Venetia - Benjamin Disraeli (books to read as a couple TXT) 📗

make a Turkey merchant[A] of you yet,' said an old gipsy, 'never fear that.'


[Footnote A: _i.e._ We will teach you to steal a turkey]


'Bah, Peter!' said Morgana, with an angry look, 'your red rag will never be still. And what was the purpose of your present travel?' he continued to Plantagenet.

'None; I was sick of silly home.'

'The gentry cove will be romboyled by his dam,' said a third gipsy. 'Queer Cuffin will be the word yet, if we don't tout.'[A]


[Footnote A: His mother will make a hue and cry after the gentleman yet; justice of the peace will be the word, if we don't look sharp.]


'Well, you shall see a little more of us before you decide,' said Morgana, thoughtfully, and turning the conversation. 'Beruna.'

'Ay! ay! Morgana!'

'Tip me the clank, like a dimber mort as you are; trim a ken for the gentry cove; he is no lanspresado, or I am a kinchin.'[A]


[Footnote A: Give me the tankard, like a pretty girl. Get a bed ready for the gentleman. He is no informer, or I am an infant.]


'Ay! ay! Morgana' gaily exclaimed the girl, and she ran off to prepare a bed for the Lord of Cadurcis.


CHAPTER XV.

Dr. Masham could gain no tidings of the object of his pursuit at Southport: here, however, he ascertained that Plantagenet could not have fled to London, for in those days public conveyances were rare. There was only one coach that ran, or rather jogged, along this road, and it went but once a week, it being expected that very night; while the innkeeper was confident that so far as Southport was concerned, his little lordship had not sought refuge in the waggon, which was more frequent, though somewhat slower, in its progress to the metropolis. Unwilling to return home, although the evening was now drawing in, the Doctor resolved to proceed to a considerable town about twelve miles further, which Cadurcis might have reached by a cross road; so drawing his cloak around him, looking to his pistols, and desiring his servant to follow his example, the stout-hearted Rector of Marringhurst pursued his way.

It was dark when the Doctor entered the town, and he proceeded immediately to the inn where the coach was expected, with some faint hope that the fugitive might be discovered abiding within its walls; but, to all his inquiries about young gentlemen and ponies, he received very unsatisfactory answers; so, reconciling himself as well as he could to the disagreeable posture of affairs, he settled himself in the parlour of the inn, with a good fire, and, lighting his pipe, desired his servant to keep a sharp look-out.

In due time a great uproar in the inn-yard announced the arrival of the stage, an unwieldy machine, carrying six inside, and dragged by as many horses. The Doctor, opening the door of his apartment, which led on to a gallery that ran round the inn-yard, leaned over the balustrade with his pipe in his mouth, and watched proceedings. It so happened that the stage was to discharge one of its passengers at this town, who had come from the north, and the Doctor recognised in him a neighbour and brother magistrate, one Squire Mountmeadow, an important personage in his way, the terror of poachers, and somewhat of an oracle on the bench, as it was said that he could take a deposition without the assistance of his clerk. Although, in spite of the ostler's lanterns, it was very dark, it was impossible ever to be unaware of the arrival of Squire Mountmeadow; for he was one of those great men who take care to remind the world of their dignity by the attention which they require on every occasion.

'Coachman!' said the authoritative voice of the Squire. 'Where is the coachman? Oh! you are there, sir, are you? Postilion! Where is the postilion? Oh! you are there, sir, are you? Host! Where is the host? Oh! you are there, sir, are you? Waiter! Where is the waiter? I say where is the waiter?'

'Coming, please your worship!'

'How long am I to wait? Oh! you are there, sir, are you? Coachman!'

'Your worship!'

'Postilion!'

'Yes, your worship!'

'Host!'

'Your worship's servant!'

'Waiter!'

'Your worship's honour's humble servant!'

'I am going to alight!'

All four attendants immediately bowed, and extended their arms to assist this very great man; but Squire Mountmeadow, scarcely deigning to avail himself of their proffered assistance, and pausing on each step, looking around him with his long, lean, solemn visage, finally reached terra firma in safety, and slowly stretched his tall, ungainly figure. It was at this moment that Dr. Masham's servant approached him, and informed his worship that his master was at the inn, and would be happy to see him. The countenance of the great Mountmeadow relaxed at the mention of the name of a brother magistrate, and in an audible voice he bade the groom 'tell my worthy friend, his worship, your worthy master, that I shall be rejoiced to pay my respects to an esteemed neighbour and a brother magistrate.'

With slow and solemn steps, preceded by the host, and followed by the waiter, Squire Mountmeadow ascended the staircase of the external gallery, pausing occasionally, and looking around him with thoughtful importance, and making an occasional inquiry as to the state of the town and neighbourhood during his absence, in this fashion: 'Stop! where are you, host? Oh! you are there, sir, are you? Well, Mr. Host, and how have we been? orderly, eh?'

'Quite orderly, your worship.'

'Hoh! Orderly! Hem! Well, very well! Never easy, if absent only four-and-twenty hours. The law must be obeyed.'

'Yes, your worship.'

