~145~~
“Aye, that's a dolt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of
his horse.”
--_Merchant of Venice_.
“Yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. What's
to be said to him? He's fortified against any denial.”
--_Twelfth Night_.
“Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible
To every eyeball else.”
--_Tempest_.
ON arriving at the inn, to which I was forced to return to order my
horse, I perceived Lawless's tandem waiting at the door, surrounded by
a crowd of admiring rustics, with Shrimp, his arms folded with an air of
nonchalant defiance, which seemed to say, “Oh! run over me by all means
if you choose,” stationed directly in front of the leader's head. On
entering the parlour I found Lawless busily engaged in pulling on a pair
of refractory boots, and looking very hot and red in the face from the
exertion.
“How are you, Fairlegh? how are you? That stupid fool has made 'em too
tight for anybody but Tom Thumb, and be hanged to him. Ever read fairy
tales, Fairlegh? I did when I was a little shaver, and wore cock-tailed
petticoats--all bare legs and bustle--'a Highland lad my love was born';
that style of thing, rather, you know; never believed 'em, though:
wasn't to be done even then; eh? Well, this is a puzzler; I can't get
'em on. Where's the fellow they call Boots? Here, you sir, come and see
if you can pull on these confounded namesakes of yours, and I'll tip you
half a crown if you succeed; cheaper than breaking one's back, eh?”
“Where are you off to, supposing you should ever get those boots on?”
asked I.
“Eh? I am going to call on the young woman I set alight at the hop last
night, and tell her I'm quite down in the mouth about it; explain that
I didn't go to do it; that it was quite a mistake, and all owing to the
other young woman's being so fresh, in fact; and then offer to rig her
out again, start her in new harness from bridle ~146~~crupper, all at my
own expense, and that will be finishing off the affair handsomely, won't
it?”
“I should advise your leaving out that last piece of munificence,”
replied I; “she might think it an insult.” “An insult, eh? Oh, if she's
so proud as all that comes to I'd better stay away altogether; I shall
be safe to put my foot into it there, a good deal faster than I have
into these villainous boots--that's it, Sampson, another pull such as
that and the deed's done,” added Lawless, patting the human Boots on the
back encouragingly.
“I was just going to ride over to inquire after Miss Saville myself,”
said I.
“That's the very thing, then,” was the reply. “I'll drive you there
instead; it will be better for your scorched fin (pointing to my injured
arm) than jolting about outside a horse, and you shall tell me what to
say as we go along; you seem to understand the sex, as they call the
petticoats, better than I do, and can put a fellow up to a few of the
right dodges. I only wish they were all horses, and then I flatter
myself I should not require any man's advice how to harness, drive,
train, or physic them.”
“The ladies are infinitely indebted to you,” replied I, as I ran
upstairs to prepare for our expedition.
A drive of rather less than an hour and a half, during which the
thorough-breds performed in a way to delight every lover of horseflesh,
brought us to the park gate of Barstone Priory, where Mr. Vernor
resided. After winding in and out for some half-mile amongst groups
of magnificent forest-trees, their trunks partially concealed by
plantations of rare and beautiful shrubs, a sudden turn of the road
brought us in front of the Priory--an ancient, venerable-looking pile
of building, which had evidently, as its name implied, once belonged to
some religious community. The alterations it had undergone, in order to
adapt it to its present purpose, had been carried out with more taste
and skill than are usually met with in such cases. The garden, with its
straight terrace-walks and brilliant flower-beds, contrasted well
with the grey stone of which the building was composed, while the
smooth-shaven lawn, with an old, quaintly carved sundial in the centre,
and, above all, the absence of any living creature whatsoever, imparted
an air of severe formality to the scene, which, as the eye rested
upon it, seemed to realise all one had read of monastic discipline and
seclusion; and one half expected to see a train of dark-veiled nuns or
sandalled friars winding slowly forth from the hall-door.
~147~~“What a singular old shop!” exclaimed my companion, regarding the
structure with a look of displeased criticism; “wretched little windows
as ever I saw; they must be all in the dark inside on a dull day, and
every day would be dull if one lived there, I should think. It would
puzzle a fellow to tell whether that building was clerical or lay, fish
or flesh; a castle that had taken a serious turn, or a church out for
the day in plain clothes; how people can like to live in such a mouldy,
rusty, musty old barn, that looks as full of ghosts as a cheese is of
mites, I can't conceive.”
“There certainly is an appearance of gloom and loneliness about the
place,” replied I; “but I think it is chiefly owing to the absence of
any living object--a herd of deer in the park, a group of children and
dogs playing on the lawn--anything to give animation to the picture,
would be the greatest improvement.”
“I should just think it would,” returned Lawless. “Fancy a pack of
hounds under that jolly old oak yonder, the huntsman and whips in their
bits of pink, and a field of about fifty of the right sort of fellows
on thorough-breds, dawdling about, talking to one another, or taking
a canter over the turf, just to settle themselves in the saddle; that
would be a sight to make old Vernor look a little better pleased than he
did last night, sing out for his boots and buckskins, and clap his leg
over the first four-footed beast that came in his way, even if it should
happen to be the old cow.”
“I hope I may be there to see if he does,” replied I laughing.
On inquiring whether Mr. Vernor was at home we were answered in the
affirmative by a tall, gaunt-looking man-servant, with a stern, not
to say surly, countenance, the expression of which was in some degree
contradicted by a pair of quick, restless little grey eyes, which in
any other face one should have said twinkled merrily beneath the large
grizzled eyebrows which o'ershadowed them.
