CHAPTER II.
In the well-sanded parlour of a small but neat inn, called the "Roseof Sharon," on the evening of the same day whereof we have just beenspeaking, and in the village, or town, as perhaps we should call it,of Bishop's Merton--for it was beginning to give itself the airs of agreat place--sat two personages finishing their supper, abouthalf-past nine o'clock. Their food was a cold sirloin of roastbeef--for the English nation were always fond of that plain andsubstantial commodity--and their drink was good English ale, the mostharmonious accompaniment to the meat. The elder of the two was ahard-featured, somewhat morose-looking personage, but of a hale, freshcomplexion, with a quick grey eye. There was a great deal of thoughtupon the brow; and round the mouth were some strongly defined lines,we might almost call them furrows. He was as thin and spare, too, as apair of tongs, but apparently strong and active for his age, and hislong limbs and breadth of chest spoke considerable original powers. Hewas dressed altogether in black; and though a tall steeple-crowned hatlay on a chair by his side, he wore while sitting at meat, a smallround cap of dark cloth, in the shape of a half pumpkin, on the top ofhis head. He had also a good strong sword leaning on the chair besidehim, habited like himself in black, with steel points and hilt.
The other was a younger man, very different in appearance; a good dealtaller than his companion, and apparently more vigorous; his facedecorated with an immense pair of moustaches, and a somewhat pointedbeard, both of that indistinct hue which may be called whey-colour.His hair floated upon his shoulders in the style of the Cavaliers;but, to say the truth, it seemed somewhat unconscious of the comb; andhis dress, too, displayed that sort of dirty finery which by no meansprepossesses the wary usurer or experienced tradesman with the idea ofgreat funds at command on the part of the wearer. His doublet ofsoiled leather displayed a great number of ornamented buttons, andshreds of gold lace; his collar and hand-ruffles were of lace whichhad once been of high price, but had seen service probably with moremasters than one, and had borne away in the conflict with the worldmany a hole and tear, more honourable in flag or standard than inhuman apparel. Ranging by his side, and ready for action, was anegregious rapier, with a small dagger placed beside it, as if to setoff its length to greater advantage. On his legs were a large pair ofjack-boots, which he seldom laid aside, and there is even reason tosuppose that they covered several deficiencies; and hanging on a pegbehind was a broad beaver, very unlike the hats usually worn inEngland at the time, ornamented with a long red feather.
As to his countenance and its expression, both were very peculiar. Thefeatures in themselves were not bad--the eyes large, and somewhatprominent. The nose, which was so pre-eminent as to form the chiefobject in the expanse of his countenance, whichever way his face wasturned, was not altogether ill-shaped, and might have passed musteramongst the ordinary noses of the world, had it not been that it wasset in the midst of a patch of red, which seemed to have transferreditself from the cheeks to unite in the centre of the face. Theexpression was bold, swaggering, and impudent; but a touch of shrewdcunning was there, diversified every now and then by a quick, furtivelook around, which seemed to show that the worthy gentleman himself,like a careful sentinel, was always upon the watch.
Certainly, seldom were there ever seen companions more opposite thanwere there seated at supper on the present occasion; and yet it notunfrequently happens, in this strange life of ours, thatcircumstances, inclination, or wayward fortune, makes our comrade ofthe way the man, of all others, least like one's self; and of all thegreat general principles which are subject to exceptions, that whichhas the most is the fact of birds of a feather flocking together.
"I have done," said the elder of the two, laying down his knife.
"Pooh, nonsense!" cried the other; "you haven't eaten half-a-pound. Ishan't have done this half-hour. I am like a camel, Master Randal.Whenever I have an opportunity, I lay in a store in my own stomach forthe journey."
"Or like an ass," replied the other gentleman, "who takes more uponhis back than he can carry."
"No, not like an ass either," replied the man with the greatmoustaches, "for an ass bears the food for other people--I for myself.How can you or I tell whether we shall get another meal for the nextthree days? 'Tis always right to prepare for the worst; and therefore,so long as my stomach will hold and the beef endure, I will go on."
