Part 40 (2/2)
Brightly shone the sun upon the n.o.ble timber embowering the mansion of the a.s.shetons; upon the ancient gateway, in the upper chamber of which Ned Huddlestone, the porter, and the burly representative of Friar Tuck, was rubbing his sleepy eyes, preparatory to habiting himself in his ordinary attire; and upon the wide court-yard, across which Nicholas was walking in the direction of the stables. Notwithstanding his excesses overnight, the squire was astir, as he had declared he should be, before daybreak; and a plunge into the Calder had cooled his feverish limbs and cured his racking headache, while a draught of ale set his stomach right. Still, in modern parlance, he looked rather ”seedy,” and his recollection of the events of the previous night was somewhat confused. Aware he had committed many fooleries, he did not desire to investigate matters too closely, and only hoped he should not be reminded of them by Sir Ralph, or worse still, by Parson Dewhurst. As to his poor, dear, uncomplaining wife, he never once troubled his head about her, feeling quite sure she would not upbraid him. On his appearance in the court-yard, the two n.o.ble blood-hounds and several lesser dogs came forward to greet him, and, attended by this noisy pack, he marched up to a groom, who was rubbing down his horse at the stable-door.
”Poor Robin,” he cried to the steed, who neighed at his approach. ”Poor Robin,” he said, patting his neck affectionately, ”there is not thy match for speed or endurance, for fence or ditch, for beck or stone wall, in the country. Half an hour on thy back will make all right with me; but I would rather take thee to Bowland Forest, and hunt the stag there, than go and perambulate the boundaries of the Rough Lee estates with a rascally attorney. I wonder how the fellow will be mounted.”
”If yo be speering about Mester Potts, squoire,” observed the groom, ”ey con tell ye. He's to ha' little Flint, the Welsh pony.”
”Why, zounds, you don't say, Peter!” exclaimed Nicholas, laughing; ”he'll never be able to manage him. Flint's the wickedest and most wilful little brute I ever knew. We shall have Master Potts run away with, or thrown into a moss-pit. Better give him something quieter.”
”It's Sir Roaph's orders,” replied Peter, ”an ey darna disobey 'em. Boh Flint's far steadier than when yo seed him last, squoire. Ey dar say he'll carry Mester Potts weel enough, if he dusna mislest him.”
”You think nothing of the sort, Peter,” said Nicholas. ”You expect to see the little gentleman fly over the pony's head, and perhaps break his own at starting. But if Sir Ralph has ordered it, he must abide by the consequences. I sha'n't interfere further. How goes on the young colt you were breaking in? You should take care to show him the saddle in the manger, let him smell it, and jingle the stirrups in his ears, before you put it on his back. Better ground for his first lessons could not be desired than the field below the grange, near the Calder. Sir Ralph was saying yesterday, that the roan mare had p.r.i.c.ked her foot. You must wash the sore well with white wine and salt, rub it with the ointment the farriers call aegyptiac.u.m, and then put upon it a hot plaster compounded of flax hards, turpentine, oil and wax, bathing the top of the hoof with bole armeniac and vinegar. This is the best and quickest remedy. And recollect, Peter, that for a new strain, vinegar, bole armeniac, whites of eggs, and bean-flour, make the best salve. How goes on Sir Ralph's black charger, Dragon? A brave horse that, Peter, and the only one in your master's whole stud to compare with my Robin! But Dragon, though of high courage and great swiftness, has not the strength and endurance of Robin-neither can he leap so well. Why, Robin would almost clear the Calder, Peter, and makes nothing of Smithies Brook, near Downham, and you know how wide that stream is. I once tried him at the Ribble, at a narrow point, and if horse could have done it, he would-but it was too much to expect.”
”A great deal, ey should say, squoire,” replied the groom, opening his eyes to their widest extent. ”Whoy, th' Ribble, where yo speak on, mun be twenty yards across, if it be an inch; and no nag os ever wur bred could clear that, onless a witch wur on his back.”
”Don't allude to witches, Peter,” said Nicholas. ”I've had enough of them. But to come back to our steeds. Colour is matter of taste, and a man must please his own eye with bay or grey, chestnut, sorrel, or black; but dun is my fancy. A good horse, Peter, should be clean-limbed, short-jointed, strong-hoofed, out-ribbed, broad-chested, deep-necked, loose-throttled, thin-crested, lean-headed, full-eyed, with wide nostrils. A horse with half these points would not be wrong, and Robin has them all.”
”So he has, sure enough, squoire,” replied Peter, regarding the animal with an approving eye, as Nicholas enumerated his merits. ”Boh, if ey might choose betwixt him an yunk Mester Ruchot a.s.sheton's grey gelding, Merlin, ey knoas which ey'd tak.”
”Robin, of course,” said Nicholas.
”Nah, squoire, it should be t'other,” replied the groom.
”You're no judge of a horse, Peter,” rejoined Nicholas, shrugging his shoulders.
”May be not,” said the groom, ”boh ey'm bound to speak truth. An see! Tum Lomax is bringin' out Merlin. We con put th' two nags soide by soide, if yo choose.”
”They shall be put side by side in the field, Peter-that's the way to test their respective merit,” returned Nicholas, ”and they won't remain long together, I'll warrant you. I offered to make a match for twenty pieces with Master Richard, but he declined the offer. Harkee, Peter, break an egg in Robin's mouth before you put on his bridle. It strengthens the wind, and adds to a horse's power of endurance. You understand?”
”Parfitly, squoire,” replied the groom. ”By th' mess! that's a secret worth knoain'. Onny more orders?”
”No,” replied Nicholas. ”We shall set out in an hour-or it may be sooner.”
”Aw shan be ready,” said Peter. And he added to himself, as Nicholas moved away, ”Ey'st tak care Tum Lomax gies an egg to Merlin, an that'll may aw fair, if they chance to try their osses' mettle.”
As Nicholas returned to the house, he perceived to his dismay Sir Ralph and Parson Dewhurst standing upon the steps; and convinced, from their grave looks, that they were prepared to lecture him, he endeavoured to nerve himself for the infliction.
”Two to one are awkward odds,” said the squire to himself, ”especially when they have the 'vantage ground. But I must face them, and make the best fight circ.u.mstances will allow. I shall never be able to explain that mad dance with Isole de Heton. No one but d.i.c.k will believe me, and the chances are he will not support my story. But I must put on an air of penitence, and sooth to say, in my present state, it is not very difficult to a.s.sume.”
Thus pondering, with slow step, affectedly humble demeanour, and surprisingly-lengthened visage, he approached the pair who were waiting for him, and regarding him with severe looks.
Thinking it the best plan to open the fire himself, Nicholas saluted them, and said-
”Give you good-day, Sir Ralph, and you too, worthy Master Dewhurst. I scarcely expected to see you so early astir, good sirs; but the morning is too beautiful to allow us to be sluggards. For my own part I have been awake for hours, and have pa.s.sed the time wholly in self-reproaches for my folly and sinfulness last night, as well as in forming resolutions for self-amendment, and better governance in future.”
”I hope you will adhere to those resolutions, then, Nicholas,” rejoined Sir Ralph, sternly; ”for change of conduct is absolutely necessary, if you would maintain your character as a gentleman. I can make allowance for high animal spirits, and can excuse some licence, though I do not approve of it; But I will not permit decorum to be outraged in my house, and suffer so ill an example to be set to my tenantry.”
”Fortunately I was not present at the exhibition,” said Dewhurst; ”but I am told you conducted yourself like one possessed, and committed such freaks as are rarely, if ever, acted by a rational being.”
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