John Deane's stay at Saint Faith's was to be very short, and then he and
Brinsmead were to take their way back to Nottingham.
Will Brinsmead seemed somewhat out of temper as Jack rode alongside him
on their journey to the former place. He seemed unreasonably jealous of
the attention which Jack had received from Mr Gournay. He had also, it
appeared, not got over some suspicion of Jack, in consequence of his
apparent intimacy with the stranger who called himself Master Pearson.
"He may be Master Pearson, or he may not be Master Pearson," observed
Will, sententiously: "and he may be an honest man, or he may not be an
honest man. There are many rogues going about the world, and he may be
one, or he may not be one; but I do not like a man who turns up here and
turns up there, and dodges one's footsteps, and does not give a
reasonable and proper account of himself. Now, it appears to me, Master
Deane, that you have talked to this Master Pearson, supposing he is
Master Pearson, a great deal too much. If you had held your tongue, he
would have gained no information out of you. When you are among
strangers, it's my opinion, that, if you are wise, you will say nothing.
If you hold your tongue, those you are with will think you wise; but if
you talk, ten chances to one they will think you a fool!"
"Thank you, Master Brinsmead, for the compliment," said Jack. "I told
you before that I did not think I had said any thing to this man Pearson
in any way detrimental to our interests, or to those of our employer,
Mr Strelley. If I did, I am heartily sorry for it: but even if I did,
it must be proved that he is a rogue before you should say that any harm
could have happened from what I talked about."
Brinsmead, however, was not to be brought back into good-humour; and
Jack was very glad when the tall, square tower of Saint Faith's church
rose up in sight above the dead flat of marshy country over which they
were travelling, which, however, was relieved by occasional groups of
tall beech and birch-trees, and lines of weeping ash, amid which in
spring and summer were happy birds singing all day, and some too even
during the night.
Saint Faith's, although but a small village, was just now crowded with
visitors, albeit rather of a rough description, being chiefly highland
drovers in plaid and kilt, or trowes, with daggers stuck in their belts,
carrying, however, long goads or staves in the place of broadsword and
targets. There were purchasers also of the cattle they came to dispose
of from all parts of the country, mostly as rough in their way as the
Scotchmen they came to meet. The accommodation which the inn afforded
was suitable to such characters as the visitors who frequented it.
Fortunately for Jack, their stay was to be short, as Brinsmead had
merely to make arrangements with certain drovers he expected to meet to
purchase cattle, which, instead of coming so far south, were to be
driven to Nottingham. Jack heard Brinsmead making inquiries about the
person he expected to meet, and seemed rather disappointed at not
finding him at the hostelry where he had arranged to come. On a second
visit, however, to the Black Bull, the landlord informed Brinsmead that
a Highlander had been inquiring for him, and was even now in the public
room awaiting his coming.
"There he is, Master Brinsmead!" said the landlord, pointing to a
strongly-built man in Highland dress, who was seated at a table, with a
huge tankard of ale before him. By his side, in rather incongruous
company, it appeared to Jack, was the reverend minister he had met at
Cambridge. The Scotchman rose as Brinsmead, conducted by the landlord,
approached him.
"If you are Master Brinsmead, as I have ne'er doobt is the case," he
said, "I have to tell you of a sad accident which occurred to our
respected friend, Jock McKillock, whom you expected to meet here: and,
seeing that he could not come himself, he deputed me to transact the
proposed business with you."
On saying this the speaker presented a letter to Brinsmead, which the
latter handed to Jack to read, observing, "You're a better scholar than
I am, Mr Deane, and I'll beg you just to see what friend McKillock has
to say."
Jack took the epistle, which was somewhat dirty, the superscription
being in a large though not over-legible hand. He saw, however, that it
was addressed to Master Brinsmead, drover, at Saint Faith's. On opening
it, Jack saw that it purported to be signed by Jock McKillock,
introducing his trusted friend Mr Allan Sanderson, who would make all
the arrangements for the sale of the cattle they had spoken of at their
meeting on the previous year. The price had risen somewhat, he
observed, in consequence of the demand for salt-beef for the fleet, and
the licence-fees, which, against all right and justice, they were
compelled to pay to King William, who, worthy as he had been in other
respects, had committed the same grievous sin of which the King of
Israel had been guilty when he neglected to hue Agag in pieces, in not
taking away the life of the Popish monarch when he was delivered into
his hands, as also in favouring the prelatic priests of the Church of
England.
These remarks had a considerable effect with Brinsmead, who agreed with
the principles of his correspondent, though he did not object to his
master paying the licence-fees, considering they did not come out of his
own pocket.
Jack on delivering the letter to Brinsmead, examined more narrowly the
countenance of the person who had brought it, and felt immediately
convinced that it was no other than Master Pearson. He could not help
giving a glance which showed that he recognised him; but the other
returned his look with so calm and unmoved an expression of countenance,
that he was almost staggered for a moment in his belief. Still, when he
recollected that Pearson might have some cause why he should not wish to
let Brinsmead know of their previous intercourse, he determined--wisely
or not, it may be a matter of opinion--not to address him as an
acquaintance. The minister in the same way stared at him as if they had
never met before. Jack was exceedingly puzzled, not being able to
understand for what reason he did not wish to be recognised. He had
time, however, to think over the matter while Brinsmead and the Highland
drover were making their arrangements, in accordance with the
suggestions contained in the letter. The minister also pulled a volume
out of his pocket, and appeared to be completely absorbed in it.
