Eugene Aram — CompleteLytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Eugene Aram — Complete
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Aram, Eugene, 1704-1759 -- Fiction
In this melancholy and silent mood, they proceeded onward till the
shades began to deepen; and by the light of the first stars Walter
beheld a small, spare gentleman riding before him on an ambling nag,
with cropped ears and mane. The rider, as he now came up to him, seemed
to have passed the grand climacteric, but looked hale and vigorous; and
there was a certain air of staid and sober aristocracy about him, which
involuntarily begat your respect.
He looked hard at Walter as the latter approached, and still more hard
at the Corporal. He seemed satisfied with the survey.
“Sir,” said he, slightly touching his hat to Walter, and with an
agreeable though rather sharp intonation of voice, “I am very glad to
see a gentleman of your appearance travelling my road. Might I request
the honour of being allowed to join you so far as you go? To say the
truth, I am a little afraid of encountering those industrious gentlemen
who have been lately somewhat notorious in these parts; and it may be
better for all of us to ride in as strong a party as possible.”
“Sir,” replied Walter, eyeing in his turn the speaker, and in his turn
also feeling satisfied with the scrutiny, “I am going to--, where I
shall pass the night on my way to town; and shall be very happy in your
company.”
The Corporal uttered a loud hem; that penetrating man of the world was
not too well pleased with the advances of a stranger.
“What fools them boys be!” thought he, very discontentedly; “howsomever,
the man does seem like a decent country gentleman, and we are two to
one: besides, he’s old, little, and--augh, baugh--I dare say, we are
safe enough, for all he can do.”
The Stranger possessed a polished and well-bred demeanour; he talked
freely and copiously, and his conversation was that of a shrewd and
cultivated man. He informed Walter that, not only the roads had been
infested by those more daring riders common at that day, and to whose
merits we ourselves have endeavoured to do justice in a former work of
blessed memory, but that several houses had been lately attempted, and
two absolutely plundered.
“For myself,” he added, “I have no money, to signify, about my
person: my watch is only valuable to me for the time it has been in my
possession; and if the rogues robbed one civilly, I should not so much
mind encountering them; but they are a desperate set, and use violence
when there is nothing to be got by it. Have you travelled far to-day,
Sir?”
“Some six or seven-and-twenty miles,” replied Walter. “I am proceeding
to London, and not willing to distress my horses by too rapid a
journey.”
“Very right, very good; and horses, Sir, are not now what they used to
be when I was a young man. Ah, what wagers I used to win then! Horses
galloped, Sir, when I was twenty; they trotted when I was thirty-five;
but they only amble now. Sir, if it does not tax your patience too
severely, let us give our nags some hay and water at the half-way house
yonder.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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