jenny, crushed by millicent, crept into a corner of the parlour, from which she amused herself in the only way she could find—watching the family and their guest, lord wilmot. they sat in the bay window, conversing in low tones, a few words now and then reaching jenny in her corner, but only just enough to give her an idea that they were speaking of the young fugitive king, and of the sore straits to which he might be reduced. his stay at boscobel house, and his subsequent adventure in the oak, so well known in future years, were discussed at length, for it was only a few days since they had happened.
“what a mercy the leaves were on the trees!” said mrs lane.
“ay, in very deed,” replied the colonel. “had the boughs been bare, his majesty had been taken without fail.”
“i saw him two days gone,” added lord wilmot, “and a sorry sight he was: his dress a leather doublet, with pewter buttons; a pair of old green breeches and a coat of the same; his own stockings, the embroidered tops cut off; a pair of old shoes, too small for him, cut and slashed to give ease to his feet; an old, grey, greasy hat, without lining, and a noggen shirt of the coarsest linen.”
the word noggen originally meant made of hemp, and had come to signify any texture which was thick, rough, and clumsy.
“poor young gentleman!” exclaimed mrs lane.
“what a condition for the king of england!” said the colonel, indignantly.
“ay, truly,” answered lord wilmot. “the disgrace is england’s, not his own.”
mr lane was one of the party this evening. he was an elderly man, and an invalid, mostly keeping to his own quiet room. mrs lane, who was younger, and much more active, managed the house and estate with the help of her son; and the colonel having for some years been practically the master, was generally spoken of as such among the tenants. the old man now rose, and said that he would go back to his own chamber. the colonel gave his arm to his father to help him upstairs; and mrs jane, turning from the window, caught sight of jenny’s tired, dull look.
“come, we have had enough of talk!” said she. “sweep the rushes aside, and let us end the evening with a dance.”
“you were best to dance after supper,” responded her mother, glancing at the clock. “there is but a half-hour now.”
mrs jane assented to this, and going to the virginals, called jenny to come and sing. the half-hour passed rapidly, until the server, or waiter, came to say that supper was served in the hall, and the party sat down.
as jenny took her place, she saw robin featherstone making room at the lower table for a stranger—a young man, aged about two or three and twenty, dressed in a tidy suit of grey cloth, and apparently a new servant. his complexion was unusually dark, and his hair jet black. he was not handsome, and as jenny did not admire dark complexions, she mentally set him down as an uninteresting person—probably lord wilmot’s man.
the good-natured steward, on her right hand, noticed jenny’s look at the new comer.
“that is mrs jane’s new man,” said he kindly; “he goeth with you into somerset. my lord wilmot hath spoken for him to the colonel, and commends him highly, for a young man of exceeding good character.”
young men of good character were not attractive people to jenny; a young man with good looks would have had much more chance of her regard.
“his name is william jackson,” added the steward.
jenny was rather sorry to hear that this uninteresting youth would have to go with them to bristol; the rather, because it destroyed the last vestige of a faint hope she had entertained, that robin featherstone might be chosen for that purpose.
the worst of all her grievances was, that she seemed completely cut off from his delightful society. she had really seen far more of him at the farm than she did now, when she was living in the same house. and then to have all her rose-coloured visions for the future destroyed—jenny felt herself a badly used young woman.
supper ended, the dance followed according to mrs jane’s decree, led off by herself and lord wilmot; and jenny, to her great satisfaction, found herself the partner of the enchanting robin.
“mrs jenny, i have not had so much as a word with you since yestereven!” said that gentleman reproachfully.
“no, in very deed,” assented jenny; “and i hear you go not into somerset, mr featherstone.”
“no such luck!” lamented the valet. “i’m to be mewed up here. that black crow yonder will rob me of all your sweet smiles, my charmer.”
“indeed he won’t!” said jenny. “i don’t like the look of him, i can tell you.”
at that moment the new servant, and his partner, the dairy-maid, whisked round close beside them, and jenny saw, from the amused twinkle in his dark eyes, that jackson had overheard her disparaging remark.
“he looks as if he hadn’t washed himself this week,” observed mr featherstone, whose complexion was fair.
