Misrepresentation; a novel

Chapter I

Horatio — or I do forget myself. Shakespeare. THE afternoon was as cold as any lover of what are affectionately called, ' real old-fashioned English winters/ could desire : a tingling, uncompromising frost, beloved of skaters and brisk pedestrians, had prevailed for some weeks ; beautiful to look at, as far as landscape was concerned, when the short, struggling sunbeams lit up the white branches as with a myriad lamps, and made every spider's web an ornament for royalty ; but sharp and searching to every other sense. It was a kind of cold such as we ignorant Londoners can only read or hear of. We know what a long frost means, and what it looks like ; the phase in domestic history when pipes burst, and coals rise, and the gamins make slides under the very eye of the policeman, and the parks are full of skaters, and the song of the frozen out gardener is warbled in the public ear.

We under stand all this, and think, when we read of Russia and the Arctic Regions, that from our own experience we can tell how disagreeable a constant hard season must be. But what is all this to the cold in the country, in such a corner of our island as we are about to visit — VOL. I. B MISREPRESENTATION. nearer north than south, and east than west — where no friendly opposite row stands between your windows and the cutting blast, which comes unchecked direct upon your homestead, from wild moors far away, like a charge of savage cavalry — flinging a carbine volley of snow and hail against door and window-pane — bursting in wherever a crack or crevice has been left unguarded, and threatening, in its exulting rage, to strip roof and wall of every defence, and scatter you and yours like the last dead leaves whirled from the trees ? — a cold that no roasting fire can warm through an inch beyond the bars, that freezes the water in your bed-room, and the panes in your window, and the very hair of your head, to say nothing of the ideas within, which lie ice bound like the tunes in Baron Munchausen's horn ?

Cold ? yes, this is cold indeed, and if you cannot live through it, so much the worse for you ; if you can live and get warm in spite of everything, why then it is the finest thing for your health you can conceive, an air bath, a tonic, que sais-je ? It had need be something good, so we may give it the credit of whatever it pleases, and hope that somebody is the better for it. Armed with some such consolatory philosophy, a traveller had been braving his difficulties on the February afternoon in question ; pursuing his way tolerably well so long as the iron civilizer connected him with London — rather worse on the top of a cross country coach, full of crosser-country passengers, to the town of Shareham, which no railway went near ; and worst of all, in his attempt to get himself and his port manteau five miles further through the snow, to the village of Cannymoor.

The good people of Shareham had done their best to persuade him from the latter MISREPRESENTATION. 3 undertaking, assuring him the snow lay fifteen feet deep, that no horse that ever ate hay could pull him through it, that on Monday last a butcher's lad had been nigh upon smothered, and three old women had not been heard of since Tuesday, and so on ; but to no purpose. The traveller had gone through too many worse trials to be baffled by such trifles as these ; his money and pertinacity, as usual, carried the day, and a tax-cart from the inn undertook to carry himself. Over the bleak moor that lay between the town and the village, the sturdy horse toiled and strained for three miles and a half without flinching ; at that point, the snow had so bailed in his feet, that before the driver could jump out to relieve him, he slipped — fell, and could with difficulty be lifted again, both knees cut, and shaking all over.

The wise men of Shareham had not been so far wrong, and the traveller for a moment repented. ' How much further is it, my man ?' he asked, looking discontentedly along the dreary expanse. ' Better nor a mile/ was the answer, hardly audible behind the thick coat collar and comforter. ' Better nor a mile ? so long as it is better I have no objection, but if it be two, I can walk as far. Bring on the horse as best you can ; you can put him up in the village, I suppose. There is an inn of some kind, is there not ?' ' Oh, ah, there's a place they call an inn, and a stable too, that a dog would turn up his nose at. They feeds their beasts on cabbage-stalks and 'tatoe-parings down there.' ' Oh indeed ! and what do their visitors get?' ' Oo, but that'll depend/ said the driver, still busy b2 MISREPRESENTATION. with his horse's legs; 'steady, lad !— they don't see so many in the course of the year, I fancy, sir, that they can afford not to make much on 'em.' ' Is it so very retired, then ?' 'It's just out o' the way of everything, that's what it is, sir : and it is just as well ; for if it was in the way, it would do nobody any good that I know of.' ' You seem to owe it a grudge/ said the traveller, as he walked along by the side of the vehicle. ' Well, sir, and I'll tell you why.

