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But I saw that his honest English blood was boiling within him. "Jem" and Jem Watkins started, so unusually sharp and commanding was his master's tone "Saddle the mare quick. I shall ride to Kingswell, and thence to the sheriff's." "God bless 'ee, sir!" sobbed Jacob Baines' widowed daughter-in-law, who had left, as I overheard her telling Mrs. Halifax, a sick child to-day at home.
He is afraid lest this story should come out to-morrow at Kingswell; and to be an M.P. and safe from arrest is better to Mr. Vermilye than even yourself, Lady Caroline." John's wife, unaccustomed to hear him take that cool, worldly, half-sarcastic tone, turned to him somewhat reproachfully; but he judged best. For the moment, this tone had more weight with the woman of the world than any homilies.
Of course, I went to Kingswell, riding John's brown mare, he himself walking by my side. It was not often that we were thus alone together, and I enjoyed it much. All the old days seemed to come back again as we passed along the quiet roads and green lanes, just as when we were boys together, when I had none I cared for but David, and David cared only for me.
A carriage overtook us here; in it were two gentlemen, one of whom bowed in a friendly manner to John. He returned it. "This is well; I shall have one honest gentleman to deal with to-day." "Who is he?" "Sir Ralph Oldtower, from whom I bought Longfield. An excellent man I like him even his fine old Norman face, like one of his knightly ancestors on the tomb in Kingswell church.
"I wants Jacob Baines." "You'll find him with the rest, in front of that hay-rick, over his pipe and ale." The lad was off like a shot. "He is from Kingswell, I think. Can anything be the matter, John?" "I will go and see. No, boys, no more games I will be back presently." He went, apparently rather anxious as was easy to find out by only a glance at the face of Ursula.
Sir Ralph Oldtower stood a good while talking with John; and finally, having sent his carriage on, walked with him down Kingswell Hill towards the manor-house. I, riding alongside, caught fragments of their conversation. "What you say is all true, Mr. Halifax; and you say it well. But what can we do? Our English constitution is perfect that is, as perfect as anything human can be.
I observed, however, that his apparel was become old and that his eyes were grown quick and eager like those of the hunted Cameronians whom I saw at Kingswell.
Soon not one remained of all those who had filled the church and churchyard, making there a tumult that is chronicled to this very day by some ancient villagers, who still think themselves greatly ill-used because the Reform Act has blotted out of the list of English boroughs the "loyal and independent" borough of Kingswell.
Nobody wants people without capital whose only stock in trade is a brief but distinguished military career, and a large experience of African fever." Alan groaned at this veracious but discouraging remark, and she went on quickly: "I mean to spend another guinea upon my friend the lawyer at Kingswell.
"Fear'd o' bailiffs!" suggested the one constable, old and rheumatic, who guarded the peace of Kingswell. "He's the biggest swindler in all England." "Curse him!" muttered an old woman. "She was a bonny lass my Sally! Curse him!"
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