“he’s an ill-looking fellow,” replied jenny.
“do you hear what they say of you?” asked fortune, the dairy-maid, of her partner.
“i hear ’em,” was will jackson’s reply.
“won’t you knock him down?”
“i think not. wouldn’t be convenient to the colonel.”
“i doubt you’re chicken-hearted,” replied she.
“think so?” said will jackson, quite calmly.
“well, you’re a queer fellow!” said fortune.
“hold you there!” was the reply; “i shall be queerer anon.”
the monday was a very busy day, for mrs jane proposed to set forth with the lark on the tuesday morning. she had obtained a pass from the parliament for herself and friends, and four others were to accompany her; her cousin mr lascelles, and his wife, and a neighbouring lady and gentleman named petre. jenny was very busy all day packing trunks and bags under the instructions of her young mistress. in the afternoon, as they were thus employed, mrs lane came rather hastily into the room.
“jane, child,” she said to her daughter, “i am really concerned that you should have no better attendance in your journey than that fellow jackson. i do indeed think we must send him back, and get you a more suitable man.”
mrs jane was on her knees, packing a little leather trunk. she looked up for a moment, and then resumed her work, giving all her attention to a troublesome box, which would not fit into the space that she had left for it.
“is he unsuitable, madam? i pray you, how so?”
“child, the man doth not know his business. he is now in the yard, looking to your saddle and harness; and he doth not know how to take the collar off the horse. dick bade him lift the collar off bay winchester, and he was for taking it off without turning it. and really, some of his—”
the sentence was never finished.
“o, madam! o, mrs jane!” cried millicent, coming in with uplifted hands. “that horrid creature. i’m certain sure he’s a roundhead! robin has heard him speak such dreadful words! do, i beseech you, madam, tell the colonel that he is cherishing a crocodile in his bosom. we shall all be murdered in our beds before night!”
mrs jane sat back on the floor and laughed.
“ah, my dear young gentlewoman, you may laugh,” was the solemn comment of millicent; “but i do assure you ’tis no laughing matter. if mrs jane will not listen to reason, madam, i beg you to hear me when i tell you what i have heard.”
the solemnity of millicent’s tones was something awful. mrs jane, however, was so misguided as to laugh again; but her mother said, in a half-alarmed tone, “well, millicent, what is it? you speak of the new man, jackson, i suppose?”
“madam, robin tells me that early this morning, as soon as my lord wilmot was gone, he went down to the blacksmith’s with something of the colonel’s—a chain, i think he said, or was it—”
“never mind what it was,” said mrs jane; “let us have the story.”
“well, he was in the blacksmith’s shop, and to get out of the way of the blacks, which were flying all over, he had slipped behind the door; when who should come up but this jackson, on mrs jane’s horse, that had cast a shoe. he could not see robin, he being behind the door; i dare be bound if he had, he would not have been so free in his talk. you know, madam, what a horrid roundhead the blacksmith is; robin saith he wishes in his heart he never had to go near him. well, as this fellow holds the horse’s foot (and robin says he did it the most awkward he ever saw), he asks the smith what news. ‘oh,’ saith he, ‘none that i know of, since the good news of the beating of the rogues of scots.’ ‘what,’ saith jackson, ‘are none of the english taken that were joined with the scots?’ then, madam, the smith said, saving your presence, for really it makes me feel quite creepy to repeat such shocking words, ‘i don’t hear,’ quoth he, ‘that that rogue charles stuart is taken, but some of the others are.’ oh, madam, to speak so dreadfully of his sacred majesty!”
mrs millicent’s eyes went up till more white than iris was visible.
“very shocking, truly,” said mrs lane. “well, what further?”
“and then, madam, that jackson said—robin heard him!—‘if that rogue were taken,’ quoth he, ‘he deserves to be hanged more than all the rest, for bringing in the scots.’ oh, dear, dear! that i should live to tell you, madam, that a servant of my good master could let such words come out of his lips! then quoth the smith, ‘you speak like an honest man.’ and so jackson up on the horse and rode away.”
