The squire at this time was seated at the head of the table, pushing down the bottle among his friends, princ.i.p.ally consisting of the neighbouring gentry.

In the course of the day he had sent several times to know whether Twm had arrived. When little Pembroke at length went in to announce his return, he desired he should be immediately sent in, and Twm approached him with a burning cheek and an agitated heart. He questioned him in an undertone, asking _if he had brought her_, and where he had been so long; to which Twm replied, "Yes, sir, I have brought her, and much trouble I had with her, for she didn't like to come, thinking perhaps you meant her foul play; and once she escaped off the pillion into the mountain."

"The devil she did!" cried the squire; "but you caught her again?"

"Oh yes, sir, after losing much time, I have brought her at last, and she is now much tamer than at first; and you can do what you like with her."

"That's very well," said the squire; "I like the notion that she is very tractable."

"Oh! you'll find she'll do anything now, though I had to make her know her right position. She rolled off the pillion in Tregaron, and showed her legs most dreadfully."

"Fie! fie!" said the squire, "I hope you did not look at them?"

"Faith, but I did then, and very pretty they looked. But you'll be able to give your own opinion, sir, by and bye."

"A good lad, Twm, a good lad, remind me to give you a golden angel for this day's work; but what have you done with her? where is she?"

"Why, sir," cried Twm. "I tied her up to the manger and locked the door, to prevent her escape."

"Shame, Twm, shame! you ought not to have done that, for she will think it was by my orders, and hate me perhaps for my supposed cruelty," quoth the squire, thinking all the time that Cadwgan's _la.s.s_, and not his a.s.s was the subject of discussion.

"No, sir," replied Twm, "but it is likely though, that she will have an ill-will towards me, as long as she lives, for it."

"Well, well," said his master hastily, "take her from the stable into the housekeeper's room, and tell Margery to comfort her and give her a gla.s.s of wine."

This was too much for Twm, and the smothered laugh burst out in spite of his efforts; on which, his master with a severe brow, asked how he dared to laugh in his presence. "Indeed I could not help it," cried Twm, "but I don't think she ever drank a gla.s.s of wine in her life, and perhaps might not like it."

"Why, that's true; then tell the butler to give out a bottle of the sweet home-made wine for her-let it be a bottle of the cowslip wine, and say that I am very sorry for the trouble and vexation she has had."

"Yes, sir," cried Twm, who made his bow and retired to the servants'

hall, where he made them acquainted with the squire's freak of having farmer Cadwgan's a.s.s brought there on a pillion behind him; and that it was his master's orders that she was to be brought into the house-keeper's room, and a gla.s.s of wine given to her, and that Margery was to make her comfortable.

They were all aware of their master's occasional eccentricities, and that he was as absolute in demanding obedience to his wildest whims, as to the most important matter in the world. With one accord they therefore brought the a.s.s, not without great trouble and opposition on the part of the poor animal, into the housekeeper's room, where Glamorgan Margery spread a small carpet for her to lie on, and amidst the side-aching laughter of the servants, offered a gla.s.s of wine, which no persuasion could induce her to accept.

The squire had given orders that no person was to answer the bell the rest of the evening but Twm. It was now rung, and in went our hero, when he was asked, "How is she now?" "Rather fatigued sir; she doesn't like wine, nor would she touch a drop of it." "Well, well," said the squire, "if she likes ale better let her have some, with a cold fowl and something of the nicest in the house, though perhaps she would prefer a cup of tea to anything. After she has taken the refreshment she chooses, tell Margery to put her to bed, in the green chamber, then lock the door and bring me the key. I can then visit her when I am ready, you know Twm, and depend upon it I will reward you in the morning." Here Twm's risible faculties were again oppressed to bursting, but a look from his master checked him, though he bit his lip till the blood started in the aid to check his laughter.

Squire Gras.p.a.cre now secretly antic.i.p.ated the completion of his scheme, anxiously waiting for the departure of his guests, who by their noisy hilarity had long given notice that a little more devotion to the bottle would lay them under the table. The wily squire however desisted, before he had pa.s.sed the boundary of what topers call _half and half_, considering in the mean time, that his plan would best succeed by not appearing before Gwenny Cadwgan till midnight, when all his household would be asleep, and himself supposed to have retired to his room.

After some trouble, which was heightened by their forced suppression of laughter, that however, broke out in spite of them, the servants got the donkey up stairs, having previously fed her with bread, oaten cakes, and oats, on her rejection of ale, wine, fowl, and tea, which to their great amus.e.m.e.nt they had successively offered her in vain. Having brought the poor animal into the green room, the best chamber in the house, and kept only for particular guests, they placed her on the fine handsome bed; the legs being already tied, they fastened them also to the bed-posts. Twm heightened the drollery of the scene by cutting two holes in a night-cap, drawing through the donkey's ears, and slitting it at the edge, he drew the cap down carefully towards the eyes. The bed-clothes were then carefully drawn up to the a.s.s's neck, the curtains half drawn, and the first a.s.s that ever slept in a feather bed was then left to enjoy its slumbers as best it could. They bade her good night, locked the door, and gave the key to their master.

