Walter looked back, and saw two men approaching them at a hand-gallop.

"We are a match at least for them, Sir," said he, to his new acquaintance.

"I am devilish glad I met you," was Sir Peter's rather selfish reply.

"'Tis he! 'tis the devil!" grunted the Corporal, as the two men now gained their side and pulled up; and Walter recognised the faces he had marked in the ale-house.

"Your servant, gentlemen," quoth the uglier of the two; "you ride fast--"

"And ready;--bother--baugh!" chimed in the Corporal, plucking a gigantic pistol from his holster, without any farther ceremony.

"Glad to hear it, Sir!" said the hard-featured Stranger, nothing dashed.

"But I can tell you a secret!"

"What's that--augh?" said the Corporal, c.o.c.king his pistol.

"Whoever hurts you, friend, cheats the gallows!" replied the stranger, laughing, and spurring on his horse, to be out of reach of any practical answer with which the Corporal might favour him. But Bunting was a prudent man, and not apt to be choleric.

"Bother!" said he, and dropped his pistol, as the other stranger followed his ill-favoured comrade.

"You see we are too strong for them!" cried Sir Peter, gaily; "evidently highwaymen! How very fortunate that I should have fallen in with you!"

A shower of rain now began to fall. Sir Peter looked serious--he halted abruptly--unbuckled his cloak, which had been strapped before his saddle--wrapped himself up in it--buried his face in the collar--m.u.f.fled his chin with a red handkerchief, which he took out of his pocket, and then turning to Walter, he said to him, "What! no cloak, Sir? no wrapper even? Upon my soul I am very sorry I have not another handkerchief to lend you!"

"Man of the world--baugh!" grunted the Corporal, and his heart quite warmed to the stranger he had at first taken for a robber.

"And now, Sir," said Sir Peter, patting his nag, and pulling up his cloak-collar still higher, "let us go gently; there is no occasion for hurry. Why distress our horses?--"

"Really, Sir," said Walter, smiling, "though I have a great regard for my horse, I have some for myself; and I should rather like to be out of this rain as soon as possible."

"Oh, ah! you have no cloak. I forgot that; to be sure--to be sure, let us trot on, gently--though--gently. Well, Sir, as I was saying, horses are not so swift as they were. The breed is bought up by the French! I remember once, Johnny Courtland and I, after dining at my house, till the champagne had played the dancing-master to our brains, mounted our horses, and rode twenty miles for a cool thousand the winner. I lost it, Sir, by a hair's breadth; but I lost it on purpose; it would have half ruined Johnny Courtland to have paid me, and he had that delicacy, Sir,--he had that delicacy, that he would not have suffered me to refuse taking his money,--so what could I do, but lose on purpose? You see I had no alternative!"

"Pray, Sir," said Walter, charmed and astonished at so rare an instance of the generosity of human friendships--"Pray, Sir, did I not hear you called Sir Peter, by the landlord of the little inn? can it be, since you speak so familiarly of Mr. Courtland, that I have the honour to address Sir Peter Hales?"

"Indeed that is my name," replied the gentleman, with some surprise in his voice. "But I have never had the honour of seeing you before."

"Perhaps my name is not unfamiliar to you," said Walter. "And among my papers I have a letter addressed to you from my uncle Rowland Lester.

"G.o.d bless me!" cried Sir Peter, "What Rowy!--well, indeed I am overjoyed to hear of him. So you are his nephew? Pray tell me all about him, a wild, gay, rollicking fellow still, eh?" Always fencing, sa--sa!

or playing at billiards, or hot in a steeple chace; there was not a jollier, better-humoured fellow in the world than Rowy Lester.

"You forget, Sir Peter," said Walter, laughing at a description so unlike his sober and steady uncle, "that some years have pa.s.sed since the time you speak of."

"Ah, and so there have," replied Sir Peter; "and what does your uncle say of me?"

"That, when he knew you, you were generosity, frankness, hospitality itself."

"Humph, humph!" said Sir Peter, looking extremely disconcerted, a confusion which Walter imputed solely to modesty. "I was hairbrained foolish fellow then, quite a boy, quite a boy; but bless me, it rains sharply, and you have no cloak. But we are close on the town now. An excellent inn is the 'Duke of c.u.mberland's Head,' you will have charming accommodation there."

"What, Sir Peter, you know this part of the country well!"

