Volume Ii Part 14 (2/2)
I hesitated to reply, strange enough; though he shewed that he was well aware of all my loss. I felt ashamed to shew that I had no baggage, nor any thing belonging to me. He seemed to guess what pa.s.sed in my mind, and said,--
”Bless your heart, sir, never mind me. I know the rogues have stripped you of all you had; but I want to talk to you about it, and see what is best to be done.”
This gave me courage. I unlocked the door, and shewed him in.
”I suspected how it was,” said he, looking at the table, where the dishes stood untouched; ”you could not eat by yourself, nor I either: so come along with me, and we'll have a bit of supper together, and chat over your business afterwards.”
Perhaps I might have declined a more polished invitation; whether or not, it was of no use to refuse him, for he would not accept an excuse; and down we went to his chamber, and supped together. Unlike my slender meal, his was excellent, and the wine first-rate. He made me tell him about the loss of my trunk, twice over, I believe; and then he moralised a great deal about the rascality of the Continent generally, and Italy in particular, which, however, he remembered, could not be wondered at, seeing that three-fourths of the population of every rank did nothing but idle all day long. After that he inquired whether I had any pursuit myself; and although pleased when I said Yes, his gratification became sensibly diminished on learning the nature of the employment, ”I may be wrong,” said he, ”but I have always taken it, that you diplomatic folk were little better than spies in gold-laced coats--fellows that were sent to pump sovereigns and bribe their ministers.” I took a deal of pains, ”for the honour of the line,” to undeceive him; and, whether I perfectly succeeded or not, I certainly secured his favour towards myself, for, before we parted, it was all settled that I was to travel back with him to England, he having a carriage and a strong purse, and that he was to be my banker in all respects till I reached my friends.
As we journeyed along through France, where my knowledge of the language and the people seemed to give the greatest pleasure to my companion, he informed me that he was a farmer near Nottingham, and had come abroad to try and secure an inheritance bequeathed to him by a brother, who for several years had been partner in a great silk factory near Piacenza.
In this he had only partly succeeded, the Government having thrown all possible obstructions in his way; still he was carrying back with him nearly twenty thousand pounds--a snug thing, as he said, for his little girl, for he was a widower with an only child. Of Amy he would talk for hours--ay, days long! It was a theme of which he never wearied.
According to him, she was a paragon of beauty and accomplishments. She had been for some time at a boarding-school at Brighton, and was the pride of the establishment. ”Oh, if I could only shew her to you!” said he. ”But why couldn't I? what's to prevent it? When you get to England and see your friends, what difficulty would there be in coming down to Hodley for a week or two? If you like riding, the Duke himself at Retton Park has not two better bred ones in his stable than I have!” No need to multiply his arguments and inducements: I agreed to go, not only to, but actually with him--the frank good-nature of his character won on me at every moment, and, long before we arrived at Calais, I had conceived for him the strongest sentiments of affection.
From the moment he touched English ground his enthusiasm rose beyond all bounds; delighted to be once back again in his own country, and travelling the well-known road to his own home, he was elated like a schoolboy. It was never an easy thing for me to resist the infectious influence of any temperament near me, whether its mood was grave or gay, and I became as excited and overjoyed as himself; and I suppose that two exiles, returning from years of banishment, never gave themselves up to greater transports than did we at every stage of our journey. I cannot think of this without astonishment, for, in honest truth, I was all my life attached to the Continent--from my earliest experience I had preferred the habits and customs to our own, and yet, such was the easy and unyielding compliance of my nature, that I actually fancied that my Anglo-mania was as great as his own.
At last we reached Hodley, and drove up a fine, trimly-kept gravel avenue, through several meadows, to a long comfortable-looking farmhouse, at the door of which, in expectant delight, stood Amy herself. In the oft-renewed embraces she gave her father I had time to remark her well, and could see that she was a fine, blue-eyed, fair-haired, handsome girl--a very flattering specimen of that good Saxon stock we are so justly proud of; and if not all her father's partiality deemed as regarded ladylike air and style, she was perfectly free from any thing like pretension or any affectation whatever. This was my first impression: subsequent acquaintance strengthened it. In fact, the Brighton boarding-school had done no mischief to her; she had not learned a great deal by her two years' residence, but she had not brought back any toadying subserviency to the more n.o.bly born, any depreciating sense of her former companions, or any contempt for the thatched farmhouse at Hodley and its honest owner.
