The Woodman. G. P. R. James

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СКАЧАТЬ long gaunt jaws rested on the woodman's knee; and sometimes he turned his contemplative eyes upon the fire, seeming to watch it, and muse upon its nature; and sometimes he raised them with a sleepy but affectionate look to his master's face, as if he would fain have spoken to him and asked him, "What shall we do next?"

      Not a look did the poor hound get for some time, however, for his master had other things to think of; but at last the good man laid his hand upon the shaggy head, and said "Honest and true, and the only one!"

      He then resumed his musing again, till at length the dog rose up, and, with slow and stately steps, advanced to the door, and putting down his nose, seemed to snuff the air from without. The woodman lifted up his head and listened; but the only sounds which were audible were those produced by the footfalls of a horse at a distance; and, turning round to the fire again with a well-pleased look, the woodman murmured, "Good. He is coming this way."

      He did not budge from his settle, however, nor seem to pay much attention, till the rapid footfalls of the horse seemed to cease altogether, or turn, in a different direction. Then he looked up and said, "That is strange. He cannot have missed his way after having twice found it before."

      He listened attentively; but still there was no sound audible to his ear; and it was the dog who first discovered that a stranger was approaching. A low growl and then a fierce sharp bark were the intimations which he gave, as soon as his ear caught the sound of a step, and his master immediately called him to him, saying, "Hither, Ban, hither. Down to foot--down, sir;" and the obedient hound immediately stretched himself out at length beside the fire.

      The woodman, in the mean time, gave an attentive ear, and at length distinguished the steps of a man approaching, mixed occasionally with the slow fall of horses' hoofs upon turfy ground, where the iron shoe from time to time struck against a pebble, but otherwise made no noise. Nevertheless he sat still till the noise, after becoming louder and louder, stopped suddenly, as if the traveller had paused upon a small green which stretched out before the door, comparatively open and free from trees for the space of about three quarters of an acre, although here and there a solitary beech rose out of the turf, overshadowing the greater part of the space. No brushwood was there, however, and the small forest road traversed the green on its way towards the distant town, spreading out into a wide sort of sandy track, nearly opposite to the woodman's house.

      As soon as the sound of footsteps ceased, the first inhabitant of the cottage strode across, and threw open the door, demanding, "Who goes there?"

      The answer was as usual--"a friend;" but, before he gave him admission or credence, the woodman was inclined to demand further explanations, saying, "Every man in this day professes himself a friend, and is often an enemy. Say, what friend, and whence?"

      The visitor, however, without reply, proceeded to fasten his horse to a large iron hook, which projected from one of the beams of the cottage, and then advanced straight towards the woodman, who still stood in his doorway. The man eyed him as he came near, and then, seeming better satisfied, retired a step or two to give him entrance. The traveller came forward with a bold free step, and without ceremony walked into the cottage, and took a seat by the fire.

      "Now let us talk a little, my friend," he said, turning to the woodman; "but first shut the door."

      The other did as he was bid, and then, turning round, gazed at the stranger from head to foot with a slight smile. After his contemplation was finished, he pulled his own settle to a little distance and seated himself, saying, "Well?" while the large hound, after snuffing quietly at the stranger's boots, laid his head upon his knee and looked up in his face.

      "You are a hospitable man, I doubt not," said the visitor, "and will give me shelter for an hour or two, I trust. I have ridden hard, as you may see."

      "But not far or long since supper time," rejoined the woodman: "but what want you with me, my lord?"

      "You seem to know me," said Lord Chartley, "and indeed are a very knowing person, if I may believe all.--Are you alone here?"

      "Yes, we are man to man," answered the woodman with a laugh.

      "Is there no one at the back of that door?" demanded Lord Chartley.

      "Nothing more substantial than the wind," replied the other. "Of that there is sometimes too much."

      "Pray how do you know me?" demanded Lord Chartley.

      "I never said I know you," answered the woodman. "Are not your silks and satins, your gilt spurs, the jewel in your bonnet, to say nothing of the golden St. Barnabas, and your twisted sword hilt, enough to mark you out as a lord? But Lord, Lord, what do I care for a lord? However, I do know you, and I will tell you how far it is marvellous. I was in Tamworth yesterday, and saw a man wonderfully gaily dressed, upon a horse which must have cost full three hundred angels, with some forty or fifty followers, all gaily dressed too; so I asked one of the cunning men of the place, who the gay man on the fine horse was, and he answered, it was the young Lord Chartley. Was not that surprising?"

      "Not very," replied Lord Chartley laughing; "but what came after was more marvellous; how this cunning man should have known that the young Lord Chartley would sup at the abbey of Atherston St. Clare tonight."

      "It was," answered the woodman, in the same sort of ironical tone, "especially as the Lord Chartley mentioned his purpose gaily to Sir Edward Hungerford, and Sir Edward Hungerford told it to Sir Charles Weinants, and Sir Charles Weinants to his servant Dick Hagger, who, as in duty bound, told it to Boyd the woodman, and asked if there were really any pretty girls to be seen at the abbey, or whether it was a mere gibe of the good lord's."

      "The good lord was a great fool for his pains," said Lord Chartley, thoughtfully; "and yet not so much so either, for it was needful to give a prying ass some reason for going."

      "Take care, my good lord," replied the woodman, nodding his head sententiously, "Take care that you don't find the prying ass a vicious ass too. Those donkies kick very hard sometimes, and there is no knowing when they will begin."

      "Oh, this is a soft fool," replied the nobleman. "I fear him not. There are others I fear more."

      "And none too much," replied the woodman, "though this man you fear too little."

      Lord Chartley sat and mused for several moments without reply. Then, raising his head suddenly, he looked full in the woodman's face, saying, "Come, come, my friend, we must speak more clearly. If what the abbess told me be true, you should know that we are upon no jesting matters."

      "Good faith, I jest not, my lord," said the woodman. "I speak in as sober seriousness as ever I can use in this merry world, where everything is so light that nothing deserves a heavy thought. Why, here the time was, and I remember it well, when taking a man's life without battle or trial was held to be murder by grave old gentlemen with white beards. Now heads fall down like chesnuts about the yellow autumn time of the year, and no one heeds it any more than if they were pumpkins. Then again I recollect the time when a man confided in his wife and she did not betray him, and might lend his purse to his friend without having his throat cut as payment of the debt. Learned clerks, in those days, sang songs and not lewd ballads; and even a courtier would tell truth--sometimes. It is long ago indeed; but now, when life, and faith, and truth cannot be counted upon for lasting more than five minutes beyond the little present moment in which we stand, how can any man be very serious upon any subject? There is nothing left in the world that is worth two thoughts."

      "Methinks there is," answered Lord Chartley; "but you touch upon the things which brought me here. If faith and truth be as short-lived as you would СКАЧАТЬ