the heir of redclyffe-第57章

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A　sudden；　dip　in　the　high　ground　made　it　necessary　for　the　coach　to　put　

on　the　drag；　and　thus　it　slowly　entered　a　village；　which　attracted　

attention　from　its　wretched　appearance。　　The　cottages；　of　the　rough　

stone　of　the　country；　were　little　better　than　hovels；　slates　were　torn　

off；　windows　broken。　　Wild…looking　uncombed　women；　in　garments　of　

universal　dirt　colour；　stood　at　the　doors；　ragged　children　ran　and　

shrieked　after　the　coach；　the　church　had　a　hole　in　the　roof；　and　stood　

tottering　in　spite　of　rude　repairs；　the　churchyard　was　trodden　down　by　

cattle；　and　the　whole　place　only　resembled　the　pictures　of　Irish　

dilapidation。



'What　miserable　place　is　this？'　asked　a　passenger。　'Yes；　that's　what　

all　gentlemen　ask；'　replied　the　coachman；　'and　well　you　may。　　There's　

not　a　more　noted　place　for　thieves　and　vagabonds。　　They　call　it　Coombe　

Prior。'



Guy　well　knew　the　name；　though　he　had　never　been　there。　　It　was　a　

distant　offset　of　his　own　property；　and　a　horrible　sense　of　

responsibility　for　all　the　crime　and　misery　there　came　over　him。



'Is　there　no　one　to　look；　after　it？'　continued　the　traveller。　　'No　

squire；　no　clergyman？'



'A　fox…hunting　parson；'　answered　the　coachman；　'who　lives　half…a…dozen　

miles　off；　and　gallops　over　for　the　service。'



Guy　knew　that　the　last　presentation　had　been　sold　in　the　days　of　his　

grandfather's　extravagance；　and　beheld　another　effect　of　ancestral　sin。



'Do　you　know　who　is　the　owner　of　the　place？'



'Yes；　sir；　'tis　Sir　Guy　Morville。　　You　have　heard　tell　of　the　old　Sir　

Guy　Morville；　for　he　made　a　deal　of　noise　in　the　world。'



'What！　　The　noted'



'I　ought　not　to　allow　you　to　finish　your　sentence；'　said　Guy；　very　

courteously；　'without　telling　you　that　I　am　his　grandson。'



'I　beg　your　pardon！'　exclaimed　the　traveller。



'Nay；'　said　Guy；　with　a　smile；　'I　only　thought　it　was　fair　to　tell　

you。'



'Sir　Guy　himself！'　said　the　coachman；　turning　round；　and　touching　his　

hat；　anxious　to　do　the　honours　of　his　coach。　　'I　have　not　seen　you　on　

this　road　before；　sir；　for　I　never　forget　a　face；　I　hope　you'll　often　

be　this　way。'



