Arabella Stuart. G. P. R. James

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ certain."

      While he was busy with the bowls, his master's eye, glancing down again as before to the spot where the road and the stream met, rested on the figure of a single horseman coming from the direction of London.

      "There, Lakyn, Lakyn!" he exclaimed; "run in, and never mind the bowls. Tell Sharpe to go round and take Mr. Seymour's horse at the garden gate. I will meet him there."

      The old man hastened to obey, and, with his usual composed step, Sir Harry West--for such was the gentleman's name--proceeded from the terrace, through the garden which we have mentioned, to the angle next to the rookery, where he waited, leaning upon a little gate, till the horseman he had seen on the road arrived at the spot. At the same moment another old servant dressed in grey ran down panting, and doffing his bonnet to the stranger with lowly reverence, held the bridle while he dismounted.

      The horseman then at a quick pace advanced to the gate, which was by this time open to receive him, and with a look of glad and well satisfied reverence kissed the hand of the master of the house. Sir Harry West, however, threw his arm around him affectionately, and gazed in his face, saying, "Welcome, my dear William, welcome! So you are back from Flanders at length. 'Tis eighteen months since I have seen you."

      "'Tis a long time indeed, sir," replied the visitor; "but time has made no change in you, I am glad to see."

      "It has in you, William," answered Sir Harry West; "a great change, but a good one--though why in our boyhood we should desire man's estate I know not. 'Tis but a step to the grave. However, you are a man now both in years and appearance, though you left me but a youth;" and once more he gazed over the young gentleman's face and form, as we look at a country we have known in our early years on returning after a long absence, tracing the changes that have been made therein, and sometimes perhaps regretting even the improvements.

      The countenance and the form that he looked upon were not indeed ill calculated to bear inspection, being those of an English gentleman of about one or two and twenty years of age, and of the best class and character. Now there can be little doubt to any one who has travelled far and wide over distant lands, that the English people are, on the whole--with the exception, perhaps, of some small tribes in the Tyrol, and of one or two districts in Spain, where the Moorish blood has been mixed with the Gothic--the handsomest race that this quarter of the world called Europe can produce; and the young stranger was certainly not inferior to any of his countrymen in personal appearance. He was tall and evidently powerful in form, though some of the slightness of youth was still there, and all its graces. His hair was dark brown and curling in large waves, and his features were as fine as those of any of the faces that poet, painter, or sculptor have ever dreamed or portrayed.

      There was, moreover, a peculiar expression in his countenance which struck the eye more than even the beauty of the lines. It was an expression of depth, of intensity, which sometimes may be seen in very ugly faces, but which is sure to give them a charm which nothing can take away. His manner, too, harmonized with the expression, and gave it force. Before he spoke, especially when, as in the present case, he was intimate with the person with whom he conversed, he paused for a single moment, looking at him thoughtfully, as if seeking the spirit within and addressing himself to it; so that it seemed that there was a communication established between himself and those he loved distinct from that of speech.

      These things, though they be slight, have a considerable influence on the intercourse of ordinary life; and as the sum of human existence is made up of small things, (the greater events being but the accidents,) all that affects their course has its importance.

      Nor is dress, in general, altogether unworthy of attention. Somebody has called it the habitual expression of a man's mind; and, though I cannot agree to that definition in the full sense, yet, certainly, where there is no impediment to his following his own wishes, a man's dress affords strong indications of his tastes and habits of thought. That of William Seymour was not studied, but yet it was such as well became him; there was a certain degree of carelessness about the slashed doublet, of dark green cloth, showing the white satin with which it was lined here and there; but yet it fitted well. The cloak of the same colour, with its edging of gold, was thrown lightly on the shoulder, and the hat and plume not quite straight upon the head. As if fond of the same hues, no other colours were used in any part of his dress, even to the sheath of his sword and dagger, with the exception of the large riding boots of untanned leather, which were those commonly worn by all gentlemen in travelling. These of course bore their own russet hue, and displayed marks of a long ride. The rest of his dress also was somewhat dusty, for the day had been warm and dry; and the roads of England were in those times not of the same firm and solid consistence of which they may boast at present, so that the garments of the traveller were generally more powdered with sand in the summer, and more splashed with mud in the winter, though his horse might display less frequently a pair of broken knees, and his own head find a softer resting-place if he chanced to meet with a fall.

      Of the conversation which ensued at the garden gate between Sir Harry West and William Seymour, I shall not stop to give the details. Suffice it that the words of the traveller merely evinced his satisfaction at seeing again one who had been the guide of his youth, under whom he had first tried his arms in Ireland against Tyrone, and who was, moreover, nearly related to him, being his mother's first cousin; while those of Sir Harry West displayed little less pleasure at seeing the boy whom he had educated in the way of honour, than if he had been his only child. Talking over the events of the last eighteen months, and mingling their conversation with many a reference to former years, they passed through the garden and over the terrace into the house.

      There, over pleasant memories, amidst which there was but little to forget,--for even pains and anxieties, strifes and fatigues, which pass away, gain through the softening glass of memory a rosy hue, mellowed yet warm,--they enjoyed an hour of that sweet intercourse which can only be known to hearts conscious of high and upright purposes; for the things on which remembrance dare not rest, are only follies and vices. All accidental sorrows may be dwelt upon with calmness, or recollected with gratitude to him who sent them; the sorrows that spring from ourselves preserve their unmitigated bitterness. But here there were none such to recal; and, though they spoke of perils, ay, and disasters, of the loss of friends well loved, of bright expectations disappointed, and of aspirations for their country's good unfruitful, yet, in that old hall, no self-reproach mingled with the theme of their discourse; and it was pleasant and soothing both to the young man and the old.

      There we will leave them for a certain time, to return to them ere long.

CHAPTER II.

       Table of Contents

      There was a large fire blazing in the wide, open chimney of a little village inn, although it was, as we have said, the month of May, and the temperature during the day had been warm. Towards evening, however, it had grown colder, and small drops of rain had begun to descend, ending in a heavy shower as night fell. The fire, however, had not been piled up with the logs of which it was principally composed, altogether for the purpose of keeping out the chilly air of evening--though several of the neighbouring peasantry had taken advantage of the cheerful blaze to warm themselves while they drank their jug of ale; and mine host, with his fair white apron, took care to give them every encouragement to remain, and showed not the slightest disinclination to make as many journeys to the hogshead as his guests desired. His wife, however, and his daughter, both of whom were busily engaged in basting some provision, which turned upon two large spits before the cracking wood, seemed much less disposed to the society of the villagers, giving them many a hint that they interrupted them in the care of the capons, distracted their attention from the sirloin, and had well-nigh made them spoil "the dumplings and all" by letting the pot boil over. In the end, the elder dame, СКАЧАТЬ