The guests at length dispersing, they all rode off as well as their muddled heads would let them, to their respective homes; the squire, as was his custom, locked the door himself, and saw every light in the house out before he retired. At length he gained his chamber, and all was still in Gras.p.a.cre-Hall. The amorous squire, chuckling at his luck as he thought of the fair la.s.s in the green-room, grew too impatient to wait till the proposed hour of midnight, and leaving his candle on his own table, took off his shoes, and softly approached the casket that he deemed contained his precious jewel.

Applying the key, he opened the door very gently, and cautiously approaching the side of the bed, said in a whisper towards the pillow, "Don't be alarmed, Gwenny, my dear, 'tis I, the squire; fear nothing, my girl, this will be the making of your fortune, my dear; and if you are as kind and loving as I could wish you to be, you may soon become the second Mrs. Gras.p.a.cre."

Hearing no reply, he considered that according to the old usage, _silence gives consent_, and proceeded to bend his face down to kiss the fair one, when a severe bounce inflicted by his _incognita's_ snout, knocked him backwards off the bed to the floor, and set his nose a-bleeding.

After recovering himself a little, though labouring under the delusion that the blow had been struck by the hand of the fair maiden, he exclaimed in an under-tone, "You little wixen! how dare you treat me in this manner?" The answer received was a loud and repeated "he-haw," with the clattering of hoofs against the bedposts. Now hoofs are suggestive, and the squire rather believed in the supernatural. He again proceeded towards the bed, but was completely horror-struck at the loud bray which the terrified a.s.s sent forth; while the poor terrified animal, after a hard struggle, liberating her limbs, struck him a severe blow on the forehead with her hoof, and getting off the bed, made a terrible clatter with her shod feet over the boards of the room. The unfortunate squire, although hitherto a loud decrier of superst.i.tion, now felt a thrill of the utmost horror pervade him, while he decreed himself ensnared by the enemy of man, as the punishment of his guilty intentions; and after a clamorous outcry fell senseless on the floor.

The servants having but concealed the light, expecting some _denouement_ of this sort, now rushed in, and saw their fallen master ghastly pale, with streams of perspiration running over his forehead, while his wildly-staring eyes alternately looked at, and turned from, the monster of alarm. When he had sufficiently recovered to learn the real state of affairs, from little Pembroke, who had been made Twm's confidante in this matter-how that wight had brought the farmer's a.s.s according to his orders behind him on the pillion, although he had been in some doubt whether he had said Cadwgan's _a.s.s_ or Cadwgan's _la.s.s_, the squire's rage was boundless.

Squire Gras.p.a.cre's rage can be better imagined than described, and all the dormant fiends of evil were at once awakened in his bosom, and the feeling which first actuated him was that of revenge upon Twm, and secondly shame at having been duped, and that with the knowledge of all his household. Exasperated at the trick put upon him by a mere youngster, and a menial, and scarcely less provoked at the exposure he had made of himself before his servants, down he rushed into the hall, and s.n.a.t.c.hed a heavy horsewhip, unlocked the door, and made his way towards our hero's chamber over the laundry; but when he reached the bedside, prepared to inflict the severest punishment that the thong of a whip was capable of, how great was his mortification to find the bird had flown! His chagrin and resentment were anything but lessened, when he took a piece of paper off the bed, on which, in a large hand, were written these pretty lines:-

If from la.s.s you take the letter L.

Then la.s.s is a.s.s if I have learnt to spell; Yes a.s.s and la.s.s methinks are coupled ill.

Though human a.s.ses follow la.s.ses still!

An a.s.s were I too-could I so arrange ill, If now I stay'd to claim my promised angel.

CHAPTER XVII.

TWM finds that his father-in-law is as churlish as ever, but Carmarthen Jack comes to grief in consequence. The Squire turns reformer. His children arrive at the hall. A tender Devonian. Twm satirizes the cook.

Thrashes the young squire, and then "disappears." Calls upon Cadwgan and Rhys. An adventure on the hills.

Twm reached his mother's at Tregaron about one o'clock in the morning, and alarmed her greatly by the account he gave of his flight from the squire's, and the cause which led to it. Jack consoled poor Catty by a.s.suring her that her son would go to the devil, and that ruin would come upon them through his tricks, to a certainty. Number one again, as the reader will see, with very little affection for his wife's offspring. It is a selfish world, and Jack did as Rome did, none the less eagerly because it always suited his own convenience. He concluded by saying that they ought to turn poor Twm adrift, and leave him to himself in order to conciliate the squire. While Jack beneath the bed-clothes, was grunting these suggestions of worldly wisdom, Catty half-dressed, was sitting dejectedly in the chimney corner.

Having caught the drift of his father-in-law's mutterings, he rose abruptly, s.n.a.t.c.hed up his hat, and while striding to the door, cried, "Good night, mother." Alarmed at his precipitate movement, and the tone in which he spoke,-"Where are you going, Twm?" said Catty. Turning around, while he held the door in his left hand, he replied, "Anywhere mother-the world is wide-and I'll go headlong to the devil, rather than stay here, where I am not welcome." With that he closed the door, and was in a moment out of sight, notwithstanding the cries and entreaties of his mother, who ran after, and earnestly sought to bring him back.

