Jack, when he placed his head on his pillow the last night before
leaving home, fully expected to awake of his own accord the following
morning; but for several hours sleep did not visit his eyelids; and when
at length he opened them, he saw his eldest sister Kate leaning over
him. She had been watching for some time his youthful face, which even
in sleep bore so determined an expression, while the brown, strong hand
outside the counterpane looked well fitted for any work he might
undertake.
"Jack," she said, "you did not answer, dear brother, when I knocked at
the door, and I was afraid you would over-sleep yourself: besides, I
want to have a few words with you which I had no opportunity of speaking
last night. Brother, you are going into a world where, although there
is some good, I am afraid there is a great deal of evil, and treachery,
and deceit. Though you have done wild and thoughtless things, still you
know what is right, and I am sure you wish to follow it. But, dear
Jack, I know you better than perhaps you know yourself. Do not trust to
your own good intentions. You may think now that nothing will tempt you
to do what is wrong, but remember that Satan is always going about to
lead us away from the right course; therefore, Jack, I want you to look
to your Bible to learn how you ought to walk, and then to pray to God
that He will, by His Holy Spirit, enable you to walk aright. Here is a
Bible, Jack, and I hope you will take it with you; but I must not preach
more. I see you have a letter from Mr Strelley to Mr Gournay at
Norwich. You know that our friend Giles Dainsforth is staying with him,
and I must tell you, Jack, what I have never told you before, that I
have promised to become his wife, if our father and mother will give
their consent. He has not as yet much worldly wealth, but he is steady
and industrious, and that will come in good time; only I want you to
speak to him, and hear what he has got to say to you. It will not be
time lost to you: of that I am sure. You will tell him all about us,
and should he not be at home, you will make a point of trying to find
him, will you not, Jack?"
As she spoke, she imprinted a kiss on her brother's brow.
"And now I will go down-stairs and get your breakfast ready. May God
ever be with you, my dear brother!"
While Jack was dressing, he received a visit from his brother Jasper,
who had some kind words and good advice also to give him. Although the
brothers were on the best of terms, they associated very little with
each other, their habits and amusements being very different. Still,
Jack admired and respected Jasper for his talents, his amiable
disposition, and his refined manners, though he felt little disposed to
imitate the latter. Jasper had been away at the time Jack paid his
farewell visit to Harwood Grange, and whether he admired Alethea or not,
he at all events showed no jealousy of his brother, or annoyance at his
having been there without him.
Polly's farewell was even more hearty than that of her brother and
sister. Her parting salute was a slap on the back, in return for some
words which he whispered in her ear, and a glance of pride, perhaps, as
she saw the good figure he cut, equipped in his horseman's suit and
thoroughly prepared for the road.
His parents gave him their blessing, but the manner of his father
especially was somewhat cold, and showed him that the old gentleman had
not altogether got over his dislike to the calling he had resolved to
follow.
In a few minutes more, mounted on a stout cob, with a serviceable pair
of pistols in his holsters, he was jogging along the road to Cambridge
by the side of Master Brinsmead, accompanied by an ample number of
drovers in charge of one of the largest droves of cattle which had for
some time past left the Trent valley. It may easily be imagined that
such a journey, begun in summer time, continued at short stages, with
frequent delays at towns, and lonely inns, and farm-houses, was full of
interest to Jack, who had only made one short trip of the sort before.
The long droves of cattle went slowly along the roads, which in most
places were little better than causeways roughly raised from the mud
that lay on either side in bad weather. Even the best highways were
allowed to fall into a miserable condition, so that carriages could with
difficulty traverse them, except in the immediate neighbourhood of
London and some of the larger cities. The hedge-rows every where
afforded ample shade, and the wide green margins of the lanes gave space
for the herd to lie down during the heat of the day. At such times Jack
would pursue his beloved sport of angling--for he was never willing to
be idle--and many a delicious repast of trout, and chub, and barbel did
he broil over the drovers' gipsy fire. On such occasions Will Brinsmead
seldom failed to bring forth his well-worn Bible, or his beloved
Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," from which, lying down with his elbow on
the grass, he would read half aloud to himself, raising his voice if he
saw any one approaching near enough to listen. Jack was frequently
among Brinsmead's auditors.
These quiet rests were generally succeeded by the bustle which was to be
found in the various towns and markets through which they passed; but
though for the moment the impressions received appear to have worn off,
in after-years Jack remembered his old friend's quaint remarks with no
small amount of satisfaction and profit.
Brinsmead's droves were often joined by others belonging to different
masters. They usually travelled as far as possible in the earliest
morning hours, to secure the freedom of the roads. On all occasions the
drovers were armed with various weapons to defend their charge from the
cattle-stealers who were too often apt to hang upon their skirts, ready
to carry off any stray beast they could find, though the gibbet was the
penalty if they were captured. Trains of pack-horses also would bear
them company as they approached Cambridge, carrying all kinds of stores
and goods for Stourbridge Fair.