Maybe you never saw these parts before, so you won't understand unless I do tell you. When I was a lad here, Cannymoor was just a bit of a village, and a rare place for sport ; the Squire as lived at the Manorhouse then, kept nought but sporting company, and a jolly lot they were. Maybe, they were a bit too jolly to last ; any way, he spent all his money, and then he sold the land, one bit after another, and one wiseacre came down from London with a great scheme for a railway across country, just as if one hadn't enough of them lines, taking the bread out of people's mouths; and the line was to make Cannymoor a big place, and he must needs cut up the old grounds into building lots, and run up what he called genteel cottages ; and then some of the Shareham folks, who didn't know when they were well off, must needs go and live in them.

However, it didn't pay, and the party was ruined out and out, and serve him right.' fBut is there no gentleman's family residing at Cannymoor now ?' 'Ay, ay— there's them in the Manorhouse, and there's the parson, and there's one or two more decent people enough.' ' But you said the Squire had sold the property.' MISREPRESENTATION. 5 ' So he did, and a cousin of his bought the house, and lives there, and— but maybe it's there you're going, sir?' ' No, my friend, I am bound for the parsonage.' ' Oh, then you're all right. He is a right good 'un, he is : he'll make you comfortable ; but there are some on 'em there that is precious close, for sartin ! But I beg your pardon, sir, for talking so much.' ' By no means, my friend — who did you say bought up the estate you spoke of?' ' Why, sir, the best part of it, all the houses and so forth, were picked up, he best knows how, by a sharp old gentleman, living there now, a Mr. Spindler, and I've heard say, he did mean to get the Manorhouse too, and be Squire, and landlord, and master, and everything.

But Mr. Lyndon, the present one, that is, was too quick for him, and got it first. So one has got all the money, and the other has got the name of the thing : it's not much money Mr. Lyndon has, but no one thinks the worse of him for that ; and he's worth a dozen like old Spindler, that he is.' ' Has Mr. Lyndon any family ?' ' Oh, there's his lady, poor old body, whose head's a bit touched — and it warn't over and above valuable afore : and two ladies — and there's — woa ! hold up !' as his horse slipped again, and was only just saved by a dexterous jerk from being down. ' You'd best step on, sir, begging your pardon, or you'll be froze outright. It's straight ahead, sir — you can't miss it.' The traveller hesitated a moment, and a shade of impatience passed over his brown features ; but after a brief pause, took the advice of his loquacious charioteer, and set off at a rapid pace.

When he was some dis- MISREPRESENTATION. tance from his companion, he stopped short, drew hia breath once or twice heavily and slowly, and pressed his clenched hand upon his heart, as if to still its painful throbs. This only lasted a moment ; by a quick effort which only long practice could have made so successful, he flung off the emotion, whatever it was, that had oppressed his spirits, and walked on with a quick and elastic step. The exercise quickened his blood after the severe cold and exposure of the latter part of his journey ; and hi« quick eye took in, almost uncon sciously, every feature of the landscape, as if it were collecting materials for a journal; the general im pression on his mind being, that somewhere about here the world might be expected to leave off. It was almost cheering to look back at the tax-cart and horse, creeping along the track he had made ; and to hear the jingle of the harness, and the encouraging interjections of the driver, every now and then brought near by the gusty wind — and feel that something living was within hail.

A question rose to his lips, which, though unspoken, took very much the form of that asked of old- Is this the region, this the place, the clime, Which thou must change — and hast changed long ago— for such a lot and such a home as once were thine? But this he silenced as he had before, and only strode on the faster ; and as no one can go on for ever, in due time he found himself in a more habitable region : a small farm-house or two— then a few white genteel cottages with flower-gardens — then a village street, with cottages very far from genteel — a church, with a low square tower, pretending to no beauty of any kind, and rather out of repair, and a MISREPRESENTATION. 7 homely churchyard full of snow, except on one brown hillock, raised since it fell. Here the traveller began to look about him.

Where the church was the parson might be expected ; and yet the venerable parsonage he saw in his mind's eye was certainly not discernible by those of his body. Shouts of boyish voices behind the church showing that life existed somewhere, he followed the sounds in hopes of information, and found himself spectator of a vigorous display of snowballing. The chilly missiles flew so fast, and the boys ran about so confusedly, the traveller could not at first make out the plan of the proceeding. When he did, his amusement changed into wrath. Half-a dozen sturdy lads were pelting a little fellow, much better dressed than any of them, and much younger — pelting him as hard and fast as their hands could ply; and he, undaunted by numbers, flushed, panting, struggling, was dodging their shot, returning it, displaying courage and energy enough to deserve a medal ; and at the same time, with good generalship, gradually working a retreat towards the nearest gate.

