Part 19 (1/2)

”Augh! and your honour's right--fit for the forty-second;” said the Corporal, falling back; and in a few moments he and his charger found themselves, to their mutual delight, entering the yard of a small, but comfortable-looking inn.

The Host, a man of a capacious stomach and a rosy cheek--in short, a host whom your heart warms to see, stepped forth immediately, held the stirrup for the young Squire, (for the Corporal's movements were too stately to be rapid,) and ushered him with a bow, a smile, and a flourish of his napkin, into one of those little quaint rooms, with cupboards bright with high gla.s.ses and old china, that it pleases us still to find extant in the old-fas.h.i.+oned inns, in our remoter roads and less Londonized districts.

Mine host was an honest fellow, and not above his profession; he stirred the fire, dusted the table, brought the bill of fare, and a newspaper seven days old, and then bustled away to order the dinner and chat with the Corporal. That accomplished hero had already thrown the stables into commotion, and frightening the two ostlers from their attendance on the steeds of more peaceable men, had set them both at leading his own horse and his master's to and fro' the yard, to be cooled into comfort and appet.i.te.

He was now busy in the kitchen, where he had seized the reins of government, sent the scullion to see if the hens had laid any fresh eggs, and drawn upon himself the objurgations of a very thin cook with a squint.

”Tell you, ma'am, you are wrong--quite wrong--have seen the world--old soldier--and know how to fry eggs better than any she in the three kingdoms--hold jaw--mind your own business--where's the frying-pan?--baugh!”

So completely did the Corporal feel himself in his element, while he was putting everybody else out of the way; and so comfortable did he find his new quarters, that he resolved that the ”bait” should be at all events prolonged until his good cheer had been deliberately digested, and his customary pipe duly enjoyed.

Accordingly, but not till Walter had dined, for our man of the world knew that it is the tendency of that meal to abate our activity, while it increases our good humour, the Corporal presented himself to his master, with a grave countenance.

”Greatly vexed, your honour--who'd have thought it?--but those large animals are bad on long march.”

”Why what's the matter now, Bunting?”

”Only, Sir, that the brown horse is so done up, that I think it would be as much as life's worth to go any farther for several hours.”

”Very well, and if I propose staying here till the evening?--we have ridden far, and are in no great hurry.”

”To be sure not--sure and certain not,” cried the Corporal. ”Ah, Master, you know how to command, I see. Nothing like discretion--discretion, Sir, is a jewel. Sir, it is more than jewel--it's a pair of stirrups!”

”A what? Bunting.”

”Pair of stirrups, your honour. Stirrups help us to get on, so does discretion; to get off, ditto discretion. Men without stirrups look fine, ride bold, tire soon: men without discretion cut dash, but knock up all of a crack. Stirrups--but what sinnifies? Could say much more, your honour, but don't love chatter.”

”Your simile is ingenious enough, if not poetical,” said Walter; ”but it does not hold good to the last. When a man falls, his discretion should preserve him; but he is often dragged in the mud by his stirrups.”

”Beg pardon--you're wrong,” quoth the Corporal, nothing taken by surprise; ”spoke of the new-fangled stirrups that open, crank, when we fall, and let us out of the sc.r.a.pe.” [Note: Of course the Corporal does not speak of the patent stirrup: that would be an anachronism.]

Satisfied with this repartee, the Corporal now (like an experienced jester) withdrew to leave its full effect on the admiration of his master. A little before sunset the two travellers renewed their journey.

”I have loaded the pistols, Sir,” said the Corporal, pointing to the holsters on Walter's saddle. ”It is eighteen miles off to the next town--will be dark long before we get there.”

”You did very right, Bunting, though I suppose there is not much danger to be apprehended from the gentlemen of the highway.”

”Why the Landlord do say the reva.r.s.e, your honour,--been many robberies lately in these here parts.”

”Well, we are fairly mounted, and you are a formidable-looking fellow, Bunting.”

”Oh! your honour,” quoth the Corporal, turning his head stiffly away, with a modest simper, ”You makes me blush; though, indeed, bating that I have the military air, and am more in the prime of life, your honour is well nigh as awkward a gentleman as myself to come across.”

”Much obliged for the compliment!” said Walter, pus.h.i.+ng his horse a little forward--the Corporal took the hint and fell back.

It was now that beautiful hour of twilight when lovers grow especially tender. The young traveller every instant threw his dark eyes upward, and thought--not of Madeline, but her sister. The Corporal himself grew pensive, and in a few moments his whole soul was absorbed in contemplating the forlorn state of the abandoned Jacobina.

In this melancholy and silent mood, they proceeded onward till the shades began to deepen; and by the light of the first stars Walter beheld a small, spare gentleman riding before him on an ambling nag, with cropped ears and mane. The rider, as he now came up to him, seemed to have pa.s.sed the grand climacteric, but looked hale and vigorous; and there was a certain air of staid and sober aristocracy about him, which involuntarily begat your respect.

He looked hard at Walter as the latter approached, and still more hard at the Corporal. He seemed satisfied with the survey.