“well, it doth but confirm me in my view that the man is a most unsuitable guard for you, jane. i shall speak to your brother about making a change.”
“i don’t think jackson is a roundhead,” said mrs jane quietly, rearranging some laces in a little box.
“dear heart, mrs jane! but what could the creature have said worse, if he had been oliver cromwell himself?”
“well, and i do not think he is oliver cromwell either,” replied mrs jane, laughing. “and as to his not knowing his business, madam,” she added, turning to her mother, “i pray you remember how exceeding good a character my lord wilmot gave him.”
“my dear jane! a good character is all very well, but i do want some capability in my servants as well as character. you do not choose your shoemaker because he is sober and steady, but because he makes good shoes.”
“under your correction, madam, he would not make good shoes long if he were neither steady nor sober. howbeit, i pray you, speak to my brother: methinks you shall find him unready to discharge jackson for no better reason than that he cannot take the collar off an horse.”
“but the words, mrs jane! those awful words!”
“very like they grew in robin’s brain,” calmly answered mrs jane, turning the lock of her trunk. “he is a bit jealous of jackson, or i mistake.”
“jealous of that black creature!” cried millicent. “why, he could not hold a tallow candle to robin!”
“i dare say he won’t try,” replied mrs jane, with a little amusement in her voice.
mrs lane, who had left the room, returned looking somewhat discomfited.
“no, i cannot win your brother to see it,” she said, in rather a vexed tone. “he thinks so much, as you do, of the commendation my lord wilmot gave the young man. he saith he is sure he is not a roundhead (i marvel how he knows); and as for his inaptitude, he said the man hath not been before in service, and hath all to learn. if that be so, it cannot be helped, and you will have to be patient with him, jane.”
“i will be as patient as i can, madam,” said mrs jane gravely.
“oh, my dear mrs jane! oh, madam! how you can!” exclaimed millicent. “we shall all be murdered by morning, i feel certain of it! oh, dear, dear!”
“then you’d better make your will this evening,” coolly observed mrs jane. “look here, millicent, should you like these cherry ribbons? they would not go ill with your grey gown.”
millicent passed in a moment from the depths of despair to the heights of ecstasy.
“oh, how good of you, mrs jane! they are perfectly charming! i shall take the guarding off my grey gown to-morrow, and put them on.”
“if you survive,” said mrs jane solemnly.
millicent looked slightly disconcerted.
“well, mrs jane, i was going to tell you—but after what madam said—if the young man be respectable—i don’t know, really—this morning, as he was coming into the hall, i thought—i really thought he was going to offer to take me by the hand. it gave me such a turn!”
“i don’t see why, if he had washed his hands,” said mrs jane.
“oh, mrs jane! what things you do say!”
millicent had some excuse for her horror, since at that time shaking hands was a form of greeting only used between relatives or the most intimate friends. to give the hand to an inferior was the greatest possible favour.
“well,” said mrs jane, locking the second trunk, “i expect will jackson is a decent fellow, and will attend me very well. at any rate, i mean to try him.”
“well, mrs jane, i have warned you!”
“you have so, millicent. and if jackson murders me before i come home, i promise to agree with you. but i don’t believe he will.”
“well!” repeated millicent, “one thing is certain; the creature has surely never been in a gentleman’s service before. i expect he has followed the plough all his life. but i do hope, mrs jane, you may come back safe.”
“thank you, millicent; so do i,” answered mrs jane.
the friends who were to accompany mrs jane arrived at bentley hall on the monday evening, and the party set out, eight in all, a little after five o’clock on the tuesday morning. mrs lascelles and mrs petre rode behind their husbands; mrs jane behind her new man, jackson. for jenny an escort was provided in the shape of mr lascelles’ servant, a sober-looking man of about forty years, whom she thought most uninteresting. so they rode away from bentley hall, robin featherstone kissing his hand to jenny, and making her a very elaborate bow in the background.
the first day’s journey brought them to the house of mr norton, a relative of the lanes.
