Part 10 (1/2)

The squire at this time was seated at the head of the table, pus.h.i.+ng down the bottle among his friends, princ.i.p.ally consisting of the neighbouring gentry.

In the course of the day he had sent several times to know whether Twm had arrived. When little Pembroke at length went in to announce his return, he desired he should be immediately sent in, and Twm approached him with a burning cheek and an agitated heart. He questioned him in an undertone, asking _if he had brought her_, and where he had been so long; to which Twm replied, ”Yes, sir, I have brought her, and much trouble I had with her, for she didn't like to come, thinking perhaps you meant her foul play; and once she escaped off the pillion into the mountain.”

”The devil she did!” cried the squire; ”but you caught her again?”

”Oh yes, sir, after losing much time, I have brought her at last, and she is now much tamer than at first; and you can do what you like with her.”

”That's very well,” said the squire; ”I like the notion that she is very tractable.”

”Oh! you'll find she'll do anything now, though I had to make her know her right position. She rolled off the pillion in Tregaron, and showed her legs most dreadfully.”

”Fie! fie!” said the squire, ”I hope you did not look at them?”

”Faith, but I did then, and very pretty they looked. But you'll be able to give your own opinion, sir, by and bye.”

”A good lad, Twm, a good lad, remind me to give you a golden angel for this day's work; but what have you done with her? where is she?”

”Why, sir,” cried Twm. ”I tied her up to the manger and locked the door, to prevent her escape.”

”Shame, Twm, shame! you ought not to have done that, for she will think it was by my orders, and hate me perhaps for my supposed cruelty,” quoth the squire, thinking all the time that Cadwgan's _la.s.s_, and not his a.s.s was the subject of discussion.

”No, sir,” replied Twm, ”but it is likely though, that she will have an ill-will towards me, as long as she lives, for it.”

”Well, well,” said his master hastily, ”take her from the stable into the housekeeper's room, and tell Margery to comfort her and give her a gla.s.s of wine.”

This was too much for Twm, and the smothered laugh burst out in spite of his efforts; on which, his master with a severe brow, asked how he dared to laugh in his presence. ”Indeed I could not help it,” cried Twm, ”but I don't think she ever drank a gla.s.s of wine in her life, and perhaps might not like it.”

”Why, that's true; then tell the butler to give out a bottle of the sweet home-made wine for her-let it be a bottle of the cowslip wine, and say that I am very sorry for the trouble and vexation she has had.”

”Yes, sir,” cried Twm, who made his bow and retired to the servants'

hall, where he made them acquainted with the squire's freak of having farmer Cadwgan's a.s.s brought there on a pillion behind him; and that it was his master's orders that she was to be brought into the house-keeper's room, and a gla.s.s of wine given to her, and that Margery was to make her comfortable.

They were all aware of their master's occasional eccentricities, and that he was as absolute in demanding obedience to his wildest whims, as to the most important matter in the world. With one accord they therefore brought the a.s.s, not without great trouble and opposition on the part of the poor animal, into the housekeeper's room, where Glamorgan Margery spread a small carpet for her to lie on, and amidst the side-aching laughter of the servants, offered a gla.s.s of wine, which no persuasion could induce her to accept.

The squire had given orders that no person was to answer the bell the rest of the evening but Twm. It was now rung, and in went our hero, when he was asked, ”How is she now?” ”Rather fatigued sir; she doesn't like wine, nor would she touch a drop of it.” ”Well, well,” said the squire, ”if she likes ale better let her have some, with a cold fowl and something of the nicest in the house, though perhaps she would prefer a cup of tea to anything. After she has taken the refreshment she chooses, tell Margery to put her to bed, in the green chamber, then lock the door and bring me the key. I can then visit her when I am ready, you know Twm, and depend upon it I will reward you in the morning.” Here Twm's risible faculties were again oppressed to bursting, but a look from his master checked him, though he bit his lip till the blood started in the aid to check his laughter.

Squire Gras.p.a.cre now secretly antic.i.p.ated the completion of his scheme, anxiously waiting for the departure of his guests, who by their noisy hilarity had long given notice that a little more devotion to the bottle would lay them under the table. The wily squire however desisted, before he had pa.s.sed the boundary of what topers call _half and half_, considering in the mean time, that his plan would best succeed by not appearing before Gwenny Cadwgan till midnight, when all his household would be asleep, and himself supposed to have retired to his room.

