The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 1. Lever Charles James

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ were routed in a moment, and, vowing intentions of a very different purport to the whole household, he opened the door and sprang out. Dark as the night was, he could see that there were no horses to the carriage, and, with redoubled anger at the delay, he strode into the inn.

      “Holloa, I say – house here! Linwood! Where the devil is the fellow?”

      “Here, sir,” cried a smart-looking London servant, as he sprang from the bar with his eyes bolting out of his head from the heat of the last mouthful, swallowed in a second. “I’ve been a trying for horses, sir; but they’ve never got ‘em, though they ‘ve been promising to let us have a pair this half-hour.”

      “No horses! Do you mean that they’ve not got a pair of posters in a town like this?”

      “Yes, indeed, sir,” interposed a dirty waiter in a nankeen jacket; for the landlord was too indignant at the rejection of his proposal to appear again, “we’ve four pair, besides a mare in foal; but there’s a deal of business on the line this week past, and there’s a gentleman in the parlor now has taken four of them.”

      “Taken four! Has he more than one carriage?”

      “No, sir, a light chariot it is; but he likes to go fast.”

      “And so do I – when I can,” muttered Forester, the last words being an addition almost independent of him. “Could n’t you tell him that there’s a gentleman here very much pressed to push on, and would take it as a great favor if he’d divide the team?”

      “To be sure, sir, I’ll go and speak to him,” said the waiter, as he hurried away on the errand.

      “I see how it is, sir,” said Linwood, who, with true servant dexterity, thought to turn his master’s anger into any other channel than towards himself, “they wants to get you to stop the night here.”

      “Confound this trickery! I’ll pay what they please for the horses, only let us have them. – Well, waiter, what does he say?”

      “He says, sir,” said the waiter, endeavoring to suppress a laugh, “if you ‘ll come in and join him at supper, you shall have whatever you like.”

      “Join him at supper! No, no; I’m hurried, I’m anxious to get forward, and not the least hungry besides.”

      “Hadn’t you better speak a word to him, anyhow?” said the waiter, half opening the parlor door. And Forester, accepting the suggestion, entered.

      In the little low-ceilinged apartment of the small inn, at a table very amply and as temptingly covered, sat a large and, for his age, singularly handsome man. A forehead both high and broad surmounted two clear blue eyes, whose brilliancy seemed to defy the wear of time; regular and handsome teeth; and a complexion the very type of health appeared to vouch for a strength of constitution rare at his advanced age. His dress was the green coat so commonly worn by country gentlemen, with leather breeches and boots, nor, though the season was winter, did he appear to have any great-coat, or other defence against the weather. He was heaping some turf upon the fire as Forester entered, and, laughingly interrupting the operation, he stood up and bowed courteously.

      “I have taken a great liberty, sir, first, to suppose that any man at this hour of the night is not the worse for something to eat and drink; and, secondly, that he might have no objection to partake of either in my company.” Forester was not exactly prepared for a manner so palpably that of the best society, and, at once repressing every sign of his former impatience, replied by apologizing for a request which might inconvenience the granter. “Let me help you to this grouse-pie, and fill yourself a glass of sherry; and by the time you have taken some refreshment, the horses will be put to. I am most happy to offer you a seat.”

      “I am afraid there is a mistake somewhere,” said Forester, half timidly. “I heard you had engaged the only four horses here, and as my carriage is without, my request was to obtain two if you – ”

      “But why not come with me? I ‘m pressed, and must be up, if possible, before morning. Remember, we are forty-eight miles from Dublin.”

      “Dublin! But I’m going the very opposite road. I’m for Westport.”

      “Oh, by Jove! that is different. What a stupid fellow the waiter is! Never mind; sit down. Let us have a glass of wine together. You shall have two of the horses. Old Wilkins must only make his spurs supply the place of the leaders.”

      There was a hearty good-nature in every accent of the old man’s voice, and Forester drew his chair to the table, by no means sorry to spend some time longer in his company.

      There is a kind of conversation sacred to the occupations of the table, – a mixture of the culinary and the social, the gustatory with the agreeable. And the stranger led the way to this, with the art of an accomplished proficient, and while recommending the good things to Forester’s attention, contrived to season their enjoyment by a tone at once pleasing and cordial.

      “I could have sworn you were hungry,” said he, laughing, as Forester helped himself for the second time to the grouse-pie. “I know you did not expect so appetizing a supper in such a place; but Rickards has always something in the larder for an old acquaintance, and I have been travelling this road close upon sixty years now.”

      “And a dreary way it is,” said Forester, “except for this most agreeable incident. I never came so many miles before with so little to interest me.”

      “Very true; it is a flat, monotonous-looking country, and poor besides; but nothing like what I remember it as a boy.”

      “You surely do not mean that the people were ever worse off than they seem now to be?”

      “Ay, a hundred times worse off. They may be rack-rented and over-taxed in some instances now, – not as many as you would suppose, after all, – but then, they were held in actual slavery, nearly famished, and all but naked; no roads, no markets; subject to the caprice of the landowners on every occasion in life, and the faction fights – those barbarous vestiges of a rude time – kept up and encouraged by those who should have set the better example of mutual charity and good feeling. These unhappy practices have not disappeared, but they are far less frequent than formerly; and however the confession may seem to you a sad one, to me there is a pride in saying, Ireland is improving.”

      “It is hard to conceive a people more miserably off than these,” said Forester, with a sigh.

      “So they seem to your eyes; but let me remark that there is a transition state between rude barbarism and civilization which always appears more miserable than either; habits of life which suggest wants that can rarely, if ever, be supplied. The struggle between poverty and the desire for better, is a bitter conflict, and such is the actual condition of this people. You are young enough to witness the fruits of the reformation; I am too old ever to hope to see them, but I feel assured that the day is coming.”

      “I like your theory well; it has Hope for its ally,” said Forester, as he gazed on the benevolent features of the old squire.

      “It has even better, sir, it has truth; and hence it is that the peasantry, as they approach nearer to the capital, – the seat of civilization, – have fewest of those traits that please or attract strangers; they are in the transition state I speak of; while down in my wild country, you can see them in their native freshness, reckless and improvident, but light-hearted and happy.”

      “Where may the country be you speak of, sir?” said Forester.

      “The Far West, beside the Atlantic. СКАЧАТЬ