LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

squoire,” rejoined the farmer, “an mightily pleased hoo be wi’ it, too.”

      “Happy to hear if, Master Tetlow,” replied Nicholas, “she’ll be better pleased before the day’s over, I’ll warrant her. I’ll dance a round with her myself in the hall at night.”

      “Theere now, Meg, whoy dunna ye may t’ squoire a curtsy, wench, an thonk him,” said Tetlow, nudging his pretty wife, who had turned away, rather embarrassed by the free gaze of the squire. Nicholas, however, did not wait for the curtsy, but went away, laughing, to overtake Richard Assheton, who had walked on.

      “Ah, here’s Frank Garside,” he continued, espying another rustic acquaintance. “Halloa, Frank, I’ll come over one day next week, and try for a fox in Easington Woods. We missed the last, you know. Tom Brockholes, are you here? Just ridden over from Sladeburne, eh? When is that shooting match at the bodkin to come off, eh? Mind, it is to be at twenty-two roods’ distance. Ride over to Downham on Thursday next, Tom. We’re to have a foot-race, and I’ll show you good sport, and at night we’ll have a lusty drinking bout at the alehouse. On Friday, we’ll take out the great nets, and try for salmon in the Ribble. I took some fine fish on Monday—one salmon of ten pounds’ weight, the largest I’ve got the whole season.—I brought it with me to-day to the Abbey. There’s an otter in the river, and I won’t hunt him till you come, Tom. I shall see you on Thursday, eh?”

      Receiving an answer in the affirmative, squire Nicholas walked on, nodding right and left, jesting with the farmers, and ogling their pretty wives and daughters.

      “I tell you what, cousin Dick,” he said, calling after Richard Assheton, who had got in advance of him, “I’ll match my dun nag against your grey gelding for twenty pieces, that I reach the boundary line of the Rough Lee lands before you to-morrow. What, you won’t have it? You know I shall beat you—ha! ha! Well, we’ll try the speed of the two tits the first day we hunt the stag in Bowland Forest. Odds my life!” he cried, suddenly altering his deportment and lengthening his visage, “if there isn’t our parson here. Stay with me, cousin Dick, stay with me. Give you good-day, worthy Mr. Dewhurst,” he added, taking off his hat to the divine, who respectfully returned his salutation, “I did not look to see your reverence here, taking part in these vanities and idle sports. I propose to call on you on Saturday, and pass an hour in serious discourse. I would call to-morrow, but I have to ride over to Pendle on business. Tarry a moment for me, I pray you, good cousin Richard. I fear, reverend sir, that you will see much here that will scandalise you; much lightness and indecorum. Pleasanter far would it be to me to see a large congregation of the elders flocking together to a godly meeting, than crowds assembled for such a profane purpose. Another moment, Richard. My cousin is a young man, Mr. Dewhurst, and wishes to join the revel. But we must make allowances, worthy and reverend sir, until the world shall improve. An excellent discourse you gave us, good sir, on Sunday: viii. Rom. 12 and 13 verses: it is graven upon my memory, but I have made a note of it in my diary. I come to you, cousin, I come. I pray you walk on to the Abbey, good Mr. Dewhurst, where you will be right welcome, and call for any refreshment you may desire—a glass of good sack, and a slice of venison pasty, on which we have just dined—and there is some famous old ale, which I would commend to you, but that I know you care not, any more than myself, for creature comforts. Farewell, reverend sir. I will join you ere long, for these scenes have little attraction for me. But I must take care that my young cousin falleth not into harm.”

      And as the divine took his way to the Abbey, he added, laughingly, to Richard,—“A good riddance, Dick. I would not have the old fellow play the spy upon us.—Ah, Giles Mercer,” he added, stopping again,—“and Jeff Rushton—well met, lads! what, are you come to the wake? I shall be at John Lawe’s in the evening, and we’ll have a glass together—John brews sack rarely, and spareth not the eggs.”

