely amusing.
I trudged behind them, exhausted, and relieved that my husband had been there. I didn’t know what I would have done by myself. I hadn’t even had the foresight to bring cheese!
“Somebody definitely let these pigs go deliberately,” I said. “I don’t think they would have the wherewithal to break free on their own.”
“It was her wot done it,” Pip said.
“Who is her?” I asked.
We stopped for a break, Mr. Collins offering the rest of the square of the cheese to Pip.
“The sour-faced lady at the big house!” he said excitedly, his voice rising like the sound of a banshee.
My husband and I looked at each other in shock.
“Is it possible, young man,” William asked, “that you are speaking of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”
“If she’s the sour-faced puss at the big house, then yes, I am,” he said, stuffing the entire chunk of cheese into his mouth.