Whether he would ever have reached it unaided, historians will find difficult to decide. The traveller did not wait to discover, but darting into the midst of the fray, tripped up one assailant, and rolled another over, at the same moment that the gate was thrown open by a rosy girl of thirteen, who called out, ' Walter, Walter ! run in V Walter moved to the refuge with his face to the foe ; a big boy rushed after him, snatched at his collar, and pulled him down. The next minute he was pulled down himself and half buried in the snow, while the traveller had set the little Hector on his legs. Simul taneously with this last coup de main, a short, stout old MISREPRESENTATION. gentleman in black rushed out of the gate, and flung his oaken stick at the heads of the public generally, with such hearty good will and dexterity, that the field was cleared in an instant of all but the last-mentioned great fellow, thrown down by the traveller.

He had now picked himself up, and stood looking sullen and dubious. ' You are a pretty set of rascals, are not you ?' roared the stout old gentleman; ' and you, Stephen, that ought to know better, a great strong chap like you to bully a little fellow, and a gentleman's son ! If Mr. Lyndon hears of this, your father will hear of it, I can tell you that.' ' Father won't care if he do/ was the answer ; ' we arn't Mr. Lyndon's tenants, and we don't care that for he !' ' But what did you set on this young gentleman for ? Tell me that — and just pick up my stick meanwhile, as I may want it to thrash you with presently.' The lad's sulky face relaxed a little ; he moved to where the stick had fallen, and brought it to the old gentleman, with a touch of his cap. ' It warn't only me, and we didn't go for to hurt him —but—' 'They are a pack of ignorant ninnies !' interrupted Walter, in great wrath ; ' they wouldn't believe what I said, and they said impertinent things of me and mamma ; and Stephen is a great big bully, with no more sense than a cow, and I told him so, and I tell him so again ; and as he doesn't believe I speak the truth, as soon as I am a strong tall man, I'll fight him, and beat him too — that I will !' Stephen muttered something about that being easier MISREPRESENTATION. 9 said than done, which seemed probable, but irritated Walter still more. ' Go home, lad/ said the old gentleman, shaking his stick ; ' this does you no credit.

You ought to be at work, as I told your father yesterday, instead of wasting your time like this. Off with you — come !' and begin ning to twirl his stick as if for another fling, Stephen took to his heels with some precipitation. The old gentleman laughed, and turning to Walter, now first noticed the stranger, and stood looking at him in perplexed surprise. ' I am sure I know that face, or ought to know it/ said he, as if thinking aloud. ' If you do not, Dr. Home, I cannot blame you/ said the traveller ; ' many years have passed since I was your private pupil, and helped you thrash two footpads on the way to Wychersley. You have the same pacific spirit as ever, I see.' ' Now I know that voice, and that sarcastic tone, and all but the bronzed face and mustachios. The Wy chersley footpads ?

There was only one lad with me then, and he was a slight, fresh-looking fellow when I saw him last —you would make two of him.' ' Time and travel, my dear sir, do wonders. You forget how long it is ago. The slight, fresh-looking, and provoking pupil who tried your patience so often, stands before you now, in hopes of trying it a little more, if you will own him.' ' Then it is the same ; I know the look of your eye now, and right glad I am, and a hundred thousand welcomes, Maurice Gray ! Why, where in the world have you dropped from ? It is years since I heard of, or saw you. Ay, ay, I recognise your touch now, in the way you tripped up those lads : that was the MISREPRESENTATION. Wychersley style all the world over. I am so glad to see you, Maurice. I can't tell you how glad I am.' If his tongue could not tell, his hands did their best, for they were grasping those of his guest with the energy and vigour of twenty-five. ' In with you, Walter ; there is Sophy catching her death of cold waiting for you.

Come in, Maurice Gray, come in ! the best of my house shall be yours, and a hearty welcome. How good of you to come so far to see an old friend ! And where have you been all this while ? Come along in, and let us understand all about it ; for what with one thing, and what with another, I am beginning not to know what I am about.' The traveller gladly obeyed : a quick glance round as he entered was sufficient to show him how very small were the parsonage accommodations : it stood in a little garden, without stable or any signs of rural luxury; and directly the threshold was crossed, the vicinity of the kitchen became palpably discernible. There was a good fire, however, in the one parlour, and though small and low, it was tidy, and smelt of nothing worse than old books. ' These are our quarters, Sophy's and mine, Maurice ; and such as they are, the longer you share them the better.

