“Here’s wishing your honour and Mistress Dulcia a pleasant morning’s pastime, then,” Ninian said, doffing his cap, “though it hath begun badly, fegs! Take the spaniels, father. I’ll go round by the shaw,” he whispered, “and join you by the nearest burgh on the downs. The rook hath ‘scaped me now,” he muttered, eyeing Micklegift askance, as he went away; “but though I have missed this chance, I may find another.”
Meanwhile, at the exhortation of Micklegift, Morefruit Stone and the rest of the sanctimonious flock had likewise returned to their labour.
“Peace is restored,” Micklegift said to the colonel. “Proceed on thy way.”
“Hold!” Nehemiah exclaimed. “I will not shut mine ears to the voice of a Minister of the Word, and since thou desirest peace, peace there shall be. Yet ere I suffer this dangerous malignant to pass, I must know his errand. He is placed under restraint by the Council, and may not go beyond a limit of five miles.”
“You hear what the man in authority saith,” Micklegift cried, addressing the colonel. “Satisfy him, I pray you.”
“My errand is apparent,” the old Cavalier rejoined, chafing at the interruption. “I am not as yet a prisoner in my own house, and am about to enjoy the pastime of hawking upon yonder downs.”
“So thou sayest,” Nehemiah rejoined; “but I have been too often deluded by those of thy dissembling party to trust thee without some pledge of thy sincerity.”
“Ha! dost dare to doubt me, fellow?” the colonel cried.
“Hinder him not,” Micklegift interposed. “I will be his surety.”
“Thou!” Nehemiah exclaimed, in astonishment, while the colonel himself looked equally surprised.
“Even I, one of the elect,” the minister replied. “Let him pass freely. These worthy persons,” he added, in a lower tone to the colonel, glancing at the same time at Dulcia, “tarry with me till to-morrow, and much vexation and trouble may be spared thee by discreet behaviour towards them.”
To this speech the colonel vouchsafed no reply, but rode slowly past Nehemiah and the emissary from Goldsmiths’ Hall, who stood beside him, followed by the elder Saxby with the hawks and spaniels.
As Dulcia went by, the Independent minister drew near her, and regarding her fixedly, said in a low tone, “I shall expect thy answer to-morrow, damsel.”
Hawking on the Downs
III
THE TARTARET AND THE HERON
AFTER this somewhat inauspicious commencement of his ride, Colonel Maunsel, with Dulcia and Eustace Saxby, turned off on the right, and mounting a steep road cut in the chalk, which skirted the garden-wall, soon gained the charming down at the rear of the mansion.
The day was delightful. A pleasant breeze, fresh but not too strong, and redolent of the sea, came from the south-west. Fleecy clouds swept rapidly overhead, their shadows flitting across the downs in the direction which the party were about to take. So invigorating was the breeze—so beautiful the prospect—so calm and gentle the aspect of all nature—that the colonel, though worn-out by long watching, fatigue of body, and great mental anxiety—exasperated, moreover, by the insults he had recently endured—soon experienced the kindly influence of the scene, felt his chest dilate, and his spirits revive.
At no point, as we have elsewhere remarked, are the downs more beautiful than here. Our old Cavalier had a great love for the eminence on which he now found himself. In moments of impatience he talked of exiling himself from the rebellious land of his birth, but he would have been miserable if he had carried his threat into execution. His severe rheumatic attacks having confined him of late altogether to the house and garden, summer had gone by, and he had not once visited his favourite downs. It was therefore, with redoubled delight that he found himself, after so long an absence, once more upon their breezy heights. He seemed as if he would never tire with gazing at the prospect around him. Familiar as it was, if he had looked upon it for the first time it could not have charmed him more.
Crossing the brow of the hill, the party reached the brim of a steep escarpment dipping into a beautifully hollowed combe; and here the colonel came to a momentary halt. The sides of this hollow, smooth as if scooped out by art, were covered with a carpet of the richest turf. Here and there, a little rounded prominence, or gentle depression, heightened their charm, as a mole or a dimple may lend piquancy to the cheek of beauty. A delightful air of solitude reigned over this fairy dell, which well deserves its present designation of the Happy Valley. On the right of the combe, near a circular excavation filled with water for sheep, grew a grove of trees of considerable size, with a thicket beyond them. The sides of the down, which hemmed in the valley on the opposite side, were by no means so steep as those of the escarpment, and had a warm brown tint, being clothed with gorse and heather. Through the midst of the combe wound a road leading from Rottingdean to Lewes, and looking over the shoulder of the hill on the right, could be discerned the old church and clustered houses of the former place.
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144