I am not sure that the phlegmatic temperament, as it is called, is not
the happiest for the possessor thereof. People are apt to exclaim--
"Give us great pleasures, even if they be accompanied by great pains."
Hopeful mankind! ye seldom estimate prospective pains at their real
worth; and ye always over-estimate the pleasures--till they are gone.
Two great races of philosophers, if not more, the Stoic and the
Chinese Mandarins, judging more sanely--I am not quite sure that the
Epicureans might not be included also, ay, and many more sects--have
always sought for the less intense. Whether a respectable fat Bonze,
having his toes tickled by his fourteenth or fifteenth wife, without
the slightest expectation of anything like high sentimental pleasure,
but without the slightest fear of anything like strong mental pain, is
or is not in a more desirable condition than Galileo in his dungeon, I
will not take upon myself to say; yet one thing is certain--that this
world being full of miseries, and when we open the door for one high
enjoyment thousands of pains rushing in, there is some policy in
having but few entrances to the house, and opening them as seldom as
possible.
A phlegmatic temperament has assuredly the advantage of leaving few
assailable points at the mercy of an enemy, and the Dutch are
generally supposed to be as phlegmatic as any other nation; but such
certainly was not the case with Van Noost. Whether, by transplanting,
he had acquired more the character of a sensitive plant than of a
cabbage, or whether the Norman or Saxon blood, derived from his
mother, overbalanced the Frieslandish part of his composition given by
his father, I cannot tell; but certain it is, that he was of a very
moveable and excitable disposition, notwithstanding the national
breadth of his nether man, and the firkin-like rotundity of his whole
frame. His soul was a busy fiery little soul as ever was put into a
heavy body, and most intensely did he fret and fidget during Smeaton's
long absence, although he had a candle to light him, and the coveted
key to work upon. Three times he walked along the passage; thrice he
measured the size of the key-hole; four times he took an impression of
the key; and when, at length, he heard a step coming down from the
rooms above, he was all in, what is expressively called, a twitter,
lest the person approaching should be any but the person he desired.
Whether he had calculated upon a comfortable sojourn at Ale
Manor-House during the night, or whether his imagination suggested
dangers which did not exist on the road before him, or whether his
long evening ride, added to his morning ride, had somewhat bruised and
fatigued the part that pressed upon the saddle, sure it is that he
received the intimation that he must ride twelve miles farther, to
Keanton, with a somewhat rueful air, and sprang across the little well
with less than his promised activity.
Smeaton went first to show him the way, and to help him out if he fell
in; and his so doing gave some confidence to the poor statuary; but he
still besought his noble companion, even after they had both safely
reached the little path, to remain with him till his young guide came.
When this was acceded to, he became much more composed, and hardly
listened to the directions, repeated more than once, which Smeaton
gave him regarding what he was to do at Keanton, so much was he
occupied with the contemplation of the little well and the scene
around. The moon had now risen higher, so high, indeed, as only just
to catch the edge of the waters with a line of silver light; but she
displayed beautifully in her pale beams the small Gothic arch of
stone-work, let, as it were, into the face of the rock. The deep tank
or well at the foot of this acclivity received the bright and healing
fountain, from some spot ten or twelve feet below the surface. The
light through the half-opened door showed the interior of this little
cell with its watery flooring and part of the passage beyond; and the
eye could perceive upon the stone door itself how skilfully the
workmen had marked out the freestone into divisions, so as to render
it like a piece of solid masonry. The effect had been rendered perfect
by the exhalations from the fountain, which had tinted it with many
hues of green, and red, and yellow.
"I don't see how one could open it from without," said Van Noost,
after gazing for a moment. "The well is so deucedly in the way, though
I see the place were the key-hole must be well enough."
"I would advise you not to try, Van Noost," said Smeaton, with a
smile. "Your legs are not long enough to stretch across. I think mine
would do very well."
"Ay, noble lord, I did not cast myself," replied the statuary. "Gad's
life! if we could do that, we might see strange changes, according to
men's taste. Some of your stumpy balustrade fellows would turn out
Apollos; and many a long-legged Antincus would become a clumsy Vulcan.