"But who is this young man with you, Master Brinsmead?" asked Sanderson,
turning an inquisitive eye, as it seemed, towards Jack. "Though you are
unable to travel so far north to inspect the beasts, if he understands
cattle, and is intelligent and trustworthy, would it not be well to let
him come in your place? My respected friend, Jock McKillock, would
rather you looked at the cattle before they are driven south."
"The lad is trustworthy enough," answered Brinsmead, in a low voice, so
that Jack should not be supposed to hear it. "He understands, too, the
points of a beast better than most lads of his age. Though his
shoulders are young, he has got an old head on the top of them; but it's
a long way to send him all alone, and he has yet to learn something more
of the world than he knows at present. An old bird like me is not to be
caught by chaff. He must be a sharp blade to deceive me, you may
suppose, Master Sanderson, whereas he might easily be led in the toils
of the many sharpers and impostors going about in all directions. It
would be wiser not to trust him alone."
"Do not fear that, Master Brinsmead," answered Sanderson, "I am
returning north, and will look after the lad, and guard him from all
dangers such as you hint at. I cannot side with him when he is making
his bargain, and help to beat down Jock McKillock, but I will give him
all the advice in the general way I can, and Jock's an honest chield,
and would not take advantage of him when he puts his trust in his
honour."
Jack all this time could not help overhearing the conversation, and
became more puzzled than ever how to act. A journey to the north for
the purpose of purchasing cattle was exactly after his own taste, but he
could not understand the deception which was being practised upon his
companion. If Pearson was honest, why did he now assume a different
name from that by which he had before been known? Which, also, was his
right name? The minister too, who was his companion, had heard him
called Pearson, and he now announced himself as Allan Sanderson in his
presence, and yet the reverend gentleman made no remark on the subject.
Sanderson continued to urge his point with Brinsmead, and used many
arguments to induce him to allow Jack Deane to proceed north. At last,
not a little to Jack's satisfaction, Brinsmead yielded his consent,
provided Jack would wish to accept the offer.
"What say you, Mr Deane, will you take a trip into the land o' cakes,
and make a purchase of three hundred head of cattle for Mr Strelley?
You will have the driving of the beasts south, and have the pleasure of
seeing good honest meat and fat put on their bones in our rich
water-meadows before many months have passed away after their arrival."
Jack had had time to consider the matter, and without hesitation
accepted the offer, believing that in a short conversation with Pearson
he could soon clear up the mystery.
"I should be on my guard," he thought to himself, "more than would
Brinsmead, who does not suspect him, and thus I think I shall better be
able to look after the interests of my master Mr Strelley."
When a person desires to do a thing, it is very easy to find excuses,
and as easy to lull the conscience asleep, and hide the consequences
which may be the result.
It was finally arranged that Jack should start the next morning in
company with the respectable Mr Allan Sanderson, Brinsmead purposing to
follow at a slower pace in the course of the day.
Jack was aroused next morning by the sound of his quondam acquaintance
calling him to "boot and saddle," and to be off. Slipping on his
clothes, he went to the bedside of Will Brinsmead, who was still
sleeping soundly, to tell him that he was summoned to be off.
"Ah, lad, the Scotchmen keep early hours," said Will, sitting up and
rubbing his eyes. "The dawn has scarcely broke, surely. He is right,
though, thou hast a long ride before thee, and it's as well to be off by
times, though it would have been prudent to lay in a store of provender
before you depart; however, two or three hours' ride before breakfast
will do thee no harm, lad. And now, Master Deane, I have a word to say
before you leave me. Thou hast a fair opening, lad, and an important
commission to execute. Take this advice from an old man. Keep your own
counsel on all occasions. Judge which is best for your master's
interests, and let nothing turn you aside from following that out.
Avoid quarrelling with any one, and let no one pick a quarrel with thee.
Mr Sanderson seems a fair-spoken man, but there's one thing I would
have you remember, that he is not Jock McKillock himself. Jock I have
known well-nigh a score of years, and an honest and fair dealer, as I
doubt not thou wilt find, if he is afoot and well again when you get to
the north. And now, fare-thee-well, John Deane, an old man's blessing
go with thee! Thou hast shown thyself to be ready-witted and brave, and
if thou rememberest always that it is better to please God than man,
thou wilt not fail to succeed in thy undertakings."
With these words the old man put on his clothes, and accompanying Jack
down-stairs, assisted him in getting his horse ready for his journey.
"Weel, weel, laddy, you're o'er long in mounting your nag!" shouted
Master Sanderson.
"I am ready for you now, at all events," answered Jack, as he threw
himself into his saddle, and once more shook hands with Brinsmead.
"Stop, stop, Mr Sanderson, you be off without your stirrup-cup!"
exclaimed the landlord, who at that moment appeared at the door with a
tankard in his hand. "Such doings are never allowed at my house,
however early in the morning my guests depart. It will do thee good,
man, and help to keep the cold mists of our fen-country out of thy
throat this morning; and thou, lad, must not break through our rules,
either," he said, turning to Jack, who, it must be confessed, took the
proffered tankard and drained its contents, then touching the flank of
his horse with his spur, and giving a farewell wave of the hand to
honest old Brinsmead, rode after his new acquaintance nothing loath.