"The man who never knows when he has enough," answered his companion,"is sure, sooner or later, either to want or have too much, and one isas bad as the other."
"Oh, your pardon, your pardon!" cried the tall man; "give me the toomuch. I will always find means to dispose of it--I am of the _too muchfaction_. It's my battle-cry, my rallying word. Give me the too muchby all means. Did you ever see a carpenter cut out a door? Did youever see a tailor cut out a coat? Did you ever see a blacksmith forgea horse-shoe? They always take too much to begin with. There areplenty of bags in the world always wide open for superfluities; but,to say truth, I never found I had too much yet: that's an epoch in myhistory which is to come."
"Because, like other fools, you never know when you have enough,"replied the man called Randal; "and as for your future history, itwill form but a short tale, easily told."
"I know what you would say--I know what you would say," replied theother: "that the last act will find me in the most elevated situationI have ever filled, though I may still be a dependant. But I can tellyou, my good friend, that in my many dangerous expeditions andimportant occupations, I have escaped the cross piece of timber andthe line perpendicular so often, that I fear I am reserved for anotherfate, and am in great dread every time I go upon the water."
"You are quite safe," replied the other, with a grim smile: "I'llwager a thousand pounds upon your life, in a worm-eaten boat, with ahole in the bottom. But hemp, hemp, I would have you beware of hemp!'Oddslife! to hear you talk of your dangerous expeditions andimportant occupations---- Cease, cease! I would sleep in peace,to-night and you will give me an indigestion."
"Pshaw!" cried the other; "you have no more stomach than a pipped hen;and as to my exploits, what land have I not visited? what scenes haveI not seen? To whom, if not to me, was owing the defence of Rochelle?To whom----"
"Hush, hush!" said his companion; "tell the tale to others. I would assoon drink vinegar, or eat stale cabbage, as hear lies four timesrepeated, even with a variation."
"Lies!" cried the other; "thunder and lightning, sir----"
"There, there," cried his companion, quietly waving his hand: "thatwill do; no more of it. Thunder and lightning will do nothing at yourbidding; so the less you have to do with them the better, lest youburn your fingers. Try to be an honest man, leave off lying; don'tswagger but when you are drunk; and perchance you may be permitted tohold the horses while other men fight."
"Well, there is no use in quarrelling with a maggot," replied his tallcomrade; and, taking to his knife again, he commenced a new inroad onthe beef, in assailing which, at least, he kept his word with alaudible degree of fidelity.
In the mean while, the gentleman in black turned his shoulder to thetable, and fell into deep thought. But after a moment or two he openedhis lips, with an oracular shake of the head, not exactly addressinghis speech to his companion, but more apparently to the hilt of hisown sword, the point of which he had brought round between his feet,and the blade of which he twirled round and round with his hands whilehe was speaking.
"Nine out of ten of them," he said, "are either rank fools orcold-hearted knaves, presumptuous blockheads, who think they have aright to command, because they have not wit enough to obey; or cunningscoundrels, who aim alone at their own interests, when they areaffecting to serve only their country, and yet are fools enough not tosee that the good of the whole is the good of every part."
"Who, who, who? Whom do you mean?" answered the other.
"English gentlemen," replied the man in black; "English gentlemen, Isay."
"Complimentary, certainly," remarked his comrad
e; "and by no means toogeneral or comprehensive. I dare say it's very, true, though. Sohere's to your health, Master Randal."
"Let my health alone," said Randal, "and take care of your own; for ifyou drink much more of that old ale, your head to-morrow morning willbe as heavy as the barrel from which it comes, and I shall have topump upon you to make you fit for any business whatsoever. Come,finish your supper, and take a walk with me upon the hill. But whomhave we here? One of the rebels, I take it. Now, mind your part, butdo not lie more than your nature absolutely requires."