I am as lengthy in mind as you in limb, my Lord, and could leap over
mountains, if--if--"
"If the body were not heavier than the soul," said the young Earl,
kindly; for he saw that the good man spoke somewhat warmly. "It is not
your fault if Nature made you spread forth broad instead of running up
tall. Some stones are made into a cupola, others into a column; but
they have no choice in the matter, and each had better be satisfied
with his condition. You have one advantage of me, however. You can
make the figures of other men in a better mould than fortune gave to
yourself, and I cannot."
"It would be difficult in your case, my lord," replied Van Noost, well
pleased. "I only long for quiet times to take a statue of your
lordship as a dancing faun."
"Spare me that! Spare me that!" cried Smeaton, laughing. "The faun had
not a good reputation in times of old, nor the dancers in the present
day; and, good sooth! I would rather not appear in public in either
character. But methinks this boy, who is to be your guide, is long in
coming, and I am somewhat anxious to get back into the house again."
"Ay, I can fancy that," replied Van Noost, "if that pretty lady who
was with you this morning be within. Do you know, my noble Lord, you
must set a guard upon your eyes, if you would not have all the
villagers commenting upon your soft sentiments? Why here was the old
sexton, Mattocks, saying what a handsome couple you would make, and
only thinking of burying you both all the time, though he talked of
nothing worse than marriage."
"It would be a pity to stop them," answered Smeaton. "I should imagine
they have little to think of, and a marriage or a funeral must be a
God-send to the gossips of the place. But now, my good Van Noost,
remember, when you are at Keanton you must be very discreet, or you
may get into trouble. Keep the eyes of the people off you as much as
possible, and mind not to exercise too much in dangerous places."
"But bless your lordship, what am I to do?" exclaimed Van Noost. "You
know mine is an active bustling spirit; and, if I am not to exercise
my genius upon lead, I shall probably exercise it upon something else.
Good faith, I must dabble a little in my old trade, even if it be but
in casting little-leaden figures of soldiers and dairymaids,
hand-in-hand, for the benefit of the children of the tenantry."
"I did not speak of that exercise of your genius," replied Smeaton.
"Cast as many leaden figures as you will, my friend. They can find you
a cauldron as big as a witch's, I dare say; and you can set up a shop
in the old courtyard. But eschew politics, Van Noost, and keep your
hand from the treason-pot. You have put your fat in peril already, it
would appear, my good friend. So keep quiet till the danger has passed
away. Here comes the boy, I think."
It was as he supposed; and, though the boy, with very limited
instructions, had expected only to see one person to guide, so that he
was somewhat puzzled on finding two, Van Noost was soon placed under
his guidance; and, while Smeaton returned to the house to enjoy for a
short space longer sweet converse with Emmeline, the worthy statuary
moved away to seek for the pony he had left tied under a tree. It was
easily found; for, having been left at some distance, it had escaped
all notice from the soldiery; but the beast was tired with its
exertions during the day, and was very willing to go at such a pace as
suited the convenience of the young guide.
The way seemed to Van Noost interminably long, as all new ways do in
the dark; but the distance was in reality by no means very great, and
at length the boy, who had chatted very freely with the statuary as
they went, pointed to the entrance of a road between two deep
hedgerows, telling Van Noost to follow it straight on, and it would
lead him to Keanton House.
"There are seven gates to open," said the boy, "and about half a mile
over the turf. You cannot miss the road, for it is all straight."
Van Noost, however, did contrive to miss the road; for when he came
upon the turf, the moon had gone down; the tracks of the road had
disappeared; and, instead of going on as his face was pointed, he
turned a little to the left, which led him away from the object he had
in view. The summer sun, however, soon befriended him; first by
showing him, in the grey twilight of the early morning that he had
gone wrong, and then, by greater light, enabling him to get right. He
had to turn back nearly a mile, however, the road lying all the way
over smooth green turf, covering the gentle undulations of the
country, with no indications of a path, but here and there the track
of cartwheels in the soft sward, or the prints of a horse's feet. Van
Noost was led on, indeed, and in the right direction, by the sight of
some fine old trees rising up over the edge of a hollow at the
distance of about a mile, and some chimneys, and sharp-pointed gables
and roofs, breaking the rounded lines of the foliage.