Catty, with a bitter conscience, now found that her son had a step-father, and she a husband, who was a rude and churlish tyrant. To give him his due, Jack was far from being regardless of her sorrow, but showed the tenderness of a husband in comforting her, in a manner most natural to himself. "What signifies crying for such an imp of a devil as that?" said this kind step-father: "if he starves in the field by being out to-night, it will save him from dying at the gallows, where he would be sure to come some day or other."

This tender-hearted speech had the unexpected effect of immediately curing Catty's grief, which turned to a desperate fit of rage, and without a word to signify the transition wrought by his oratory, she s.n.a.t.c.hed up a stout broom-stick from the floor, and be-laboured him with all her strength, as he lay beneath the bed-clothes, till he roared like a baited bull. When the strength of her arm failed, the energy of her tongue commenced; and after rating him soundly, she concluded her harangue with eloquent pithiness, hoping that she had left him a shirtful of bones; and expressing a devout hope that he would eventually arrive at that elevated position in society which he had described as the probable fate of her darling son. After which exertion and speechifying, she thought proper to disappear.

Jack, although he received some hard blows, by dodging under the bed-clothes, escaped better than his help-mate intended he should; he soon rose, dressed himself and went to his master's sauntering sullenly about the outhouses till daylight, when a servant informed him, after narrating Twm's trick on his master, that he was to take Cadwgan's a.s.s home.

Squire Gras.p.a.cre, since the death of his wife, gave such free range to his licentious pleasures, as placed him, especially at his years, in a most unseemly light. His only son had been two years at Oxford, returning only occasionally during the vacations; while his two daughters on the death of their mother, were sent to a boarding-school at Exeter.

Thus in his own family he had no witnesses of his vices and follies. He soon found, however, that in Wales, his offences against religion and morality were not to be committed with impunity. The respect in which he was formerly held by the country people gradually declined, while those who had daughters became extremely shy, and sent their female inmates out of the way whenever he approached.

The squire was not slow to discover these changes, and all the pride of his nature, that pride which loved ambition and power, which demanded implicit obedience, and loved to sway the sceptre of power, had aroused him within; determined to subdue the glaring insolence, as he deemed it, of his neighbours. Never deficient in penetration, he was not long in discovering this change in the bearings of his tenants and neighbours, which to a mind like his, proud, fond of domineering, and being looked up to as the superior-the grand central luminary of his sphere, round which all others moved as silent and respectful satellites-was a very h.e.l.l.

The minds of men, however, are not to be overruled, and with a wisdom rare as effective, he immediately resolved, as the only mode of re-establishing his credit and happiness, to retrace his steps-to which end he sent for his daughters home, at a time when his son was about to return from Oxford-and thus, by the presence of his children, place a restrictive guard upon his future conduct. With this change in his ideas, it will be no wonder that Twm Shon Catty was again taken into favour, and replaced in his former situation.

At length the merry bells of Tregaron announced the arrival of the heir, and the young ladies of Gras.p.a.cre Hall, which mansion soon became a scene of festivity. The meeting of the squire with his daughters was ardently affectionate; but his son Marmaduke had nothing of cordiality in his nature. His figure was tall and thin, with loose joints and ill-knit bones, while his countenance indicated both phlegm, and a fidgetty, nervous peevishness. He bore the marks of late and dissipated hours upon his countenance. His face was sallow, and his eyes sunken; he had the unmistakable air and _tout ensemble_ of a roue and a libertine.

He was by no means prepossessing, whilst his pride and self-sufficiency made him an object of dislike to all who approached him. He scrupled not to say openly that he hated Wales and Welshmen. He condescended, however, to say, that until he could get a clever English servant, in the place of the last, who ran away from him, he must put up with one of the Welsh savages. Accordingly, our hero was appointed to be his temporary valet, and ordered to attend exclusively on the young squire.

With the ladies came their aunt, the squire's younger sister, a very affected fantastical spinster from Exeter; who gave every fashion its Devonshire lat.i.tude in her conformation to it, carrying the mode to an extreme that left London absurdity far in the back-ground. The Misses Gras.p.a.cre were neither imitators nor very ardent admirers of their aunt, whose silly affectation of excessive delicacy became their standing-point of ridicule, which they put in practice on the evening of their arrival.

The hearty girls wanted something substantial for their supper, after travelling their long journey; but their aunt intimated her desire to have something that would be light upon the stomach. The poet expresses the old lady's opinion when he wrote in homely phrases:-

Sup on dainty calf-foot jelly, Never sleep with well-filled belly; Sup upon the lightest food, Rice; or anything that's good.

Mind you never eat cold meat!

If you'd sleep, that is no treat!

The nightmare black you'll have, be sure!

But suppers light are just the cure.

But great was the aunt's dismay on finding a duck and green peas brought to the table. She resolved, however, even on this fare, to show her superior Devonshire breeding; and while the young ladies lifted their peas from their plates to their mouths in half-dozens or more at a time, she, delicate soul, cut every pea in four, and swallowed a quarter at a time!