“remember, jackson,” said mrs jane as she alighted, “i shall want my palfrey by six to-morrow morning at the latest.”
jackson touched his hat, and promised obedience. mr norton led mrs jane into the house, desiring his butler, whose name was pope, to look to her man, and to put jenny in the care of mrs norton’s maid. jenny, being unused to ride much on horseback, was sadly tired by her day’s journey, and very glad when bed-time came. she made one nap of her night’s rest, and was not very readily roused when, before it was fully light, a tap came on mrs jane’s door.
mrs jane sat up in bed, awake at once.
“who is there? come within,” she said.
the answer was the entrance of ellice, mrs norton’s maid.
“i crave pardon for disturbing you thus early, madam, but my mistress hath sent me to say your man is took very sick of an ague, and ’twill not be possible for you to continue your journey to-day.”
“how? was ever anything so unfortunate!” cried mrs jane. “is he really very bad?”
“my master thinks, madam, he is not the least fit for a journey.”
mrs jane lay down again, with an exclamation of dismay.
“i do hope the young man is not weakly,” she said. “’tis most annoying. i reckoned, entirely, on continuing my journey to-day. well, there is no help, i suppose, though this news is welcome but as water into a ship. we must make a virtue of necessity. come, jenny, we’ll take another nap. may as well have what comfort we can.”
and, turning round, mrs jane went off to sleep again.
for three days mr norton reported jackson quite too poorly to ride; on the fourth he was a little better, and by the evening of the following sunday it was thought mrs jane might venture to resume her journey the next day.
they were up early the next morning, and as jenny followed her mistress into the hall, mrs norton being with them, pope and jackson came in from the opposite door. jackson at once came forward to meet them, and for an instant jenny was reminded of millicent’s complaint, for he seemed just on the point of shaking hands with the ladies. suddenly he drew back, took off his hat, and with a low bow informed mrs jane that he was ready to do her service.
the departure was fixed to take place after dinner; but before that meal was served, mrs norton was seized with sudden and serious illness. mrs jane showed great concern for her cousin, seeming to jenny’s eyes much more distressed than she had been for the previous postponement of her journey. while everything was in confusion, a cavalcade of visitors unexpectedly arrived, and made the confusion still greater. mrs jane arranged to stay for some days longer, and act as hostess in mrs norton’s place.
as the party sat that night at supper, a traveller’s horn sounded at the gate, and pope, having gone to receive the new arrival, returned with a letter, which he gave to mrs jane.
“dear heart!” she exclaimed in surprise, “what have we now here? this is from my mother.”
“pray you open it quickly, cousin,” replied mr norton. “i trust it is no ill news.”
mrs jane’s reply was to bury her face in her handkerchief. she seemed scarcely able to speak; but mr norton, to whom she passed the letter, informed the company that it contained very sad news from bentley hall. mr lane had become so much worse during the week of his daughter’s absence, that her mother desired her to return as soon as she had paid a hurried visit to her cousins in somersetshire.
“i fear, cousin, we must not keep you with us longer,” said mr norton, kindly to jane.
mrs jane was understood to sob that she must go on the next morning. too much overcome to remain, she left the hall, and went up to the chamber of mrs norton, still with her handkerchief at her eyes. jenny followed her, going into her bedroom, which was near to that of the hostess. she heard voices through the wall, accompanied by sounds which rather puzzled her. was mrs jane weeping? it sounded much more like laughing. but how could anyone expect so devoted a daughter to have the heart to laugh on this sad occasion?
when mrs jane came out of her cousin’s room, she was apparently calm and comforted. the handkerchief had disappeared; but considering the bitter sobs she had heard, jenny wondered that her eyes were not redder.
the journey was resumed, and they arrived safely at trent hall, the residence of colonel wyndham, who was strolling about his grounds, and met them as they came up to the house. mrs jane having alighted and shaken hands with her cousin the colonel, it astonished jenny to see will jackson go familiarly up as if to offer the same greeting. remembering himself in an instant, he slunk back as he had done before, and took off his hat with a low bow. colonel wyndham, jenny thought, looked rather offended at jackson’s bad manners, dismissing him by a nod, and calling one of his stable-men to see to him, while he took mrs jane into the house. jenny felt once again that millicent must have guessed rightly, and that jackson had never been in service in a gentleman’s family before.