You don't know my grand-daughter, do you ? Shake hands with Mr. Gray, Sophy, and tell him you will do your best to tease him as much as he used to tease me." ' That, I fear, is impossible/ said the traveller, as he returned Sophy's shy, but not ungratified greeting; ' but with my old name, Doctor, I hope I have laid aside some of my old errors. On my uncle Randolph's death, I inherited his name as well as his fortune.' MISREPRESENTATION. 11 ' Ay, ay ! then he did you justice at last ? I am right glad to hear it, lad. And you are a man of property, then, are you? It is in good hands, I warrant. And I must call you Randolph, must I ? Well, I have no objection ; I am glad he righted you before he died. Ay, things look rather different close to the grave to what they do a mile off; men learn more there in minutes than they do in years elsewhere.

But what am I thinking of — your luggage, where is it ?' Mr. Randolph explained, upon which out ran his eager host, shouting, ' Colly, Colly !' and at his voice appeared from the neighbouring kitchen, savouring strongly of broth, a long, bony figure, with high cheek bones, and dark bushy brows, and bare arms, all muscle and sinew, who dropped a curtsey, as she wiped her hands on her apron. ' Colly, woman, be alive now ; here is a friend of mine come to stay with me, and his luggage is in a cart, and the cart in the snow, and the horse lame, Colly, and your friend Bob leading it. Send some one to help, quick ; and, Colly/ following her as she moved away, ' get the spare room ready' (they boasted a spare room, some eleven feet square), ' and the fire lit, and toss up something hot and good as soon as you can ; I'll come and get out a bottle of port ; Sophy will help you directly with sheets and all that.

An old friend and pupil, Colly; so we must make him welcome ; bustle about, that's a good little woman.' The good little woman, whose length appeared pain fully disproportioned to the size of the house, looked at Mr. Randolph for a minute or so from head to foot, smoothed her apron deliberately, nodded her head with a smile, and with a half-audible ' We'll see/ vanished MISREPRESENTATION. as promptly as she had come. The old clergyman rubbed his hands. ' There ! Colly has undertaken it all ; now you are all right. There is not such another little woman as Colly, sir, take her for all in all, not in all Queen Vic toria's dominions. There is nothing she cannot do, or will not do, for those she loves. You would not suppose it, perhaps, but Colly has the tenderest feelings, the softest heart. She got the name of Colly from a wild young pupil of mine, who said she made such a capital shepherd'sdog, and so she does.

Ah ! those pupils, what a life I have had with them ! but not one has had the kindness to do as you have done, Maurice, and come after so many years to see the old man before he died. I thank thee, lad, I do, from the bottom of my heart !' Randolph mechanically returned the pressure of his old friend's cordial hand, but it must be confessed he had paid little attention to his words. Ever since their entrance, he had been unable to take his eyes off little Walter, as he stood warming his numbed fingers at the fire, and arguing in a low tone with Sophy, who, while she secretly admired him as a prodigy of cleverness, felt it her duty, as his senior, to dispute all the proposi tions he somewhat dogmatically laid down for her belief. The traveller looked, and looked again ; for those eyes, full, dark, and beaming, the peculiar shape of the lid, and deep fringe of the lash, were as familiar to his memory as the home of his childhood ; and as he looked, his heart grew sick within him. 'Fool that I am!' he thought, 'and worse than fool !

In everything I meet I imagine I see what I crave, and every black-eyed urchin must needs remind MISREPRESENTATION. me— as if there were no dark eyes belonging to any one else in the world, or as if it would do me any earthly good to see them !' He turned away with an effort, to heed, as he should have done sooner, his old friend's hospitable arrange ments and suggestions. ' Doctor, once for all, if I am to put you or your family to the slightest inconvenience, out of your house I tramp without more ado. I am an old traveller — have been all over the world ; you cannot exhaust my resources. I can find bed and board where another would go sleepless and supperless ; a hammock, a sheepskin, or a cupboard, is bedroom enough for me, and I defy you to name the dish I have not found palatable.' Walter's dark eyes turned eagerly on the tra veller. ' Oh ! have you really been all over the world ?

