Part 28 (1/2)
”You will excuse his national drawling accent, sir?” said Albert, ”though I know you like it not.”
”I have small cause, Albert,” answered the knight-”small cause.-Who stirred up these disunions?-the Scots. Who strengthened the hands of Parliament, when their cause was well nigh ruined?-the Scots again. Who delivered up the King, their countryman, who had flung himself upon. their protection?-the Scots again. But this lad's father, you say, has fought on the part of the n.o.ble Montrose; and such a man as the great Marquis may make amends for the degeneracy of a whole nation.”
”Nay, father,” said Albert, ”and I must add, that though this lad is uncouth and wayward, and, as you will see, something wilful, yet the King has not a more zealous friend in England; and, when occasion offered, he fought stoutly, too, in his defence-I marvel he comes not.”
”He hath taken the bath” said Joceline, ”and nothing less would serve than that he should have it immediately-the supper, he said, might be got ready in the meantime; and he commands all about him as if he were in his father's old castle, where he might have called long enough, I warrant, without any one to hear him.”
”Indeed?” said Sir Henry, ”this must be a forward chick of the game, to crow so early.-What is his name?”
”His name?-it escapes me every hour, it is so hard a one,” said Albert-”Kerneguy is his name-Louis Kerneguy; his father was Lord Killstewers, of Kincardines.h.i.+re.”
”Kerneguy, and Killstewers, and Kin-what d'ye call it?-Truly,” said the knight, ”these northern men's names and t.i.tles smack of their origin-they sound like a north-west wind, rumbling and roaring among heather and rocks.”
”It is but the asperities of the Celtic and Saxon dialects,” said Dr.
Rochecliffe, ”which, according to Verstegan, still linger in those northern parts of the island.-But peace-here comes supper, and Master Louis Kerneguy.”
Supper entered accordingly, borne in by Joceline and Phoebe, and after it, leaning on a huge knotty stick, and having his nose in the air like a questing hound-for his attention was apparently more fixed on the good provisions that went before him, than any thing else-came Master Kerneguy, and seated himself, without much ceremony, at the lower end of the table.
He was a tall, rawboned lad, with a shock head of hair, fiery red, like many of his country, while the harshness of his national features was increased by the contrast of his complexion, turned almost black by the exposure to all sorts of weather, which, in that skulking and rambling mode of life, the fugitive royalists had been obliged to encounter. His address was by no means prepossessing, being a mixture of awkwardness and forwardness, and showing in a remarkable degree, how a want of easy address may be consistent with an admirable stock of a.s.surance. His face intimated having received some recent scratches, and the care of Dr. Rochecliffe had decorated it with a number of patches, which even enhanced its natural plainness. Yet the eyes were brilliant and expressive, and, amid his ugliness-for it amounted to that degree of irregularity-the face was not deficient in some lines which expressed both sagacity and resolution.
The dress of Albert himself was far beneath his quality, as the son of Sir Henry Lee, and commander of a regiment in the royal service; but that of his page was still more dilapidated. A disastrous green jerkin, which had been changed to a hundred hues by sun and rain, so that the original could scarce be discovered, huge clouterly shoes, leathern breeches-such as were worn by hedgers-coa.r.s.e grey worsted stockings, were the attire of the honourable youth, whose limping gait, while it added to the ungainliness of his manner, showed, at the same time, the extent of his sufferings. His appearance bordered so much upon what is vulgarly called the queer, that even with Alice it would have excited some sense of ridicule, had not compa.s.sion been predominant.
The grace was said, and the young squire of Ditchley, as well as Dr. Rochecliffe, made an excellent figure at a meal, the like of which, in quality and abundance, did not seem to have lately fallen to their share. But their feats were child's-play to those of the Scottish youth. Far from betraying any symptoms of the bread and b.u.t.ter with which he had attempted to close the orifice of his stomach, his appet.i.te appeared to have been sharpened by a nine-days' fast; and the knight was disposed to think that the very genius of famine himself, come forth from his native regions of the north, was in the act of honouring him with a visit, while, as if afraid of losing a moment's exertion, Master Kerneguy never looked either to right or left, or spoke a single word to any at table.
