Great Britain -- History -- Commonwealth and Protectorate, 1649-1660 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
“No, my good friend,” said Colonel Everard; “the part which I have
taken in these unhappy broils, perhaps also the mode of worship in
which I have been educated, have so prejudiced me in mine uncle’s
opinion, that I must be for some time a stranger to his house and
family.”
“Indeed! I rejoice to hear it with all my heart and soul,” said the
divine. “Excuse my frankness—I do indeed rejoice; I had thought—no
matter what I had thought; I would not again give offence. But truly
though the maiden hath a pleasant feature, and he, as all men say, is
in human things unexceptionable, yet—but I give you pain—in sooth, I
will say no more unless you ask my sincere and unprejudiced advice,
which you shall command, but which I will not press on you
superfluously. Wend we to the borough together—the pleasant solitude of
the forest may dispose us to open our hearts to each other.”
They did walk up to the little town in company, and somewhat to Master
Holdenough’s surprise, the Colonel, though they talked on various
subjects, did not request of him any ghostly advice on the subject of
his love to his fair cousin, while, greatly beyond the expectation of
the soldier, the clergyman kept his word, and in his own phrase, was
not so superfluous as to offer upon so delicate a point his unasked
counsel.
CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH.
Then are the harpies gone—Yet ere we perch
Where such foul birds have roosted, let us cleanse
The foul obscenity they’ve left behind them.
AGAMEMNON.
The embassy of Wildrake had been successful, chiefly through the
mediation of the Episcopal divine, whom we formerly found acting in the
character of a chaplain to the family, and whose voice had great
influence on many accounts with its master.
A little before high noon, Sir Henry Lee, with his small household,
were again in unchallenged possession of their old apartments at the
Lodge of Woodstock; and the combined exertions of Joceline Joliffe, of
Phœbe, and of old Joan, were employed in putting to rights what the
late intruders had left in great disorder.
Sir Henry Lee had, like all persons of quality of that period, a love
of order amounting to precision, and felt, like a fine lady whose dress
has been disordered in a crowd, insulted and humiliated by the rude
confusion into which his household goods had been thrown, and impatient
till his mansion was purified from all marks of intrusion. In his anger
he uttered more orders than the limited number of his domestics were
likely to find time or hands to execute. “The villains have left such
sulphureous steams behind them, too,” said the old knight, “as if old
Davie Leslie and the whole Scottish army had quartered among them.”
“It may be near as bad,” said Joceline, “for men say, for certain, it
was the Devil came down bodily among them, and made them troop off.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account