Jack, following the advice of his friend, resolved to obtain as much
information as he could, and therefore often fell out from his own
party, and jogged along by the side of the merchant or pedlar who seemed
most ready for his society. Jack had also occasionally to ride on
before the drovers, to make arrangements for the feeding and rest of the
cattle with some farmer or grazier a little off the high-road. In most
instances the worthy farmer was so well pleased with his honest
countenance and pleasant manners, that he invited him with Master
Brinsmead, who was well-known all along the road, to partake of his
family supper. If good old Will found a fitting opportunity, he would
on such occasions suggest reading a chapter in the Bible, which he
expounded in his own peculiar phraseology, in a clear and edifying
manner, never failing to offer up a fervent prayer that a blessing might
rest on the house of his entertainers, that his honoured master might
prosper, and that he and his companions might be preserved from the
dangers of the road, and obtain a satisfactory price for their cattle.
Seldom indeed did his hosts refuse his offer, or fail to be sensible
that besides his fair payment for keep of man and beast, he had left a
blessing behind him.
At many of these midland farms great bargaining took place, for Mr
Strelley's droves supplied them with store cattle, as agriculture was
beginning to be better understood than it had ever before been in
England. Whole carcases were still salted down for winter consumption
at the great country-houses. At these also Brinsmead and John Deane
were welcome visitors, and chaffering in the steward's room, or with his
honour the squire, or even with my lord or my lady herself, would
frequently take up many hours of the day. They had also to buy as well
as to sell, for the larger the supply they could take to Stourbridge
Fair, the better would it be for their speculation.
One day Jack had been riding by the side of a travelling merchant, the
owner of a train of pack-horses, when, as he was dropping behind to join
his own party, he felt a hand pressed on his shoulder, and heard a voice
which he thought he recognised exclaiming, "What cheer, lad? Glad to
see that thou hast kept to thy intention, and taken up the honest
calling of a drover. Better than cutting weasands any day for the sake
of keeping a Dutch usurper on the throne," he added in a lower tone.
Jack looked at the speaker once or twice, unable to recognise him. At
length it occurred to him that he was the very man who had joined him on
their poaching expedition.
"I think I know you," he said, looking at him again.
"You ought to do so, for we have met before; and it was not my fault
that we did not meet again," answered the stranger.
"What! Master Pearson?" said Jack, examining his countenance more
narrowly, and looking down on the somewhat clumsy, ill-groomed horse
which the speaker bestrode.
The animal was, however, he saw at a second glance, not destitute of
bone and muscle; while the rider's expression of countenance and general
appearance made it difficult to believe that he was of the pacific
character his words would imply. A pair of substantial saddle-bags hung
across the saddle, and Jack observed that the butts of two pistols
projected from the holsters on either side.
"Why, Master Pearson, you have made good despatch with your business in
the north," said Jack; "for I think I am not wrong in calling you by
that name. I hope that it has been successful."
"As things generally go with me," answered Pearson carelessly. "I am
now on my way south again to Cambridge and other places; for I also have
some interest in the wool trade, and hope to be at Stourbridge Fair:
that beats every other mart in the world, in my opinion."
"I have heard that it was far above our Goose Fair," said Jack, "though
we are not ashamed of that either."
"That is a right curious name you give your fair, Master Deane,"
observed Pearson. "There must be a great sight of geese sold there, I'm
thinking."
"Not exactly," answered Jack. "I do not know that more geese are sold
then than at any other time."
"Then come, tell me why it is called Goose Fair: there must be a reason
for it," said Pearson. "If you know it, out with the truth, lad."
"The reason why our Nottingham Fair is called Goose Fair? Well, if you
needs must know the story, I'll out with it," said Jack, thus pressed by
his companion. "Of course, having been born and bred in Nottingham, I
believe all about it. You must know that some time, since bold Robin
Hood ranged through Sherwood Forest, at all events between his days and
ours, there dwelt within it, some ten miles away, a worthy knight and
his dame. The better half of the knight was a shrew, and led him a
wretched life. He had a son, on whom he bestowed all the affection
which his wife might have shared. At length death relieved him of his
tormentor. The dame died and was buried. He had a wonderfully heavy
stone put on the top of her grave, lest she should come to life again;
and then he gave all his thoughts to the education of his son. He
resolved, moreover, that he should not make the mistake of which he had
been guilty by marrying too early. He therefore kept the boy closely
confined within the precincts of his own domain, within which not a
female of any age, old or young, was allowed to enter. They were all
alike, he declared. The oldest might inveigle his boy as well as the
youngest. At length the lad having approached the age of twenty-one,
and being perfectly contented with his lot, his father thought that he
might with safety take him to Nottingham Fair where he had business.
Scarcely had they dismounted from their steeds than a damsel with black
eyes and rosy cheeks came tripping by. The lad regarded her with eyes
of astonishment and admiration.
"`Oh, father, father, what is that curious animal?' he asked, seeming
about to run after her.
"`Why, my boy, that is but a goose--a silly, weak, worthless goose,'
answered the knight, greatly alarmed at the effect the sight of the
damsel had had on his son. Nevertheless they entered the fair, where
not one but hundreds of damsels presented themselves to the astonished
gaze of the young man.