      “Boh yo’n be at th’ dawncing at th’ Abbey, squoire,” said one of the farmers.

      “Curse the dancing!” cried Nicholas—“I hope the parson didn’t hear me,” he added, turning round quickly. “Well, well, I’ll come down when the dancing’s over, and we’ll make a night of it.” And he ran on to overtake Richard Assheton.

      By this time the respective parties from the Abbey and the Vicarage having united, they walked on together, Sir Ralph Assheton, after courteously exchanging salutations with Dr. Ormerod’s guests, still keeping a little in advance of the company. Sir Thomas Metcalfe comported himself with more than his wonted haughtiness, and bowed so superciliously to Mistress Robinson, that her two sons glanced angrily at each other, as if in doubt whether they should not instantly resent the affront. Observing this, as well as what had previously taken place, Nicholas Assheton stepped quickly up to them, and said—

      “Keep quiet, lads. Leave this dunghill cock to me, and I’ll lower his crest.”

      With this he pushed forward, and elbowing Sir Thomas rudely out of the way, turned round, and, instead of apologising, eyed him coolly and contemptuously from head to foot.

      “Are you drunk, sir, that you forget your manners?” asked Sir Thomas, laying his hand upon his sword.

      “Not so drunk but that I know how to conduct myself like a gentleman, Sir Thomas,” rejoined Nicholas, “which is more than can be said for a certain person of my acquaintance, who, for aught I know, has only taken his morning pint.”

      “You wish to pick a quarrel with me, Master Nicholas Assheton, I perceive,” said Sir Thomas, stepping close up to him, “and I will not disappoint you. You shall render me good reason for this affront before I leave Whalley.”

      “When and where you please, Sir Thomas,” rejoined Nicholas, laughing. “At any hour, and at any weapon, I am your man.”

      At this moment, Master Potts, who had scented a quarrel afar, and who would have liked it well enough if its prosecution had not run counter to his own interests, quitted Roger Nowell, and ran back to Metcalfe, and plucking him by the sleeve, said, in a low voice—

      “This is not the way to obtain quiet possession of Raydale House, Sir Thomas. Master Nicholas Assheton,” he added, turning to him, “I must entreat you, my good sir, to be moderate. Gentlemen, both, I caution you that I have my eye upon you. You well know there is a magistrate here, my singular good friend and honoured client, Master Roger Nowell, and if you pursue this quarrel further, I shall hold it my duty to have you bound over by that worthy gentleman in sufficient securities to keep the peace towards our sovereign lord the king and all his lieges, and particularly towards each other. You understand me, gentlemen?”

      “Perfectly,” replied Nicholas. “I drink at John Lawe’s to-night, Sir Thomas.”

      So saying, he walked away. Metcalfe would have followed him, but was withheld by Potts.

      “Let him go, Sir Thomas,” said the little man of law; “let him go. Once master of Raydale, you can do as you please. Leave the settlement of the matter to me. I’ll just whisper a word in Sir Ralph Assheton’s ear, and you’ll hear no more of it.”

      “Fire and fury!” growled Sir Thomas. “I like not this mode of settling a quarrel; and unless this hot-headed psalm-singing puritan apologises, I shall assuredly cut his throat.”

      “Or he yours, good Sir Thomas,” rejoined Potts. “Better sit in Raydale Hall, than lie in the Abbey vaults.”

      “Well, we’ll talk over the matter, Master Potts,” replied the knight.

      “A nice morning’s work I’ve made of it,” mused Nicholas, as he walked along; “here I have a dance with a farmer’s pretty wife, a discourse with a parson, a drinking-bout with a couple of clowns, and a duello with a blustering knight on my hands. Quite enough, o’ my conscience! but I must get through it the best way I can. And now, hey for the May-pole and the morris-dancers!”

      Nicholas just got up in time to witness the presentation of the May Queen to Sir Ralph Assheton and his lady, and like every one else he was greatly struck by her extreme beauty and natural grace.

      The little ceremony was thus conducted.

Скачать книгу