The sun was just up when the statuary, passing through the elms and
oaks, came in sight of the whole building, a fine old irregular mass
of brickwork, somewhat like an antique French château, with tall
masses of no-styled architecture, small windows very irregularly
disposed, and a somewhat superfluous number of doors. Grey and yellow
lichens and green moss covered the walls and the eaves; the ivy ran up
many of the square tower-like masses, and the house-leek might be seen
dropping over the edges of the lower roofs. Ten or twelve tall elms,
loaded with rooks' nests, at one corner of the building, marked where
the esplanade began which ran before the principal _façade_; but, on
the side next to Van Noost, appeared a large farm-yard, surrounded by
a low wall and thickly littered with straw, on which reposed a number
of cows, promising a plentiful supply of milk, butter, and cheese. The
early-rising and consequential cock was strutting about in his gaudy
livery; the white, black, and grey ladies of his seraglio were
wandering in quest of food. Numerous were ducks in a pond at one
corner, and a troop of geese, waddling and curtseying and bending
their heads, came forward to taste the morning air, and crop the green
grass upon the downs. But no human being was to be seen; man was
absent from the picture, and Van Noost raised his eye from window to
window, to discover any signs of life within, but in vain.
"This must be Keanton," he said to himself. "It is just the sort of
place; but they seem rather late risers here for country people. If
they had been at the Ridotto last night, or at the Water theatre, or
at the Italians, they might well be lagging in bed; but here, where
they have nothing to do but lie down and go to sleep when the sun
sets, they might very well get up when he rises, methinks. Hark!"
The sounds which had called his attention increased, and round the
corner, by the rookery, came a young peasant-lad in his broad hat and
his yellow frock, whistling gaily. All Van Noost's weariness and
wandering were forgotten in the joyful sight; and, whipping on his
pony, he rode up to the lad, asking him if there was nobody up in the
house.
"I cannot tell," replied the youth, with a strong Devonshire accent.
"Master Thompson at the farm is up."
As he spoke, he looked very earnestly at Van Noost, and there was a
sly, quiet, inquiring glance of the eye, which did not at all
harmonize with his gay thoughtless aspect the moment before, as he
came whistling along. It was not alone shrewd, but suspicious, and Van
Noost said to himself--
"Ay, ay, these tenants are all well drilled not to endanger their
master's interests by any indiscretion. Now, I will answer for it,
there would be no slight difficulty in getting any straightforward
answer from this good youth. I'll try."
"So, the farmer's name is Master Thompson," he said, aloud. "A very
good name, too. Pray, what is your name, my lad?"
"What is yours?" said the young man, looking him point blank in the
face.
"That is not the question," answered Van Noost. "I asked what yours
is!"
"Then that is not the question either," replied the lad; "but if you
be the gentleman come from Exeter, you ought to know my name."
"I have not been in Exeter," replied Van Noost; "and, even if I had, I
don't see how I should know your name, when I never saw your face
before. If you carried it written upon your forehead like a certain
old lady of Babylon, one might know something about it."
"To be sure," replied the lad; "and so should I know something about
yours. I am not fond of answering questions, master; so, if you have
come to speak to me from Exeter, you had better speak out.
Ballimoree!"
"Ballimoree!" exclaimed Van Noost, with surprise. "What in the name of
fortune does Ballimoree mean?"
"It means good morning to you, master," said the young man, with a
knowing nod of the head; and he walked away, without waiting for any
further question.
"Ballimoree! Ballimoree!" mentally ejaculated Van Noost. "What the
deuce does he mean by Ballimoree?"
And when he had looked after the young man for a minute or two, he
turned his pony's head to see if he could discover the farm-house
which had been mentioned. It was by no means difficult to do so, for
as soon as he had passed the rookery it became visible, with a number
of small houses and cottages, in a little wild dell to the right.
At the door of the farm-house he found a stout elderly man of a very
frank and open countenance, and having his hands in his pockets,
according to the usually prescribed form of English farmers. Riding up
straight towards him, Van Noost considered, as he went, how he should
address him, and make his wishes known.