”I am glad to see that you have brought a good appet.i.te for our country fare, young gentleman,” said Sir Henry.
”Bread of gude, sir!” said the page, ”an ye'll find flesh, I'se find appet.i.te conforming, ony day o' the year. But the truth is, sir, that the appet.e.e.zement has been coming on for three days or four, and the meat in this southland of yours has been scarce, and hard to come by; so, sir, I'm making up for lost time, as the piper of Sligo said, when he eat a hail side o' mutton.”
”You have been country-bred, young man,” said the knight, who, like others of his time, held the reins of discipline rather tight over the rising generation; ”at least, to judge from the youths of Scotland whom I have seen at his late Majesty's court in former days; they had less appet.i.te, and more-more”-As he sought the qualifying phrase, which might supply the place of ”good manners,” his guest closed the sentence in his own way-”And more meat, it may be-the better luck theirs.”
Sir Henry stared and was silent. His son seemed to think it time to interpose-”My dear father,” he said, ”think how many years have run since the Thirty-eight, when the Scottish troubles first began, and I am sure that you will not wonder that, while the Barons of Scotland have been, for one cause or other, perpetually in the field, the education of their children at home must have been much neglected, and that young men of my friend's age know better how to use a broadsword, or to toss a pike, than the decent ceremonials of society.”
”The reason is a sufficient one,” said the knight, ”and, since thou sayest thy follower Kernigo can fight, we'll not let him lack victuals, a G.o.d's name.-See, he looks angrily still at yonder cold loin of mutton-for G.o.d's sake put it all on his plate!”
”I can bide the bit and the buffet,” said the honourable Master Kerneguy-”a hungry tike ne'er minds a blaud with a rough bane.”
”Now, G.o.d ha'e mercy, Albert, but if this be the son of a Scots peer,” said Sir Henry to his son, in a low tone of voice, ”I would not be the English ploughman who would change manners with him for his ancient blood, and his n.o.bility, and his estate to boot, an he has one.-He has eaten, as I am a Christian, near four pounds of solid butcher's meat, and with the grace of a wolf tugging at the carca.s.s of a dead horse.- Oh, he is about to drink at last-Soh!-he wipes his mouth, though,-and dips his fingers in the ewer-and dries them, I profess, with the napkin!-there is some grace in him, after all.”
”Here is wussing all your vera gude healths!” said the youth of quality, and took a draught in proportion to the solids which he had sent before; he then flung his knife and fork awkwardly on the trencher, which he pushed back towards the centre of the table, extended his feet beneath it till they rested on their heels, folded his arms on his well-replenished stomach, and, lolling back in his chair, looked much as if he was about to whistle himself asleep.
”Soh!” said the knight-”the honourable Master Kernigo hath laid down his arms.-Withdraw these things, and give us our gla.s.ses-Fill them around, Joceline; and if the devil or the whole Parliament were within hearing, let them hear Henry Lee of Ditchley drink a health to King Charles, and confusion to his enemies!”
”Amen!” said a voice from behind the door.
All the company looked at each other in astonishment, at a response so little expected. It was followed by a solemn and peculiar tap, such as a kind of freemasonry had introduced among royalists, and by which they were accustomed to make themselves and their principles known to each other, when they met by accident.
”There is no danger,” said Albert, knowing the sign-”it is a friend;-yet I wish he had been at a greater distance just now.”
”And why, my son, should you wish the absence of one true man, who may, perhaps, wish to share our abundance, on one of those rare occasions when we have superfluity at our disposal?-Go, Joceline, see who knocks-and, if a safe man, admit him.”
”And if otherwise,” said Joceline, ”methinks I shall be able to prevent his troubling the good company.”