The Man in Black: An Historical Novel of the Days of Queen Anne

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER X.

  The two horsemen rode on their way. Neither spoke for several minutes.Sir Philip Hastings pondering sternly on all that had passed, and hisyounger companion gazing upon the scene around flooded with thedelicious rays of sunset, as if nothing had passed at all.

  Sir Philip, as I have shown the reader, had a habit of brooding overany thing which excited much interest in his breast--nay more, ofextracting from it, by a curious sort of alchemy, essence verydifferent from its apparent nature, sometimes bright, fine, andbeneficial, and others dark and maleficent. The whole of thetransaction just past disturbed him much; it puzzled him; it set hisimagination running upon a thousand tracks, and most of them wrongones; and thought was not willing to be called from her vagaries todeal with any other subject than that which preoccupied her.

  The young stranger, on the other hand, seemed one of those characterswhich take all things much more lightly. In the moment of action, hehad shown skill, resolution, and energy enough, but as he sat there onhis horse's back, looking round at every point of any interest to anadmirer of nature with an easy, calm and unconcerned air, no one whosaw him could have conceived that he had been engaged the momentbefore in so fierce though short a struggle. There was none of theheat of the combatant or the triumph of the victor in his air orcountenance, and his placid and equable expression of face contrastedstrongly with the cloud which sat upon the brow of his companion.

  "I beg your pardon, sir, for my gloomy silence," said Sir PhilipHastings, at length, conscious that his demeanor was not verycourteous, "but this affair troubles me. Besides certain relationswhich it bears to matters of private concernment, I am not satisfiedas to how I should deal with the ruffian we have suffered to depart soeasily. His assault upon myself I do not choose to treat harshly; butthe man is a terror to the country round, committing many an act towhich the law awards a very insufficient punishment, but with cunningsufficient to keep within that line, the passage beyond which wouldenable society to purge itself of such a stain upon it; how to dealwith him, I say, embarrasses me greatly. I have committed him two orthree times to prison already; and I am inclined to regret that I didnot, on this occasion, when he was in the very act of breaking thelaw, send my sword through him, and I should have been well justifiedin doing so."

  "Nay, sir, methinks that would have been too much," replied hiscompanion; "he has had a fall, which, if I judge rightly, will be asufficient punishment for his assault upon you. According to the very_lex talionis_, he has had what he deserves. If he has nearly brokeyour arm, I think I have nearly broken his back."

  "It is not his punishment for any offence to myself, sir, I seek,"replied the baronet; "it is a duty to society to free it from the loadof such a man whenever he himself affords the opportunity of doing so.Herein the law would have justified me, but even had it not been so, Ican conceive many cases where it may be necessary for the benefit ofour country and society to go beyond what the law will justify, and tomake the law for the necessity."

  "Brutus, and a few of his friends, did so," replied the young strangerwith a smile, "and we admire them very much for so doing, but I amafraid we should hang them, nevertheless, if they were in a positionto try the thing over again. The illustration of the gibbet and thestatue might have more applications than one, for I sincerely believe,if we could revive historical characters, we should almost in allcases erect a gallows for those to whom we now raise a monument."

  Sir Philip Hastings turned and looked at him attentively, and saw hisface was gay and smiling. "You take all these things very lightlysir," he said.

  "With a safe lightness," replied the stranger.

  "Nay, with something more," rejoined his companion; "in your shortstruggle with that ruffian, you sprang upon him, and overthrew himlike a lion, with a fierce activity which I can hardly imagine reallycalmed down so soon."

  "O yes it is, my dear sir," replied the stranger, "I am somewhat of astoic in all things. It is not necessary that rapidity of thought andaction, in a moment of emergency, should go one line beyond theoccasion, or sink one line deeper than the mere reason. The man whosuffers his heart to be fluttered, or his passions to be roused, byany just action he is called upon to do, is not a philosopher.Understand me, however; I do not at all pretend to be quite perfect inmy philosophy; but, at all events, I trust I schooled myself wellenough not to suffer a wrestling match with a contemptible animal likethat, to make my pulse beat a stroke quicker after the momentaryeffort is over."

  Sir Philip Hastings was charmed with the reply; for though it was aview of philosophy which he could not and did not follow, however muchhe might agree to it, yet the course of reasoning and the sources ofargument were so much akin to those he usually sought, that he fanciedhe had at length found a man quite after his own heart. He chose toexpress no farther opinion upon the subject, however, till he had seenmore of his young companion; but that more he determined to see. Inthe mean time he easily changed the conversation, saying, "You seemedto be a very skilful and practised wrestler, sir."

  "I was brought up in Cornwall," replied the other, "though not aCornish man, and having no affinity even with the Terse and theTees--an Anglo Saxon, I am proud to believe, for I look upon that raceas the greatest which the world has yet produced."

  "What, superior to the Roman?" asked Sir Philip.

  "Ay, even so," answered the stranger, "with as much energy, as muchresolution, less mobility, more perseverance, with many a qualitywhich the Roman did not possess. The Romans have left us many a finelesson which we are capable of practising as well as they, while wecan add much of which they had no notion."

  "I should like much to discuss the subject with you more at large,"said Sir Philip Hastings, in reply; "but I know not whether we havetime sufficient to render it worth while to begin."

  "I really hardly know, either," answered the young stranger; "for, inthe first place, I am unacquainted with the country, and in the nextplace, I know not how far you are going. My course tends towards asmall town called Hartwell--or, as I suspect it ought to be Hartswell,probably from some fountain a which hart and hind used to come anddrink."

  "I am going a little beyond it," replied Sir Philip Hastings, "so thatour journey will be for the next ten miles together;" and with thisgood space of time before him, the baronet endeavored to bring hisyoung companion back to the subject which had been started, a veryfavorite one with him at all times.