"`Ah, this must be Goose Fair!' he kept saying to himself; but being
well brought up, he kept steadily by his father's side. This so well
pleased the knight, that he promised to give him any fairing he might
ask for.
"`Oh, thank you, dear father!' he exclaimed instantly. `Oh, buy me a
goose--by all means buy me a goose!'
"From that day to this our fair has been called Goose Fair; and really,
Master Pearson, I think you'll allow that there are some very pretty
geese to be seen there."
Master Pearson laughed at Jack's account, and at his notion of its
importance.
"Well, there are some fairs abroad which I have visited almost on as
grand a scale. There is Leipsic in Saxony, Neuremberg, and Augsburg,
all great in their way, but not to be compared to Stourbridge as to the
value and amount of property sold."
"What! have you ever been to those places?" asked Jack with surprise,
glancing at the rough-looking drover, "or do you only speak from having
heard of them?"
"Oh, I have attended the fairs held there myself!" answered Master
Pearson. "I have been to many others too, such as that of
Frankfort-on-the-Maine; and I tell you, my lad, the great corn-field
near Casterton shows a more wonderful sight than any of them. You are
lucky in having to make your first business trip there, instead of
northward."
"I do not care greatly which way I ride," answered Jack cheerily; "all
the world is new to me, and I want to see as much of it as I can."
"You will see a specimen of a good deal of what I call the world in a
few days," said Master Pearson. "We have had such splendid weather,
that the corn has been got off the fields, otherwise it would be a bad
look out for the farmers. The fair-keepers have a right, you must know,
to trample it under foot, and to lay out their streets, and set up their
booths on the ground, whether it is standing or not. However, you'll
know all about the fair when you have been there. You'll have extensive
dealings in one way or another for your employer, I doubt not."
"Yes, probably," observed Jack. "We shall have a good sum to lay out, I
know; for we have done very well with beasts. They say that the drovers
from the north have had great losses from the attacks of Ben Nevis and
his gang, who have been bolder than ever this year. It is a pity a
fellow of that sort cannot be caught and hung. I have no fancy for
allowing rogues to disturb honest men in their proper trade. For my
part, I should like to organise a bold band of fellows and hunt down the
robber. I have learned one thing--that black is black, and white is
white; and though, maybe, he is a bold fellow, that is no reason he is
not a rogue, and richly deserves hanging."
Master Pearson laughed as Jack spoke.
"You must catch your hare before you cook him; remember that, lad," he
observed.
"There is the difficulty," answered Jack. "They say that no one has
caught sight of him except at a great distance; and I am told his horse
flies like a meteor, and is as light as the wind. He can follow his
master up-stairs as easily as a cat, and up a tree for that matter, I
verily believe, and will leap down precipices high enough to break the
bones of any ordinary man or horse. Thus there is scarcely a chance of
coming up with him, although the country has been scoured again and
again, and even some of his rogues have been caught and hung."
"A valuable animal that you speak of," observed Master Pearson coolly.
"I dare say his master is as proud of him as I am of my poor beast, who,
though he has no great speed, is a trusty friend on the road, and has
carried me many a long mile. `Slow and sure' is his motto."
"I do not fancy that you always ride at a slow pace though, Master
Pearson," observed Jack, laughing carelessly. "Your legs cling too
tightly to your horse's sides, and you have too easy a seat in your
saddle to care much for a slow beast, sure as he may be."
"I was bred in Yorkshire, Master Jack Deane," answered Pearson with a
peculiar glance at Jack. "Every boy there knows how to bestride a horse
as soon as he can run; though, to be sure, I won't deny that I have
taken a gallop now and then in my day. And now I think we understand
each other. You remember our meeting down by the river-side: I took a
fancy to you on that night, and I told you I had something to talk to
you about. Are you willing to hear it now? But I have no fancy that
any passer should hear the chance words we may let drop: so speak low
when you reply my ears are sharp enough; and you will give me your word
of honour that you will not repeat what you hear of me, unless I give
you leave."
Jack, whose curiosity had been aroused by what Master Pearson had said,
gave the required promise, and without further circumlocution his
companion proposed to him a scheme which Jack would have been the wiser
had he at the first refused to listen to.
Master Pearson showed himself to be an able diplomatist, and Mr Harwood
would have been thoroughly satisfied had he heard the way in which his
wishes were carried out.
"Think of what I have been saying, my lad," he continued. "You have got
the right qualities in you, depend upon that, and it's your own fault if
you don't rise in the world in the way I have pointed out. And now,
farewell; we shall meet again before long, I doubt not; but I have some
business to settle a short distance off the road, and I must get free of
this crowd."
Saying this, Pearson shook Jack by the hand, and trotted past him at a
quick rate. A wide ditch and hedge divided the road from a large field,
along which the way was free and open. A few drovers only were in
sight, urging on their cattle. Jack, who had kept his eye on his late
companion, was somewhat surprised to see his seemingly sorry jade take a
spring which cleared both hedge and ditch, and then to observe him
cantering along the field at a rate which would have distanced many
horses at a gallop.
"He is a strange person," thought Jack, "but he seems good-natured and
well-intentioned. I cannot make him out, but as to doing what he
advises, I must take time to consider about that."