The last words of this speech were, as may be supposed, spoken in alow voice, an addition having been suddenly made to the party in theroom where they were sitting.
The personage who entered was the same thin, self-denying-lookinggentleman who had passed poor Arrah Neil, as she sat by the fountainin the morning, and had in his own mind, charitably furnished her witha lodging in the stocks. That we may not have to return in order torelate this gentleman's previous history hereafter, we may as wellpause here for a moment to say the few words that are needed on thesubject, especially as some reference may be made to his former lifein another place.
Master Dry, of Longsoaken, as he was now called, had risen from anhumble origin, and, though now a wealthy man, had commenced his careeras the errand-boy of a grocer, or rather general dealer, in thevillage of Bishop's Merton. His master was a rigid man, a Puritan ofthe most severe cast, and his master's wife a buxom dame, givensomewhat to the good things of life, especially of a fluid kind, whichshe employed the ingenuity of young Ezekiel Dry in obtaining for her,unknown to her more abstemious better-half. He thus acquired somesmall skill in deceiving sharp eyes; and it was whispered that hisworthy patron did not fail to give him further improvement in thispeculiar branch of science, by initiating him into the mystery of thedifference between a yard measure and a yard of tape or ribbon,between a pound weight and a pound of sugar or butter; between which,as the learned reader is aware, there is a great and importantdistinction.
As worthy Ezekiel Dry grew up into a young man, his master settleddown into an old one; and at length Death, who, like his neighbours ina country town, is compelled occasionally to go to the chandler'sshop, called one morning at the door of Ezekiel's master, and wouldnot be satisfied without his full measure.
The usual course of events then took place. There was a widow, and ashopman; the widow was middle-aged and wealthy, the shopman young andpoor; and Mr. Dry became a married man, and master of the shop. Duringa probation of twenty years, which his state of matrimony lasted, hedid not altogether escape scandal; but in those times, as in others,very rigid piety (at least in appearance) was not always accompaniedby very rigid morality; and those people who conceived that they mightexist separately, looked upon the latter as of very little consequencewhere the former was pre-eminent.
At length, after having resisted time and strong waters (which hersecond husband never denied her in any quantity) to the age of nearlyseventy, Mrs. Dry slept with her ancestors; and Mr. Dry went onflourishing, till at length he sold his house and shop to anotherpillar of the conventicle, and bought a good estate in the nearneighbourhood, called Longsoaken. He still kept up his connection withhis native town, however, became a person of the highest considerationtherein, took part in all its councils, managed many of its affairs,was acquainted with all its news, and was the stay of the Puritans,the terror of the parson, and the scorn of the Cavaliers.
It was his usual custom, as he still remained a widower, to look intothe "Rose of Sharon" every fine afternoon--less, as he said, to takeeven the needful refreshment of the body, than to pause and meditatefor half-an-hour, before he retired to his own house; but it wasremarked that, on these occasions, he invariably had a small measureof some kind of liquid put down beside him, and consulted the hostupon the affairs of everybody in the place.
In the present instance, Mr. Dry had received immediate informationthat two strangers had appeared at the "Rose of Sharon" between eightand nine, and he had hastened up from Longsoaken without loss of time;but he had spent nearly half-an-hour with the landlord in an innerchamber, inquiring into all the particulars of their appearance anddemeanour. Now, the landlord had lost more than one good customer inconsequence of the unpleasant interference of his respected neighbour,who had occasionally caused some of the most expensive visiters at hishouse to be committed as "malignants;" but as he dared not show anyresistance or make any remonstrance to a person so high in authorityas Master Dry, of Longsoaken, his only course was to defend thecharacters of his guests as far as was safe. But the worthy host was atimid man, and never ventured to pronounce a decided opinion in thepresence of his betters.
In answer, therefore, to the questions now addressed to him, hereplied, "Oh dear, no, worshipful sir! That is to say--for one cannotbe certain of anything in this ungodly world--they do not look like itat all. Malignants are always gay in their apparel, and the gentlemanis dressed just like yourself, all in black. He has got a Genevaskullcap, too, I should not wonder if he were a gifted man likeyourself."