After　a　few　more　civilities；　Guy　was　at　liberty　to　attend　to　the　fresh　

influx　of　sad　musings　on　thoughtless　waste　affecting　not　only　the　

destiny　of　the　individual　himself；　but　whole　generations　besides。　　How　

many　souls　might　it　not　have　ruined？　　'These　sheep；　what　had　they　

done！'　　His　grandfather　had　repented；　but　who　was　to　preach　repentance　

unto　these？　　He　did　not　wonder　now　that　his　own　hopes　of　happiness　had　

been　blighted；　he　only　marvelled　that　a　bright　present　or　future　had　

ever　been　his





　　　　　　　　While　souls　were　wandering　far　and　wide；

　　　　　　　　And　curses　swarmed　on　every　side。





The　traveller　was；　meanwhile；　observing　the　heir　of　Redclyffe；　

possessor　of　wealth　and　wide　lands。　　Little　did　he　guess　how　that　

bright…eyed　youth　looked　upon　his　riches。



Miles　were　passed　in　one　long　melancholy　musing；　till　Guy　was　roused　by　

the　sight　of　familiar　scenes；　and　found　himself　rattling　over　the　

stones　of　the　little　borough　of　Moorworth；　with　the　gray；　large…

windowed；　old…fashioned　houses；　on　each　side；　looking　at　him　with　

friendly　eyes。　　There；　behind　those　limes　cut　out　in　arches；　was　the　

commercial　school；　where　he　had　spent　many　an　hour　in　construing　with　

patient　Mr。　Potts；　and　though　he　had　now　a　juster　appreciation　of　his　

old　master's　erudition；　which　he　had　once　thought　so　vast；　he　

recollected　with　veneration　his　long　and　patient　submission　to　an　

irksome；　uncongenial　life。　　Rumbling　on；　the　coach　was　in　the　square　

market…place；　the　odd…looking　octagon　market…house　in　the　middle；　and　

the　innthe　respectable　old　'George'with　its　long　rank　of　stables　

and　out…buildings　forming　one　side。　　It　was　at　this　inn　that　Guy　had　

been　born；　and　the　mistress　having　been　the　first　person　who　had　him　in　

her　arms；　considered　herself　privileged　to　have　a　great　affection　for　

him；　and　had　delighted　in　the　greetings　he　always　exchanged　with　her　

when　he　put　up　his　pony　at　her　stable；　and　went　to　his　tutor。



There　was　a　certainty　of　welcome　here　that　cheered　him；　as　he　swung　

himself　from　the　roof　of　the　coach；　lifted　Bustle　down；　and　called　out　

to　the　barmaid　that　he　hoped　Mrs。　Lavers　was　well。



The　next　moment　Mrs。　Lavers　was　at　the　door　herself；　with　her　broad；　

good…humoured　face；　close　cap；　bright　shawl；　and　black　gown；　just　as　

Guy　always　recollected；　and　might；　if　he　could；　have　recollected；　when　

he　was　born。　　If　she　had　any　more　guests　she　neither　saw　nor　cared　for　

them；　her　welcome　was　all　for　him；　and　he　could　not　but　smile　and　look　

cheerful；　if　only　that　he　might　not　disappoint　her；　feeling；　in　very　

truth；　cheered　and　gratified　by　her　cordiality。　　If　he　was　in　a　hurry；　

he　would　not　show　it；　and　he　allowed　her　to　seat　him　in　her　own　

peculiar　abode；　behind　the　glass…cases　of　tongue　and　cold　chicken；　told　

her　he　came　from　Oxford；　admired　her　good　fire；　and　warmed　his　hands　

over　it；　before　he　even　asked　if　the　'something'　had　arrived　which　was　

to　take　him　home。　　It　was　coming　to　the　door　at　the　moment；　and　proved　

to　be　Mr。　Markham's　tall；　high…wheeled　gig；　drawn　by　the　old　white…

faced　chestnut；　and　driven　by　Markham　himselfa　short；　sturdy；　brown…

red；　honest…faced　old　man；　with　frosted　hair　and　whiskers；　an　air　more　

of　a　yeoman　than　of　a　lawyer；　and　though　not　precisely　gentlemanlike；　

yet　not　ungentlemanlike；　as　there　was　no　pretension　about　him。



Guy　darted　out　to　meet　him；　and　was　warmly　shaken　by　the　hand；　though　

the　meeting　was　gruff。



'So；　Sir　Guy！　how　d'ye　do？　　I　wonder　what　brings　you　here　on　such　short　

notice？　　Good　morning；　Mrs。　Lavers。　　Bad　roads　this　winter。'



'Good　morning；　Mr。　Markham。　　It　is　a　treat；　indeed；　to　have　Sir　Guy　

here　once　more；　so　grown；　too。'



'Grownhum！'　said　Markham；　surveying　him；　'I　don't　see　it。　　He'll　

never　be　as　tall　as　his　father。　　Have　you　got　your　things；　Sir　Guy？　　

Ay；　that's　the　way；care　for　nothing　but　the　dog。　　Gone　on　by　the　

coach；　most　likely。'



They　might　have　been；　for　aught　Guy　knew　to　the　contrary；　but　Boots　had　

been　more　attentive；　and　they　were　right。　　Mrs。　Lavers　begged　he　would　

walk　in；　and　warm　himself；　but　Markham　answered；



'What　do　you　say；　Sir　Guy？　　The　road　is　shocking；　and　it　will　be　as　

dark　as　a　pit　by　the　time　we　get　home。'



'Very　well；　we　won't　keep　old　Whiteface　standing；'　said　Guy。　　'Good…

bye；　Mrs。　Lavers　thank　you。　　I　shall　see　you　again　before　long。'



Before　Markham　had　finished　a　short　private　growl　on　the　shocking　state　

of　the　Moorworth　pavement；　and　a　protest　that　somebody　should　be　called　

over　the　coals；　Guy　began；'



'What　a　horrible　place　Coombe　Prior　is！'



'I　only　know　I　wish　you　had　more　such　tenants　as　Todd；'　was　Markham's　

answer。　'Pays　his　rent　to　a　day；　and　improves　his　land。'



'But　what　sort　of　man　is　he？'



'A　capital　farmer。　　A　regular　screw；　I　believe；　but　that　is　no　concern　

of　mine。'



'There　are　all　the　cottages　tumbling　down。'



