Know thy friends and kindred,Cicely,and come hither,child,that I may kiss thee,and give thee my blessing.Concern not yourself about Cicely,kinsman,said Giles Gosling,but e'en let her go her way,a'God's name;for although your mother were her father's sister,yet that shall not make you and her cater-cousins.Why,uncle,replied Lambourne,think'st thou I am an infidel,and would harm those of mine own house?It is for no harm that I speak,Mike,answered his uncle,but a ****** humour of precaution which I have.True,thou art as well gilded as a snake when he casts his old slough in the spring time;but for all that,thou creepest not into my Eden.I will look after mine Eve,Mike,and so content thee.--But how brave thou be'st,lad!To look on thee now,and compare thee with Master Tressilian here,in his sad-coloured riding-suit,who would not say that thou wert the real gentleman and he the tapster's boy?Troth,uncle,replied Lambourne,no one would say so but one of your country-breeding,that knows no better.I will say,and I care not who hears me,there is something about the real gentry that few men come up to that are not born and bred to the mystery.I wot not where the trick lies;but although I can enter an ordinary with as much audacity,rebuke the waiters and drawers as loudly,drink as deep a health,swear as round an oath,and fling my gold as freely about as any of the jingling spurs and white feathers that are around me,yet,hang me if Ican ever catch the true grace of it,though I have practised an hundred times.The man of the house sets me lowest at the board,and carves to me the last;and the drawer says,'Coming,friend,'
without any more reverence or regardful addition.But,hang it,let it pass;care killed a cat.I have gentry enough to pass the trick on Tony Fire-the-***got,and that will do for the matter in hand.You hold your purpose,then,of visiting your old acquaintance?said Tressilian to the adventurer.
Ay,sir,replied Lambourne;when stakes are made,the game must be played;that is gamester's law,all over the world.You,sir,unless my memory fails me (for I did steep it somewhat too deeply in the sack-butt),took some share in my hazard?I propose to accompany you in your adventure,said Tressilian,if you will do me so much grace as to permit me;and I have staked my share of the forfeit in the hands of our worthy host.That he hath,answered Giles Gosling,in as fair Harry-nobles as ever were melted into sack by a good fellow.So,luck to your enterprise,since you will needs venture on Tony Foster;but,by my credit,you had better take another draught before you depart,for your welcome at the Hall yonder will be somewhat of the driest.And if you do get into peril,beware of taking to cold steel;but send for me,Giles Gosling,the head-borough,and Imay be able to make something out of Tony yet,for as proud as he is.The nephew dutifully obeyed his uncle's hint,by taking a second powerful pull at the tankard,observing that his wit never served him so well as when he had washed his temples with a deep morning's draught;and they set forth together for the habitation of Anthony Foster.
The village of Cumnor is pleasantly built on a hill,and in a wooded park closely adjacent was situated the ancient mansion occupied at this time by Anthony Foster,of which the ruins may be still extant.The park was then full of large trees,and in particular of ancient and mighty oaks,which stretched their giant arms over the high wall surrounding the demesne,thus giving it a melancholy,secluded,and monastic appearance.The entrance to the park lay through an old-fashioned gateway in the outer wall,the door of which was formed of two huge oaken leaves thickly studded with nails,like the gate of an old town.
We shall be finely helped up here,said Michael Lambourne,looking at the gateway and gate,if this fellow's suspicious humour should refuse us admission altogether,as it is like he may,in case this linsey-wolsey fellow of a mercer's visit to his premises has disquieted him.But,no,he added,pushing the huge gate,which gave way,the door stands invitingly open;and here we are within the forbidden ground,without other impediment than the passive resistance of a heavy oak door moving on rusty hinges.They stood now in an avenue overshadowed by such old trees as we have described,and which had been bordered at one time by high hedges of yew and holly.But these,having been untrimmed for many years,had run up into great bushes,or rather dwarf-trees,and now encroached,with their dark and melancholy boughs,upon the road which they once had screened.The avenue itself was grown up with grass,and,in one or two places,interrupted by piles of withered brushwood,which had been lopped from the trees cut down in the neighbouring park,and was here stacked for drying.Formal walks and avenues,which,at different points,crossed this principal approach,were,in like manner,choked up and interrupted by piles of brushwood and billets,and in other places by underwood and brambles.Besides the general effect of desolation which is so strongly impressed whenever we behold the contrivances of man wasted and obliterated by neglect,and witness the marks of social life effaced gradually by the influence of vegetation,the size of the trees and the outspreading extent of their boughs diffused a gloom over the scene,even when the sun was at the highest,and made a proportional impression on the mind of those who visited it.
This was felt even by Michael Lambourne,however alien his habits were to receiving any impressions,excepting from things which addressed themselves immediately to his passions.