  But the stranger seemed to have his hobbies as well as Sir Philip, andhaving dashed into etymology in regard to Hartwell, he pursued it withan avidity which excluded all other topics.

  "I believe," he said, not in the least noticing Sir Philip'sdissertation on Roman virtues--"my own belief is, that there is not aproper name in England, except a few intruded upon us by the Normans,which might not easily be traced to accidental circumstances in thehistory of the family or the place. Thus, in the case of Aylesbury, orEaglestown, from which it is derived, depend upon it the place hasbeen noted as a resort for eagles in old times, coming thitherprobably for the ducks peculiar to that place. Bristol, in AngloSaxon, meaning the place of a bridge, is very easily traceable; andCosta, or Costaford, meaning in Anglo Saxon the tempter's ford,evidently derives its name from monk or maiden having met the enemy ofman or womankind at that place, and having had cause to rue theencounter. All the Hams, all the Tons, and all the Sons, lead us atonce to the origin of the name, to say nothing of all the points ofthe compass, all the colors of the rainbow, and every trade that theingenuity of man has contrived to invent."

  In vain Sir Philip Hastings for the next half hour endeavored to bringhim back to what he considered more important questions. He hadevidently had enough of the Romans for the time being, and indulgedhimself in a thousand fanciful speculations upon every other subjectbut that, till Sir Philip, who at one time had rated his intellectvery highly, began to think him little better than a fool. Suddenly,however, as if from a sense of courtesy rather than inclination, theyoung man let his older companion
have his way in the choice ofsubject, and in his replies showed such depth of thought, such athorough acquaintance with history, and such precise and definiteviews, that once more the baronet changed his opinion, and said tohimself, "This is a fine and noble intellect indeed, nearly spoiled bythe infection of a corrupt and frivolous world, but which might bereclaimed, if fortune would throw him in the way of those whoseprinciples have been fixed and tried."

  He pondered upon the matter for some short time. It was now completelydark, and the town to which the stranger was going distant not aquarter of a mile. The little stars were looking out in the heavens,peering at man's actions like bright-eyed spies at night; but the moonhad not risen, and the only light upon the path was reflected from theflashing, dancing stream that ran along beside the road, seeming togather up all the strong rays from the air, and give them back againwith interest.

  "You are coming very near Hartwell," said Sir Philip, at length; "butit is somewhat difficult to find from this road, and being, but littleout of my way, I will accompany you thither, and follow the high roadonwards."

  The stranger was about to express his thanks, but the Baronet stoppedhim, saying, "Not in the least, my young friend. I am pleased withyour conversation, and should be glad to cultivate your acquaintanceif opportunity should serve. I am called Sir Philip Hastings, andshall be glad to see you at any time, if you are passing near myhouse."

  "I shall certainly wait upon you, Sir Philip, if I stay any time inthis county," replied the other. "That, however, is uncertain, for Icome here merely on a matter of business, which may be settled in afew hours--indeed it ought to be so, for it seems to me very simple.However, it may detain me much longer, and then I shall not fail totake advantage of your kind permission."

  He spoke gravely, and little more was said till they entered the smalltown of Hartwell, about half through which a large gibbet-like bar wasseen projecting from the front of a house, suspending a large board,upon which was painted a star. The light shining from the windows ofan opposite house fell upon the symbol, and the stranger, drawing inhis rein, said, "Here is my inn, and I will now wish you good night,with many thanks, Sir Philip."

  "Methinks it is I should thank you," replied the Baronet, "both for apleasant journey, and for the punishment you inflicted on the ruffianCutter."

  "As for the first," said the stranger, "that has been more thanrepaid, if indeed it deserved thanks at all; and as for the other,that was a pleasure in itself. There is a great satisfaction to me inbreaking down the self-confidence of one of these burly bruisers."

  As he spoke, he dismounted, again wishing Sir Philip good night, andthe latter rode on upon his way. His meditations, as he went, werealtogether upon the subject of the young stranger; for, as I haveshown, Sir Philip rarely suffered two ideas to get any strong grasp ofhis mind at the same time. He revolved, and weighed, and dissectedevery thing the young man had said, and the conclusion that he came towas even more favorable than at first. He seemed a man after his ownheart, with just sufficient differences of opinion and diversities ofcharacter to make the Baronet feel a hankering for some opportunity ofmoulding and modelling him to his own standard of perfection. Who hecould be, he could not by any means divine. That he was a gentleman inmanners and character, there could be no doubt. That he was not rich,Sir Philip argued from the fact of his not having chosen the best innin the little town, and he might also conclude that he was of no verydistinguished family, as he had not thought fit to mention his ownname in return for the Baronet's frank invitation.

  Busy with these thoughts Sir Philip rode on but slowly, and tooknearly half an hour to reach the gates of Mrs. Hazleton's park, thoughthey stood only two miles' distance from the town. He arrived beforethem at length, however, and rang the bell. The lodge-keeper openedthem but slowly, and putting his horse to a quicker pace, Sir Philiptrotted up the avenue towards the house. He had not reached it,however, when he heard the sound of horses feet behind him, and, as hewas dismounting at the door, his companion of the way rode quickly upand sprang to the ground, saying, with a laugh--

  "I find, Sir Philip, that we are both to enjoy the same quartersto-night, for, on my arrival at Hartwell, I did not expect to visitthis house till to-morrow morning. Mrs. Hazleton, however, has verykindly had my baggage brought up from the inn, and therefore I have nochoice but to intrude upon her to-night."

  As he spoke the doors of the house were thrown open, servants cameforth to take the horses, and the two gentlemen were ushered at onceinto Mrs. Hazleton's receiving-room.