'Lead on, sir. And, waiter; where are you, waiter? Oh, you are there, sir, are you? And so my brother magistrate is here?'

'Yes, your honour's worship.'

'Hem! What can he want? something in the wind; wants my advice, I dare say; shall have it. Soldiers ruly; king's servants; must be obeyed.'

'Yes, your worship; quite ruly, your worship,' said the host.

'As obliging and obstreperous as can be,' said the waiter.

'Well, very well;' and here the Squire had gained the gallery, where the Doctor was ready to receive him.

'It always gives me pleasure to meet a brother magistrate,' said Squire Mountmeadow, bowing with cordial condescension; 'and a gentleman of your cloth, too. The clergy must be respected; I stand or fall by the Church. After you, Doctor, after you.' So saying, the two magistrates entered the room.

'An unexpected pleasure, Doctor,' said the Squire; 'and what brings your worship to town?'

'A somewhat strange business,' said the Doctor; 'and indeed I am not a little glad to have the advantage of your advice and assistance.'

'Hem! I thought so,' said the Squire; 'your worship is very complimentary. What is the case? Larceny?'

'Nay, my good sir, 'tis a singular affair; and, if you please, we will order supper first, and discuss it afterwards. 'Tis for your private ear.'

'Oh! ho!' said the Squire, looking very mysterious and important. 'With your worship's permission,' he added, filling a pipe.

The host was no laggard in waiting on two such important guests. The brother magistrates despatched their rump-steak; the foaming tankard was replenished; the fire renovated. At length, the table and the room being alike clear, Squire Mountmeadow drew a long puff, and said, 'Now for business, Doctor.'

His companion then informed him of the exact object of his visit, and narrated to him so much of the preceding incidents as was necessary. The Squire listened in solemn silence, elevating his eyebrows, nodding his head, trimming his pipe, with profound interjections; and finally, being appealed to for his opinion by the Doctor, delivered himself of a most portentous 'Hem!'

'I question, Doctor,' said the Squire, 'whether we should not communicate with the Secretary of State. 'Tis no ordinary business. 'Tis a spiriting away of a Peer of the realm. It smacks of treason.'

'Egad!' said the Doctor, suppressing a smile, 'I think we can hardly make a truant boy a Cabinet question.'

The Squire glanced a look of pity at his companion. 'Prove the truancy, Doctor; prove it. 'Tis a case of disappearance; and how do we know that there is not a Jesuit at the bottom of it?'

'There is something in that,' said the Doctor.

'There is everything in it,' said the Squire, triumphantly. 'We must offer rewards; we must raise the posse comitatus.'

'For the sake of the family, I would make as little stir as necessary,' said Dr. Masham.

'For the sake of the family!' said the Squire. 'Think of the nation, sir! For the sake of the nation we must make as much stir as possible. 'Tis a Secretary of State's business; 'tis a case for a general warrant.'

'He is a well-meaning lad enough,' said the Doctor.

'Ay, and therefore more easily played upon,' said the Squire. 'Rome is at the bottom of it, brother Masham, and I am surprised that a good Protestant like yourself, one of the King's Justices of the Peace, and a Doctor of Divinity to boot, should doubt the fact for an instant.'

'We have not heard much of the Jesuits of late years,' said the Doctor.

'The very reason that they are more active,' said the Squire.

'An only child!' said Dr. Masham.

'A Peer of the realm!' said Squire Mountmeadow.

'I should think he must be in the neighbourhood.'

'More likely at St. Omer's.'

'They would scarely take him to the plantations with this war?'

'Let us drink "Confusion to the rebels!"' said the Squire. 'Any news?'

'Howe sails this week,' said the Doctor.

'May he burn Boston!' said the Squire.

'I would rather he would reduce it, without such extremities,' said Dr. Masham.

'Nothing is to be done without extremities,' said Squire Mountmeadow.

'But this poor child?' said the Doctor, leading back the conversation. 'What can we do?'

'The law of the case is clear,' said the Squire; 'we must move a habeas corpus.'

'But shall we be nearer getting him for that?' inquired the Doctor.

'Perhaps not, sir; but 'tis the regular way. We must proceed by rule.'

'I am sadly distressed,' said Dr. Masham. 'The worst is, he has gained such a start upon us; and yet he can hardly have gone to London; he would have been recognised here or at Southport.'

'With his hair cropped, and in a Jesuit's cap?' inquired the Squire, with a slight sneer. 'Ah! Doctor, Doctor, you know not the gentry you have to deal with!'

'We must hope,' said Dr. Masham. 'To-morrow we must organise some general search.'

'I fear it will be of no use,' said the Squire, replenishing his pipe. 'These Jesuits are deep fellows.'

'But we are not sure about the Jesuits, Squire.'

'I am,' said the Squire; 'the case is clear, and the sooner you break it to his mother the better. You asked me for my advice, and I give it you.'


CHAPTER XVI.

It was on the following morning, as the Doctor was under the operation of the barber, that his groom ran into the room with a pale face and agitated air, and exclaimed,

'Oh! master, master, what do you think? Here is a man in the yard with my lord's pony.'

'Stop him, Peter,' exclaimed the Doctor. 'No! watch him, watch him; send