"Pretty well, pretty well; indeed I live near, that is to say not very far from, the town. This turn, if you please. We separate here. I have brought you a little out of your way--not above a mile or two--for fear the robbers should attack me if I was left alone. I had quite forgot you had no cloak. That's your road--this mine. Aha! so Rowy Lester is still alive and hearty, the same excellent, wild fellow, no doubt. Give my kindest remembrance to him when you write. Adieu, Sir."

This latter speech having been delivered during a halt, the Corporal had heard it: he grinned delightedly as he touched his hat to Sir Peter, who now trotted off, and muttered to his young master:--

"Most sensible man, that, Sir!"

CHAPTER VI.

SIR PETER DISPLAYED.--ONE MAN OF THE WORLD SUFFERS FROM ANOTHER.--THE INCIDENT OF THE BRIDLE BEGETS THE INCIDENT OF THE SADDLE; THE INCIDENT OF THE SADDLE BEGETS THE INCIDENT OF THE WHIP; THE INCIDENT OF THE WHIP BEGETS WHAT THE READER MUST READ TO SEE.

Nihil est aliud magnum quam multa minuta.

--Vetus Auctor.

[Nor is their anything that hath so great a power as the aggregate of small things.]

"And so," said Walter, the next morning to the head waiter, who was busied about their preparations for breakfast; "and so, Sir Peter Hales, you say, lives within a mile of the town?"

"Scarcely a mile, Sir,--black or green? you pa.s.sed the turn to his house last night;--Sir, the eggs are quite fresh this morning. This inn belongs to Sir Peter."

"Oh!--Does Sir Peter see much company?"

The waiter smiled.

"Sir Peter gives very handsome dinners, Sir; twice a year! A most clever gentleman, Sir Peter! They say he is the best manager of property in the whole county. Do you like Yorkshire cake?--toast? yes, Sir!"

"So so," said Walter to himself, "a pretty true description my uncle gave me of this gentleman. 'Ask me too often to dinner, indeed!'--'offer me money if I want it!'--'spend a month at his house!'--'most hospitable fellow in the world!'--My uncle must have been dreaming."

Walter had yet to learn, that the men most prodigal when they have nothing but expectations, are often most thrifty when they know the charms of absolute possession. Besides, Sir Peter had married a Scotch lady, and was blessed with eleven children! But was Sir Peter Hales much altered? Sir Peter Hales was exactly the same man in reality that he always had been. Once he was selfish in extravagance; he was now selfish in thrift. He had always pleased himself, and d.a.m.ned other people; that was exactly what he valued himself on doing now. But the most absurd thing about Sir Peter was, that while he was for ever extracting use from every one else, he was mightily afraid of being himself put to use.

He was in parliament, and noted for never giving a frank out of his own family. Yet withal, Sir Peter Hales was still an agreeable fellow; nay, he was more liked and much more esteemed than ever. There is something conciliatory in a saving disposition; but people put themselves in a great pa.s.sion when a man is too liberal with his own. It is an insult on their own prudence. "What right has he to be so extravagant? What an example to our servants!" But your close neighbour does not humble you.

You love your close neighbour; you respect your close neighbour; you have your harmless jest against him--but he is a most respectable man.

"A letter, Sir, and a parcel, from Sir Peter Hales," said the waiter, entering.

The parcel was a bulky, angular, awkward packet of brown paper, sealed once and tied with the smallest possible quant.i.ty of string; it was addressed to Mr. James Holwell, Saddler,--Street,--The letter was to--Lester Esq., and ran thus, written in a very neat, stiff, Italian character.

"Dr Sr,

"I trust you had no difficulty in findg ye Duke of c.u.mberland's Head, it is an excellent In.

"I greatly regt yt you are unavoidy oblig'd to go on to Londn; for, otherwise I shd have had the sincerest please in seeing you here at dinr, introducing you to Ly Hales. Anothr time I trust we may be more fortunate.

"As you pa.s.s thro' ye litte town of..., exactly 21 miles from hence, on the road to Londn, will you do me the favr to allow your servt to put the little parcel I send into his pockt, drop it as directd. It is a bridle I am forc'd to return. Country workn are such bungrs.

"I shd most certainy have had ye honr to wait on you persony, but the rain has given me a mo seve cold;--hope you have escap'd, tho' by ye by, you had no cloke, nor wrappr!

"My kindest regards to your mo excellent unce. I am quite sure he's the same fine merry fellw he always was,--tell him so!