If our daily life at the farm was very unvarying, it was exceedingly pleasurable; we rose early, and I accompanied Martin into the fields with the workmen, where we remained till breakfast. After which I usually betook myself to a little brook, where there was excellent fis.h.i.+ng, and where, her household duties over, Amy joined me. We dined about two; and in the afternoon we--that is, Amy and myself--rode out together; and as we were admirably mounted, and she a capital horsewoman, usually took a scamper ”cross country,” whenever the fences were not too big and the turf inviting. Home to tea, and a walk afterwards through the green lanes and mossy paths of the neighbourhood, filled the day; and however little exciting the catalogue of pursuits, when did I feel time pa.s.s so swiftly? Let me be honest and avow, that the position I enjoyed had its peculiar flattery. There was through all their friends.h.i.+p a kind of deferential respect--a sense of looking up to me, which I was young enough to be wonderfully taken by: and my experiences at Foreign Courts--which Heaven knows were few and meagre enough--had elevated me in their eyes into something like Lord Whitworth or Lord Castlereagh; and I really believe, that all the pleasure my stories and descriptions afforded was inferior to the delight they experienced in seeing the narrator, and occasionally the actor, in the scenes described, their own guest at their own table.
It was while revelling in the fullest enjoyment of this pleasant life that I received a Foreign Office letter, in reply to an application I had made for promotion, rejecting my request, and coolly commanding my immediate return to Florence. These missives were not things to disobey, and it was in no very joyful mood I broke the tidings to my host.
”What's it worth?” said Martin, abruptly.
”Oh, in point of money,” said I, ”the appointments are poor things. It is only that there are some good prizes in the wheel, and, whether one is lucky enough to gain them or not, even Hope is something. My salary is not quite two hundred a-year!”
Martin gave a long, low whistle, and said,--
”Why, dang it! my poor brother George, that's gone, had six hundred when he went out as inspector over that silk factory! Two hundred a-year!”
mused he; ”and what do you get at your next promotion?”
”That is not quite certain. I might be named _attache_ at Vienna, which would, perhaps, give me one hundred more--or, if I had the good fortune to win the Ministers favour, I might be made a Secretary at some small legation and have five hundred--that is, however, a piece of luck not to be thought of.”
”Well, I'm sure,” sighed Martin; ”I'm no judge of these matters; but it strikes me that's very poor pay, and that a man like myself, who has his ten or twelve hundreds a-year--fifteen in good seasons--is better off than the great folk dining with kings or emperors.”
”Of course you are,” said I; ”who doubts it? But we must all do something. England is not a country where idleness is honourable.”
”Why not turn farmer?” said Martin, energetically; ”you'd soon learn the craft, I've not met any one this many a-year picks up the knowledge about it like yourself. You seem to like the life too.”
”If you mean such as I live now, I delight in it.”
”Do you, my dear boy?” cried he, grasping my hand, and squeezing it between both his own. ”If so, then never leave us. You shall live with us--we'll take that great piece of land there near the haugh--I've had an eye on it for years back; there's a sheep run there as fine as any in Europe. I'll lay down the whole of those two fields into meadow, and keep the green crops to the back altogether. Such partridge-shooting we will have there yet. In winter, too, the Duke's hounds meet twice a-week. I've got such a strapping three-year-old--you haven't seen him, but he'll be a clipper. Well, don't say nay. You'll stay and marry Amy. I'll give her twenty thousand down, and leave you all I have afterwards.”
This was poured forth in such a voluble strain, that an interruption was impossible; and at last, when over, the speaker stood with tearful eyes, gazing on me, as if on my reply his very existence was hanging.
Surprise and grat.i.tude for the unbounded confidence he had shewn in me were my first sensations, soon to be followed by a hundred other conflicting and jarring ones. I should shame--even now, after years have gone by--to own to some of these. Alas! our very natures are at the mercy of the ordinances we ourselves have framed; and the savage red man yields not more devotion to the idol he has carved, than do we to the fas.h.i.+on we have made our Deity! I thought of the Lady Georginas and Carolines of my acquaintance, and grew ashamed of Amy Haverstock! If I had loved, this I am sure would not have been the case, but I cannot acquit myself that principle and good feeling should not have been sufficient without love! Whether from the length of time in which I remained without answering, or that in my confusion he read something adverse to his wishes, but Martin grew scarlet, and in a voice full of emotion said,--
”There, Mr. Templeton, enough said. I see it will not do--there's no need of explaining. I was a fool, that's all!”
<script>