"That may be a mere disguise," said Mr. Dry.
"Then, malignants are always roystering blades," continued thelandlord; "calling for all manner of things, beginning with wine, andending with strong waters. Now, these good people have nought but beefand ale; though, doubtless, as all godly men may do for the comfort ofthe inner man, they will take something more warming before they go;but, as yet, one tankard of ale is all they have had."
"That looks well," said Mr. Dry, oracularly; "not that I would condemnany man for using creature comforts in moderation, according to hisnecessity. Some men's complexion, if of a cold and melancholy nature,does require such helps. I myself am driven to it--but what more, myfriend? Are they grave in their discourse?"
"As heart could wish," replied the landlord. "I should take themrather for the most pious and humble----"
"I will see them myself," interrupted Dry, who began to suspect thelandlord. "It is not easy to deceive my eyes."
But the worthy host contrived to detain his worshipful fellow-townsmanfor some five minutes longer, in order that the guests might finishtheir meal in peace, by opening a conversation relative to the returnof "the poor silly girl, Arrah Neil," as he called her, in regard towhom he had shrewd suspicions that Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, entertainedsentiments not quite so rigid as those which his words in the morningmight seem to imply.
On this part of their conversation, however, I shall not dwell, as itwould be neither very instructive nor very amusing, but will returnonce more to the parlour of the inn which Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken,entered with a staid and stately step, his two eyes bent upon theground, as if he were in deep meditation. The younger of the twoguests in the parlour lolled in his chair and bit his lip. The elderconsidered Mr. Dry attentively, but suffered him to enter the room andapproach the table without saying a word. Neither did he make anymovement of limb or feature, but remained cold, stiff, and dry, as ifhis limbs and his countenance were made of wood. Mr. Dry, however,always recollected that he was a man in authority; and great successin life, where there is any weakness of character, is sure to producea confident self-importance, very comfortable to the possessorthereof, though not particularly agreeable to his friends andcompanions.
As neither of the others uttered a word, then, he began theconversation himself without farther ado.
"I trust we are brethren, sir," he said, addressing the gentleman whomwe have called Randal.
"I trust we are so," replied the other.
"Ahem!" said Mr. Dry, "my name is Dry, sir; Dry, of Longsoaken."
"You may be soaked long enough," murmured the man at the table tohimself; not loud enough to be heard; "you may be soaked long enoughbefore you are moistened, Mr. Dry."
But his companion, who saw his lips move, gave him a grave look andreplied to the intruder, "I am happy to hear it, sir. It is a godlyname, which I have heard of before. Will you never have done with thatbeef, Master Barecolt?"
; "But this mouthful, but this mouthful," replied the gentleman at thetable, "and then I am with you."
"One word before you go," said Mr. Dry: "you seem, sir, a godly andwell-disposed man, and I doubt not have been led into the right way;but there is an air of prelatic malignancy about this person at thetable."
"You are altogether mistaken, worthy Dry," said the good gentleman whohad been paying such devoted attention to the beef; "there is nothingmalignant about my nature, and the air you talk of is but a remnant ofFrench manners caught while I was serving our Calvinistic brethren inthat poor, benighted land. In me, sir, you behold him whom you mayhave heard of--who in the morning preached to the people in thebeleaguered city of Rochelle, from the 2nd verse of the 24th chapterof the book of Joshua, 'Your fathers dwelt on the other side of theflood in old time;' and who in the evening led them out to battle, andsmote the Philistines hip and thigh. That is to say, broke through thestockade, and defeated two regiments of the guards."
"I have heard of the deed," replied Mr. Dry.
"Then you must have heard likewise," said the gentleman at the table,rising up at full length, and making the intruder a low bow, "ofMaster Deciduous Barecolt."
"I think I have, I think I have," said Mr. Dry.