After some trouble, which was heightened by their forced suppression of laughter, that however, broke out in spite of them, the servants got the donkey up stairs, having previously fed her with bread, oaten cakes, and oats, on her rejection of ale, wine, fowl, and tea, which to their great amus.e.m.e.nt they had successively offered her in vain. Having brought the poor animal into the green room, the best chamber in the house, and kept only for particular guests, they placed her on the fine handsome bed; the legs being already tied, they fastened them also to the bed-posts. Twm heightened the drollery of the scene by cutting two holes in a night-cap, drawing through the donkey's ears, and slitting it at the edge, he drew the cap down carefully towards the eyes. The bed-clothes were then carefully drawn up to the a.s.s's neck, the curtains half drawn, and the first a.s.s that ever slept in a feather bed was then left to enjoy its slumbers as best it could. They bade her good night, locked the door, and gave the key to their master.

The guests at length dispersing, they all rode off as well as their muddled heads would let them, to their respective homes; the squire, as was his custom, locked the door himself, and saw every light in the house out before he retired. At length he gained his chamber, and all was still in Gras.p.a.cre-Hall. The amorous squire, chuckling at his luck as he thought of the fair la.s.s in the green-room, grew too impatient to wait till the proposed hour of midnight, and leaving his candle on his own table, took off his shoes, and softly approached the casket that he deemed contained his precious jewel.

Applying the key, he opened the door very gently, and cautiously approaching the side of the bed, said in a whisper towards the pillow, ”Don't be alarmed, Gwenny, my dear, 'tis I, the squire; fear nothing, my girl, this will be the making of your fortune, my dear; and if you are as kind and loving as I could wish you to be, you may soon become the second Mrs. Gras.p.a.cre.”

Hearing no reply, he considered that according to the old usage, _silence gives consent_, and proceeded to bend his face down to kiss the fair one, when a severe bounce inflicted by his _incognita's_ snout, knocked him backwards off the bed to the floor, and set his nose a-bleeding.

After recovering himself a little, though labouring under the delusion that the blow had been struck by the hand of the fair maiden, he exclaimed in an under-tone, ”You little wixen! how dare you treat me in this manner?” The answer received was a loud and repeated ”he-haw,” with the clattering of hoofs against the bedposts. Now hoofs are suggestive, and the squire rather believed in the supernatural. He again proceeded towards the bed, but was completely horror-struck at the loud bray which the terrified a.s.s sent forth; while the poor terrified animal, after a hard struggle, liberating her limbs, struck him a severe blow on the forehead with her hoof, and getting off the bed, made a terrible clatter with her shod feet over the boards of the room. The unfortunate squire, although hitherto a loud decrier of superst.i.tion, now felt a thrill of the utmost horror pervade him, while he decreed himself ensnared by the enemy of man, as the punishment of his guilty intentions; and after a clamorous outcry fell senseless on the floor.

The servants having but concealed the light, expecting some _denouement_ of this sort, now rushed in, and saw their fallen master ghastly pale, with streams of perspiration running over his forehead, while his wildly-staring eyes alternately looked at, and turned from, the monster of alarm. When he had sufficiently recovered to learn the real state of affairs, from little Pembroke, who had been made Twm's confidante in this matter-how that wight had brought the farmer's a.s.s according to his orders behind him on the pillion, although he had been in some doubt whether he had said Cadwgan's _a.s.s_ or Cadwgan's _la.s.s_, the squire's rage was boundless.

Squire Gras.p.a.cre's rage can be better imagined than described, and all the dormant fiends of evil were at once awakened in his bosom, and the feeling which first actuated him was that of revenge upon Twm, and secondly shame at having been duped, and that with the knowledge of all his household. Exasperated at the trick put upon him by a mere youngster, and a menial, and scarcely less provoked at the exposure he had made of himself before his servants, down he rushed into the hall, and s.n.a.t.c.hed a heavy horsewhip, unlocked the door, and made his way towards our hero's chamber over the laundry; but when he reached the bedside, prepared to inflict the severest punishment that the thong of a whip was capable of, how great was his mortification to find the bird had flown! His chagrin and resentment were anything but lessened, when he took a piece of paper off the bed, on which, in a large hand, were written these pretty lines:-