Rob of the Bowl: A Legend of St. Inigoe's. Vol. 1 (of 2)Kennedy, John Pendleton
History
Rob of the Bowl: A Legend of St. Inigoe's. Vol. 1 (of 2)
Kennedy, John Pendleton
Maryland -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
The gaiety of this leaving-taking was dashed with a sternness of manner
which all the Skipper's acting could not conceal, and as he walked
towards the door, he paused a moment to touch Albert Verheyden's cloak
and whispered in his ear, "We shall be better acquainted, sir;" then
leaving the house he rapidly shaped his course towards the town.
He had scarcely got out of sight before Blanche sprang from her chair
and ran towards her father, pouring out upon him a volley of reproof
for his unadvised and especially unauthorized invitation of the Skipper
to the festival. The maiden was joined in this assault by her
auxiliaries, the Proprietary's sister and Mistress Alice, who concurred
in reading the simple-minded and unconsciously offending old gentleman
a lecture upon his improvident interference in this delicate matter.
They insisted that Cocklescraft's associations in the port gave him no
claim to such a favour, and that, at all events, it was Blanche's
prerogative to be consulted in regard to the admission of the younger
and gayer portions of her company.
"Have you not had your will, my dear father," was the summing up of
Blanche's playful attack, "to your full content, in summoning all the
old humdrum folks of the province, even to the Dominie and his wife,
who have never been known to go to a merry-making any where, and who
are both so deaf that they have not heard each other speak this many a
day? and now you must needs be bringing the Skipper hither."
"Lackaday, wench! what have I done to redden thy brow?" interrupted Mr.
Warden, with a face of perplexed good humour, unable longer to bear the
storm of rebuke, or to parry the arguments which were so eagerly thrust
at him; "I warrant now I have made mischief without knowing how! The
Skipper is a free blade, of good metal, and of a figure, too, which,
methinks, might please a damsel in a dance, and spare us all this coil;
his leg has not its fellow in the province. You take me to task
roundly, when all the while I was so foolish as to believe I was doing
you regardful service."
"He hath a wicked look, father," was Blanche's reply; "and a saucy
freedom which I like not. He is ever too bold in his greeting, and
lacks gentle breeding. He must come to me, forsooth, with his mantle,
as an especial token, and set upon me with so much constancy to take
it! Take a mantle from him! I have never even seen him but twice
before, and then it was in church, where he must needs claim to speak
to me as if he were an old acquaintance! I will none of him nor his
mantle, if he were fifty times a properer man than he is!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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