"Then, again," cried Barecolt, "when I defended the pass in theCevennes, with only two godly companions, against the Count de Suzaand a hundred and fifty bloodthirsty Papists--you must surely haveheard of that exploit."
"I cannot say I have," replied Mr. Dry.
"Then, sir, you are ignorant of the history of Europe," answered theother with a look of high indignation; "for trust the name ofDeciduous Barecolt is known from the mouth of the Elbe to the mouth ofthe Danube, and will descend to posterity upon the stream of time,only rendered imperishable by that which destroys other things.Goodnight, Mr. Dry. Now, Master Randal, I am ready to accompany you.Shall we sing a psalm before we go?"
"No," replied Randal abruptly, and picking up his hat, he led the wayout of the room.
The inn was situated near the extremity of the town; and at thedistance of about two hundred paces from the door, the two strangersemerged from between the lines of houses, and found themselves amongthe hedgerows. Without any hesitation as to the track which he was topursue, the younger gentleman mounted a stile to the right, and took apath which, crossing the fields, wound gradually up over one slopeafter another till it reached the brow of the hill on which Bishop'sMerton House was placed.
It was a fine clear moonlight night; and at the distance of about amile from the mansion, they caught a sight of its wide front,extending along the hill till the wings were concealed by a littlewood, behind which, as they walked on, the whole building was speedilylost.
"It is a fine old place," said Barecolt to his companion; "it alwaysputs me in mind of the Escurial."
"More likely puts you in mind of the stocks," said Randal; "for youhave both seen and felt the one, and never set eyes upon the other."
"How can you tell that I never saw it?" exclaimed his companion; "youhave not had the dandling of me ever since I was a baby in arms."
"Heaven forbid!" cried Randal; "but I am sure you never have seen it,because you say you have. However, you must either speak truthto-night or hold your tongue. I did not stop you in your course ofgasconade with that roundheaded knave at the inn, because I knew thatyou must void a certain quantity of falsehood in the day, and it wasnecessary to get rid of it before you came up here; for this younglord is not one to take counterfeit coin."
"The monster!" exclaimed Barecolt; "there is not a more cruel orbarbarous creature in the earth than the man who drives from his doorall the sweet little children of the imagination which you call lies.He is wanting in all human charity. Give me the generous and confidingsoul who believes everything that is said to him, and enjoys the storyof a traveller who relates to him wild scenes in lands he never hasvisited, just as much as if it were all as true as history----"
"Which is itself a lie," rejoined the other. "Had this young man'sfather been alive, you would have found a person after your own heart.He was a man of vast capabilities of belief. His mind was but alooking-glass, always representing what was before it; his religionwas in the last sermon he had heard, his politics in the lastbroadsheet, his opinions those of his companions for the hour, histaste the newest mode that he had seen. He was the quintessence of anordinary-minded man; but his son is a very different being."
Barecolt made no rash promise of abstaining from his favouriteamusement, but walked on for about a hundred yards in silence, tillsuddenly his companion exclaimed, "Do you not see a strange lightshining through the wood before us? Hark, there is an alarum-bell!"And hurrying his pace, he issued forth from the wood some threehundred yards farther on, where the cause of the light they hadremarked became too visible.
Rising up from one of the flanking towers of the old house, in largewhite volumes, to the very sky, was a tall column of smoke, spreadingout towards the top, while from the building itself poured forth therushing flame like a huge beacon, illuminating all the country round.Each window in that tower and the neighbouring wing emitted the sameblaze; and it was very evident--although a number of persons were seenmoving about upon the terrace, engaged apparently in the endeavour toextinguish the fire--that it was making its way rapidly towards therest of the house.
The two strangers ran as fast as possible to give assistance. Butbefore I pursue their adventures on that night, I must turn to speakof all that had taken place within the mansion of Bishop's Mertonduring the evening preceding the disaster which I have described.
Arrah Neil; or, Times of Old Page 3