Lost Sir Massingberd: A Romance of Real Life. v. 1/2 Read online

  CHAPTER VI.

  HEAD OVER HEELS.

  I obeyed my tutor and my friend in keeping all I knew regarding SirMassingberd to myself; but the knowledge weighed heavily upon my spiritsfor several days. Soon, however, my mind recovered its youthfulelasticity. I began to think that Marmaduke's morbid disposition hadperhaps exaggerated matters; that the baronet was not so black as waspainted; that my friend would soon be his own master; and, in short, Ilaid all that flattering unction to my soul which is so abundant in thecase of the misfortunes of others, and so difficult to be procured whenthe calamity is our own. Moreover, in a few days I was in possession ofan excellent horse, and there is nothing more antagonistic tomelancholy--especially when it is vicarious--than a good gallop. Nay,more, after a little, Marmaduke had a horse also. He came to call forme, that we should go out for a ride together the first day, and I shallnot easily forget it. How handsome and happy he looked! As if thehigh-conditioned animal he bestrode had imparted to him some of his ownfire and freedom, he wore scarcely any trace of his habitual depression."This is our 4th of July," said he gaily; "my day of independence, asthe rebels say!"

  It happened to be his birthday also, he was seventeen, so that allthings conspired to make it a gala-day. My tutor, who was a judge ofhorseflesh, examined the new steed with great attention. "He is superb,"said he, "and you sit him, Marmaduke, considering your scantyexperience, like a young centaur. No one could imagine that yourequestrianism had been heretofore limited to a keeper's pony; and,moreover, Oliver's ponies are not apt to be very high-couraged. But whata tight curb has this Bucephalus! He will not give you much trouble tohold him. So-ho, so-ho, my nag! Are you a hypocrite, then, that you needbe so alarmed at being inspected?" The sleek bay plunged and curveted,so that my own sober brown began to dance in rivalry. "By the by,"continued Mr. Long, as though a sudden thought had struck him, "I haveoccasion to visit Mr. Jervis of the farm at Staplehurst some day thisweek; if it is the same to you, let us go there to-day; it will be anobject for your ride, while I shall have the pleasure of your company."

  In a few minutes, my tutor's old white mare was brought round to theRectory door by the gardener, who was groom and butler also, and we setout together at a foot's pace. Mr. Long never took his eyes off the bay,and therefore did not observe Sir Massingberd, who, with his huge armsresting on a gate by the roadside, watched us pass with a grim smile."Well, parson," exclaimed he--and at the sound of his voice I perceivedmy tutor start in his saddle--"what think you of the little Londoner?"

  "I cannot say at present, Sir Massingberd," returned my tutor withdeliberation. "He is a beauty to look at; and if he has no vice, is abargain at five-and-thirty pounds."

  "Vice! Why should he have vice, man? A child might ride him for thatmatter. I got him with the best of characters. But you'll never teachthose lads to ride if you are always at their stirrup-leather, likethis. Let them ride alone, and race together. Don't treat them like abrace of mollycoddles. Why, at their age, I could have backed any horsein Christendom without a saddle. I wonder you don't give Miss Marmadukea leading-rein."

  The colour, which had faded from the lad's cheeks, returned to themagain at this sneer; but Mr. Long only remarked: "If you had had aleading-rein yourself, Sir Massingberd, at seventeen, it would have beena great deal better for you," and rode on without the leastconsciousness, as I believe, of having made any such observation.

  When we had advanced about a mile, and had left the village quite behindus, my tutor expressed a wish to change horses with Marmaduke.

  "I want to try his paces," said he; and certainly, if he had been ahorse-breaker by profession, he could not have taken more pains with theanimal. He trotted, he cantered, he galloped; he took him into a field,and over some fences; he forced him by a wind-mill in full work; and, inshort, he left no means untried to test his temper. In the end, heexpressed himself highly satisfied. "Really," said he, "Sir Massingberdhas got you a first-rate steed, with plenty of courage, yet withoutvice; he makes me quite dissatisfied with my poor old mare."

  The next day, and the next, we rode again without my tutor; and on thefourth day it was agreed that we should take an expedition as far asCrittenden, some ten miles away, where Mr. Long wished us to do somecommissions for him. By this time, Marmaduke was quite accustomed to hisrecent acquisition; enjoyed the exercise greatly; and since SirMassingberd was much engaged with his guests, passed altogether moreagreeable days. On the afternoon in question, the Hall party were outshooting, and had taken with them all the stable domestics except a rawlad who scarcely knew how to saddle a horse.

  "I cannot think what is the matter this afternoon with 'Panther'" (we socalled his skittish animal), exclaimed Marmaduke, as he rode up to theRectory door. "I could scarcely get him to start from the yard, and hecame here mostly upon his hind-legs. Is there anything wrong with hisgirths, think you? Ned did not know where to lay his hands on anything,and my uncle has taken William with him to 'mark.'"

  "Nay," said I, "I see nothing the matter. We will soon take off hissuperfluous energy over Crittenden Common."