"The noble lord," he thought, "said I was to ask either for Master
Jennings or Master Thompson; but then I was not told to say
Ballimoree. I was to inform them that I came from the _River Head_,
and to bid them give me shelter, food, and protection. It was to
Jennings I was to say that; but perhaps the pass-word at Master
Thompson's may be, Ballimoree. I'll essay it." And, riding up to the
fence before the farm-house, he hallooed out--
"Your name is Thompson, sir, I believe. Ballimoree."
"My name is Thompson, sir," answered the farmer; "but not Ballimoree.
What is Ballimoree?"
"Upon my life, I don't know," answered Van Noost, frankly; "but a
young lad I met up near the house said 'Ballimoree' to me, and told me
that it meant good morning."
"He was funning you, sir," replied the man. "He is a bit of an Exeter
lad, is Dick Peerly, and they are all full of their jokes. Pray what
is your business with me?"
"I was to tell you, Mr. Thompson, that I come from the _River Head_,"
replied Van Noost, laying particular emphasis on the last words; "and
as I am anxious for some quiet and repose, you or Mr. Jennings are to
give me shelter, protection, and food for a time."
The man's whole manner changed in a moment.
"You shall be right welcome, sir," he said. "It will be better that
you should speak with Master Jennings; but, in the meantime, pray come
in and have some refreshment. The cows will be milked in a minute; but
if you like ale and bacon better, we have as good as any in the land.
Ballimoree! what could he mean by Ballimoree? Pray come in, sir--pray
come in. Give me your horse's bridle. I'll have him put up. A pretty
pony, 'pon my life; but he seems to have had enough of it for once."
"Ay, poor beast, he is as tired as, his master," returned Van Noost,
walking towards the house. "He never calculated upon such a ride, nor
I either."
The farmer pointed to a room on the left side of the entrance of his
house, led the pony round to the back, and returned to his guest after
a moment or two, with a bouncing, rosy, country maid-servant, bringing
in the materials for a hearty breakfast; but that word, "Ballimoree,"
seemed to puzzle him as much as or more than it had done Van Noost,
and he continued murmuring it to himself, even while the woman was in
the room. As soon as she was gone, however, and he had pressed his
guest to take some food, he returned to the subject openly, asking--
"Pray, sir, what sort of a lad was this, that said 'Ballimoree' to
you? I saw nobody go up that way but Dick Peerly."
"Oh, he was a lad of nineteen or twenty, with flaxen curly hair, and
eyes rather close together," Van Noost replied. "He came up at first
whistling like a merry innocent sort of noodle; but, when he began to
speak, he looked 'cute enough."
"Ay, he is a dead hand at whistling," said the farmer. "It must be
Dick Pearly, and 'cute enough he certainly is. I don't half like him;
and, if it had not been to oblige my cousin Sam, I would not have had
him on the farm at all. I'll ask him what he means by Ballimoree."
"Oh, I dare say, it was only sauciness," observed Van Noost, and so
the affair dropped for the time.
Shortly after, Master Jennings was sent for from the great house,
where, it would appear, he acted as a sort of steward. He was a grave
old man in a brown suit, and was very courteous and polite to Van
Noost, as soon as he was told the words which the other had been
instructed to address to him. But he and farmer Thompson made many
inquiries after their young lord, and expressed great pleasure to hear
that he was in their neighbourhood.
"I think he might very well return and take possession openly, sir,"
said Master Jennings, "though things are looking rather bad just now.
Yet, from those who know, I have heard that he is in no danger.
However, that is not our affair; and, of course, we shall not say we
know anything of his being in the country. You had better come up with
me to the great house, and we will soon get a bed ready for you, in
case you would like to lie down after your long ride. Anything we can
do to make you comfortable, I am sure shall be done."
"I want nothing," replied the statuary, "but some clay, a great
cauldron, and as much lead as I can get, and I will show you one or
two funny things."
"Anything you want, sir, shall be got directly," said Master Jennings;
"but the lead may be somewhat difficult--for I don't think there is
much of it down about here. I will show you the way, if you please,
sir."
"Have with you, good Mr. Jennings," exclaimed Van Noost, with a
theatrical air, as far as the stiffness of his hind quarters would
permit of his assuming one; and, after thanking his host of the
farm-house for his courteous hospitality, he walked out towards the
mansion above.
"Ballimoree!" said farmer Thompson. "I wonder what the deuce he could
mean by that. I'll find it out."