Will you tell me all about it ? I do so love to hear about travels, and so does mamma, and she was only wishing the other day I could see somebody who could tell me all about the Geysers that Mackenzie saw in Winter Evenings. Bid you ever see a Geyser V 'Yes.' ' Oh ! did you really, now ! And will you tell mamma and me all about it ?' ' Who is your mamma ?' asked Randolph, with a smile, though his lip trembled. ' Who is mf mamma ? Why, Lady Adelaide Lyndon, to be sure !' said Walter, in a tone that plainly asked, ' Where have you lived not to know that ?' Rather to his discomfiture, the stranger laid one hand on his shoulder, and with the other put back the MISREPRESENTATION. tangled hair from his forehead, to inspect his features more closely. He would fain have slipped away, but besides the steady grasp of the strong hand, something in the traveller's sunburnt face attracted him ; and he stood patiently, blushing even above the glow of the frost and the fire. ' Have you ever travelled, my pretty boy ?' asked Mr. Randolph. ' Yes, sir, but please don't call me a pretty boy, as if I was a baby.' 'I beg your pardon, Mr. Walter Lyndon.

Where have you travelled, may I ask ?' ' Why, in India, of course ; and I came over with mamma and Brown John, all round the Cape.' ' And who is Brown John ?' ' Oh ! don't you know ? He was poor papa's native servant — so clever, and so funny. He knew such odd tricks, and frightened silly people out of their wits, you know, i" was never frightened, but the people here were. He had a little cottage here all to himself; and we were so fond of Brown John, were we not, Sophy?' ' Very,' Sophy assented : but owned also, that he frightened her at first with his strange tricks, and Colly had told her several of the people thought him a magician. ' Poor old John !' said Dr. Home ; ' he was a fine Oriental specimen, Maurice, and died, I trust, a sincere Christian ; but his dark skin and sleight-of-hand were too much for some of our rustics, and now the poor faithful fellow is dead, they will not pass his grave by night if they can help it.

I do believe they looked upon him as a Doctor Faustus at least, if not worse. I convinced some of the more sensible ones of their MISREPRESENTATION. 15 folly, but I am ashamed to own, all my wisdom has failed with others. The march of education is but a one-legged affair down here, Maurice. I assure you they didn't half like the poor native being such a favourite with his mistress, and this youngster being allowed to play with him. I had the greatest respect for Brown John ; he showed great courage and fidelity to his master and mistress in India, and I was very fond of making him talk, when he would, of his perils and escapes. Ah ! Walter, how he used to speak of your mamma !' ' I should think so/ said the boy ; ' and that is why some people could not bear him. Nothing makes somebody more cross than to be asked about the brave way mamma behaved in India, and all that : and don't I take care to bring it in somehow when anybody is by !' 'You are a very saucy lad/ said Dr. Home, 'and it is high time you went to school.

Meanwhile, you must run home, or your mamma will be uneasy ; and she has had quite enough anxiety in her life already, without giving her any more.' ' Oh, do let Colly see him safe home !' cried Sophy, to Walter's intense indignation. He require anybody to take care of him, indeed ! what next ? He thought Sophy had more sense, but women were all alike, except his mamma. ' Let him go/ said the old rector ; ' I'll be bound no one touches him any more. But hark ye, my fine fellow, don't go playing with those lads again ; they are not fit comrades for you.' ' I don't want to play with them, not 1/ said Walter ; ' I was walking with Bob Grayling, and I asked him if MISREPRESENTATION. he knew anything about ice and snow — how they come, you know, and all that ; and he did'nt/ continued the young philosopher, buttoning his coat with an air of pitying superiority. ' And as you did, sir, I suppose you explained it to him?' ' Well, I began ; but people are so stupid, there is no doing anything with them, and he declared that I did not know what I was talking about, and it was just like a pastrycook to know how to make ice — so like him !

He is always thinking of eating and stuffing : and 7 know what happened to him on Christmas -day, when he had three — ' ' There, never mind Bob Grayling's little weaknesses ; tell us what that had to do with your snow-balling.' ' Why, Doctor Home,just as I was repeating to him, as plainly as I could, all about it — and how mamma her self had helped to make ice with an air-pump — don't you remember her telling us, Sophy, how she burnt her dress with the acid ? — just as I was telling him this, there came a great roar of laughter behind us, and there were those fellows who had been listening all the while. They were very impudent, and asked if they might come and see me pumping snow some day, making game of me, you know : and I just told them they were a lot of ninnies for their pains, and then they got angry, and Bob ran away.' ' Well, and what did you do ?' ' Why, I reasoned with them,' said Walter, gravely, ' and told them mamma knew all about it, and she had seen it herself, and anybody could make ice who had the proper apparatus ; and Joe Steadiman said it was very wicked to say so, because only God could make it : MISREPRESENTATION. 17 and he supposed I had learned that from Sergeant Wade, the unbeliever, that my lady was so fond of visiting.