  Long, however, before we reached that spot, we had had galloping enoughand to spare. Twice had Panther fairly taken the bit between his teeth(as the romance-writers term it, and Heaven forbid that a mere sportsmanshould correct them), and sped along the hard high-road at racing pace;and twice had Marmaduke, by patience and hard pulling, recovered themastery, albeit with split gloves and blistered hands. It was notenjoyment to ride in this fashion, of course, and had it not been forthe commissions which had been entrusted to us, it is probable that weshould have returned home. It puzzled us beyond measure to account forthe change of conduct in the bay. The difference was as decided as thatbetween a high-spirited child who requires, as we say, "carefultreatment," and a vicious dwarf: heretofore he had been frisky, now hewas positively fiendish. He shied and started, not only at every objecton the roadside, but before he arrived at them. At the end of the hightable-land which is called Crittenden Common, and descends into thequiet little market-town of the same name, there really was something toshy at. A gipsy encampment, with fire and caldron, and tethered donkey,which had been concealed in a hollow, came suddenly into view as wecantered by; an old crone, with a yellow handkerchief in lieu of abonnet, and shading her beady eyes with her hand, watched with maliciousenjoyment the struggle between man and horse which her own appearancehad gone far to excite. In a very few moments, Marmaduke's alreadyovertaxed muscles gave way, and the bay, maddened with resistance, andreleased from all control, rushed at headlong speed down the steepchalk-road that led by many a turn and zigzag into Crittenden. It wasfrightful to watch from the summit of this tamed precipice--this cliffcompelled into a road--the descent of that doomed pair. No mule could besurer footed than was Panther, but the laws of gravitation hadnevertheless to be obeyed. At the second turning, the bay, after onevain effort to follow the winding of the road, pitched, head first, downthe grassy wall which everywhere separated the zigzags from one another;over and over rolled horse and rider to the hard road below, and therelay, their horrible and abnormal movements exchanged for a stony quiet.I jumped off my horse, and ran down the two steep slopes, which atanother time I should have descended hand over hand. Yet on my way I hadtime to think with what sorrow this news would be received at FairburnRectory, with what joy at the Hall! Marmaduke's hand still held therein, which I disentangled from it with feverish haste, lest thatfour-footed fiend, which snorted yet through its fiery nostrils, andglared defiance from its glazing eyes, should arise and drag the dearlad's corpse among the cruel stones. After what I had seen of his fall,I had scarcely a hope that he was alive. There was blood at his mouth,blood at his ears, blood everywhere upon the white and dazzling road."Marmaduke, Marmaduke," cried I, "speak, speak, if it be but a singleword! Great Heaven, he is dead!"

  "Dead! no, not he," answered a hoarse, cracked voice at my ear. "He'lllive to do a power of mischief yet to woman and man. The devil wouldnever suffer a Heath of Fairburn to die at hi
s age."

  "Woman," cried I, for it was the old gipsy crone, who had somehowtransported herself to the spot with incredible speed, "for God's sake,go for help! There is a house yonder among those trees."

  "And why should I stir a foot," replied she fiercely, "for the child ofa race that has ever treated me and mine as though we were dogs?"

  "Because," said I, at a venture, "you have children yourself."

  "You are right," exclaimed she, clapping her skinny hands together, andseating herself calmly on the turf. "It is well that you have mentionedmy kith and kin. One lad is across the seas, and will never see thegreen lanes and breezy commons of England more; another lies caged inyonder jail--and both for taking the wild creatures of the earth andair, to which such men as Massingberd Heath lay claim; while my littlesister--ah, my Sinnamenta, my fair pearl!--may the lightning strike himin his wickedest hour! nay, let him perish, inch by inch, within reachof the aid that shall never come, ere the God of the Poor takes him intohis hand!--Boy, you may talk to that flintstone, and it will rise up andget you help for that lad there--bonny as he is, and the bonnier theworse for them he sets his wilful eyes on--before you get this hand towag a finger for him."

  "Woman," said I, despairingly, "if you hate Massingberd Heath, and wantto do him the worst service that lies in your power, flee, flee to thathouse, and bid them save this boy's life, which alone stands between hisbeggared uncle and untold riches."

  "Is it so?" cried the old woman, rising up with an agility for which noone would have given her credit, and looking at me with furious eyes."Is it indeed so, boy?"

  "Yes, woman, upon my soul!"

  Revenge accomplished what pity had failed to work. In an instant, shewas with me down by Marmaduke's side; from her pocket she produced aspirit-flask in a leathern case, and applied it to his lips: after apainful attempt to swallow, he succeeded; his eyelids began tremulouslyto move, and the colour to return to his pallid lips.

  "Keep his head up," cried she, "and give him another drop of this, ifassistance does not arrive within five minutes."

  Before she had finished speaking, she had lifted the latch of the gatethat opened from the road into the grounds of the house in question, andin another instant I was alone--alone with what I believed to be a dyingman, and surrounded with the blood that had flowed in a mingled streamfrom him and the dead horse, for Panther had ceased to move--alone withrecollections and anticipations scarcely less horrible than the visiblescene; and yet, so strangely constituted is the human mind, that I couldnot forbear to glance with some sort of curiosity at the flask the gipsyhad left with me, and to wonder exceedingly that its worn and tarnishedtop of silver bore upon it a fac-simile of one of those identicalgriffins which guarded each side of the broad stone steps that led toFairburn Hall.