'Ay？　　Are　they？　　I　shouldn't　wonder；　for　they　are　all　in　his　lease；　and　

he　would　not　lay　out　an　unproductive　farthing。　　And　a　precious　bad　lot　

they　are　there；　too！　　There　were　actually　three　of　them　poaching　in　

Cliffstone　hanger　this　autumn；　but　we　have　them　in　jail。　　A　pretty　pass　

of　impudence　to　be　coming　that　distance　to　poach。'



Guy　used　to　be　kindled　into　great　wrath　by　the　most　distant　hint　of　

poachers；　but　now　he　cared　for　men；　not　for　game；　and　instead　of　

asking；　as　Markham　expected；　the　particulars　of　their　apprehension；　

continued



'The　clergyman　is　that　Halroyd；　is　he　not？'



'Yes；　every　one　knows　what　he　is。　　I　declare　it　went　against　me　to　take　

his　offer　for　the　living；　but　it　could　not　be　helped。　　Money　must　be　

had；　but　there！　least　said；　soonest　mended。'



'We　must　mend　it；'　said　Guy；　so　decidedly；　that　Markham　looked　at　him　

with　surprise。



'I　don't　see　what's　to　be　done　till　Halroyd　dies；　and　then　you　may　give　

the　living　to　whom　you　please。　　He　lives　so　hard　he　can't　last　long；　

that　is　one　comfort。'



Guy　sighed　and　pondered；　and　presently　Markham　resumed　the　

conversation。



'And　what　has　brought　you　home　at　a　moment's　notice？　　You　might　as　well　

have　written　two　or　three　days　before；　at　least。'



'I　was　waiting　in　hopes　of　going　to　Hollywell；'　said　Guy　sorrowfully。



'Well；　and　what　is　the　matter？　　You　have　not　been　quarrelling　with　your　

guardian；　I　hope　and　trust！　　Going　the　old　way；　after　all！'　exclaimed　

Markham；　not　in　his　usual　gruff；　grumbling　note；　but　with　real　anxiety；　

and　almost　mournfulness。



'He　took　up　some　unjust　suspicion　of　me。　　I　could　not　bear　it　

patiently；　and　said　something　that　has　offended　him。'



'Oh；　Sir　Guy！　hot　and　fiery　as　ever。　　I　always　told　you　that　hasty　

temper　would　be　the　ruin　of　you。'



'Too　true！'　said　Guy；　so　dejectedly；　that　the　old　man　instantly　grew　

kinder；　and　was　displeased　with　Mr；　Edmonstone。　　



'What　could　he　have　taken　into　his　head　to　suspect　you　of？'



'Of　gaming　at　St。　Mildred's。'



'You　have　not？'



'Never！'



'Then　why　does　not　he　believe　you？'



'He　thinks　he　has　proof　against　me。　　I　can't　guess　how　he　discovered　

it；　but　I　was　obliged　to　pay　some　money　to　a　gambling　sort　of　man；　and　

he　thinks　I　lost　it。'



'Then　why　don't　you　show　him　your　accounts？'



'For　one　reasonbecause　I　have　kept　none。'



As　if　it　was　an　immense　relief　to　his　mind；　Markham　launched　out　into　a　

discourse　on　the　extreme　folly；　imprudence；　and　all　other　evils　of　such　

carelessness。　　He　was　so　glad　to　find　this　was　the　worst；　that　his　

lecture　lasted　for　two　miles　and　a　half；　during　which　Guy；　though　

attentive　at　first；　had　ample　space　for　all　the　thrills　of　recognition　

at　each　well…known　spot。



There　was　the　long　green…wooded　valley　between　the　hills　where　he　had　

shot　his　first　woodcock；　there　was　the　great　stone　on　which　he　had　

broken　his　best　knife　in　a　fit　of　geological　research；　there　was　the　

pool　where　he　used　to　skate；　there　the　sudden　break　in　the　lulls　that　

gave　the　first　view　of　the　sea。　　He　could　not　help　springing　up　at　the　

sightpale；　leaden；　and　misty　as　it　was；　and　though　Markham　forthwith　

rebuked　him　for　not　listening；　his　heart　was　still　beating　as　at　the　

first　sight　of　a　dear　old　friend；　when　that　peep　was　far　behind。　　More　

black　heaths；　with　stacks　of　peat　and　withered　ferns。　　Guy　was　

straining　his　eyes　far　off　in　the　darkness　to　look　for　the　smoke　of　the　

old　keeper's　cottage　chimney；　and　could　with　difficulty　refrain　from　

interrupting　Markham　to　ask　after　the　old　man。



Another　long　hill；　and　then　began　a　descent　into　a　rich　valley；　

beautiful　fields　of　young　wheat；　reddish　soil；　full　of　fatness；　large　

spreading　trees　with　noble　limbs；　cottages；　and　cottage　gardens；　very　

unlike　poor　Coombe　Prior；　Mar