Having, at Lawless's request, procured a nondescript hobbledehoy of
indefinite character to stand at the horses' heads (we had left
Shrimp behind, by common consent, that he might be no restraint on
our conversation), he conducted us across the hall into a kind of
morning-room, fitted up with oak panels, and with a very handsome
old carved oak chimney-piece reaching half-way to the ceiling. He
was leaving the room to inform his master of our arrival when Lawless
stopped him by saying:--
“Here, just wait a bit; tell the young woman--that is ~148~~to say,
don't tell her anything; but I mean, let Miss Saville be made aware (I
see you're awake, for all your long face), put her up to our being here;
don't you know, eh?” “Tip him,” whispered I.
“Eh, stop a bit; you're a very honest fellow, and it's right to reward
faithful servants; and--you understand all about it, eh?”
One portion of this somewhat incoherent address he did understand,
evidently, for without altering a muscle of his face, he put out his
hand, took the money, and left the room with the same unconscious air
of imperturbability which he had maintained throughout the whole
conference. “Good move that, eh?” exclaimed Lawless, as soon as the door
was closed; “that'll fetch her out of her hole, for a guinea. Mind, I
shall do my best to cut you out, Master Frank. I don't see why I haven't
a right to quite as large a share of her gratitude as you have, for if
I hadn't set her on fire you'd never have put her out; so, in fact, she
owes it all to me--don't you see?”
“I'm afraid there's a little sophistry in that argument,” replied
I; “but we had better wait till we find whether we shall have the
opportunity afforded us of trying our powers of fascination before we
quarrel about the effects to be produced by them. I cannot say I feel
over sanguine as to the success of your somewhat original negotiation
with that raw-boned giant in the blue plush _sine qua nons_, as Coleman
calls them.”
“Time will show,” rejoined Lawless, turning towards the door, which
opened at this moment to admit Mr. Vernor; and, alas! him only.
His reception of us, though perfectly easy and well-bred, was anything
but agreeable or encouraging. He answered our inquiries after Miss
Saville's health by informing us, cursorily, that no ill effects had
ensued from her alarm of the previous evening. He received Lawless's
apologies with a calm, half-ironical smile, and an assurance that they
were not required; and he slightly thanked me for my obliging assistance
in words perfectly unexceptionable in themselves, but which, from a
peculiarity in the tone of voice more than anything else, impressed one
with a sense of insult rather than of compliment. Still, in compliance
with certain expressive looks from Lawless, who evidently was most
unwilling to be convinced of the failure of his little bit of diplomacy,
I used every means I could think of to prolong the visit. I first
admired, then criticised, the carving of the chimney-piece; I dived
into a ~149~~book of prints which lay upon the table, and prosed about
mezzo-tint and line engraving, and bored myself, and of course my
hearers also, till our powers of endurance were taxed almost beyond
their strength; and, at last, having completely exhausted not only my
small-talk, but my entire stock of conversation of all sorts and sizes,
I was regularly beaten to a stand-still, and obliged to take refuge
in alternately teasing and caressing a beautiful black and tan setter,
which seemed the only member of the party thoroughly sociable and at his
ease.
At length it became apparent even to Lawless himself that the visit
could not be protracted longer, and we accordingly rose and took our
leave, our host (I will not call him entertainer, for it would be a
complete misnomer) preserving the same tone of cool and imperturbable
politeness to the very last. On reaching the hall we encountered the
surly old footman, whose features looked more than ever as if they had
been carved out of some very hard species of wood.
“I say, old boy, where's the young lady, eh?” exclaimed Lawless, as soon
as he caught sight of him; “she never showed so much as the tip of her
nose in the room; how was that, eh?”
“If she com'd into the room when gentlemen was calling, master would eat
her without salt,” was the reply.
“Which fact you were perfectly aware of when you took my tip so quietly
just now?”
“In course I was, why should I not be?”
“Done brown for once, by Jove!” muttered Lawless as he left the hall;
“a raw-boned old rogue, I'll be even with him some day, though----, we
shall see, eh?”
While Lawless was busily engaged in settling some of the harness which
had become disarranged the old footman came up to me and whispered,
“Make use of your eyes as you drive through the park, and mayhap you'll
spy some _game worth looking after_, young gentleman”.
Surprised at this unexpected address, I turned to question him as to
its meaning, but in vain; for no sooner had he finished speaking than he
re-entered the hall and shut the door behind him.
What could he intend me to understand, thought I; he evidently wished
to imply something beyond the simple meaning of the words “game
worth looking after”; could he mean to----no! the thing is
impossible--“absurd!” exclaimed I, as a wild idea shot through my brain
and I felt myself colour like a girl.
~150~~“What's absurd?” exclaimed Lawless, gathering up the reins as
he spoke; “what are you talking about? why, you're ranting and staring
about you like a play-actor; what's the matter with you, eh, Frank?”
“Nothing,” replied I, taking my seat; “don't drive too fast through the
park, I want to look at the view as we go along.”
In obedience to the gaunt domestic's mysterious injunction I made the
best use of my eyes as we retraced our way through the park, and for my
pains had the satisfaction of beholding a solitary rabbit, half-hidden
under a dock-leaf, and sundry carrion crows.