Gashford, the secretary, was taller, angularly made, high-shouldered, bony, and ungraceful. His dress, in imitation of hissuperior, was demure and staid in the extreme; his manner, formaland constrained. This gentleman had an overhanging brow, greathands and feet and ears, and a pair of eyes that seemed to havemade an unnatural retreat into his head, and to have dug themselvesa cave to hide in. His manner was smooth and humble, but very sly and slinking. He wore the aspect of a man who was always lying inwait for something that WOULDN"T come to pass; but he lookedpatient--very patient--and fawned like a spaniel dog. Even now,while he warmed and rubbed his hands before the blaze, he had theair of one who only presumed to enjoy it in his degree as acommoner; and though he knew his lord was not regarding him, helooked into his face from time to time, and with a meek anddeferential manner, smiled as if for practice.
Such were the guests whom old John Willet, with a fixed and leadeneye, surveyed a hundred times, and to whom he now advanced with astate candlestick in each hand, beseeching them to follow him intoa worthier chamber. "For my lord," said John--it is odd enough,but certain people seem to have as great a pleasure in pronouncingtitles as their owners have in wearing them--"this room, my lord,isn"t at all the sort of place for your lordship, and I have tobeg your lordship"s pardon for keeping you here, my lord, oneminute."
With this address, John ushered them upstairs into the stateapartment, which, like many other things of state, was cold andcomfortless. Their own footsteps, reverberating through thespacious room, struck upon their hearing with a hollow sound; and its damp and chilly atmosphere was rendered doubly cheerless bycontrast with the homely warmth they had deserted.
It was of no use, however, to propose a return to the place theyhad quitted, for the preparations went on so briskly that there wasno time to stop them. John, with the tall candlesticks in hishands, bowed them up to the fireplace; Hugh, striding in with alighted brand and pile of firewood, cast it down upon the hearth,and set it in a blaze; John Grueby (who had a great blue cockade inhis hat, which he appeared to despise mightily) brought in theportmanteau he had carried on his horse, and placed it on thefloor; and presently all three were busily engaged in drawing outthe screen, laying the cloth, inspecting the beds, lighting firesin the bedrooms, expediting the supper, and ****** everything ascosy and as snug as might be, on so short a notice. In less thanan hour"s time, supper had been served, and ate, and cleared away;and Lord George and his secretary, with slippered feet, and legsstretched out before the fire, sat over some hot mulled winetogether.
"So ends, my lord," said Gashford, filling his glass with greatcomplacency, "the blessed work of a most blessed day."
"And of a blessed yesterday," said his lordship, raising his head.
"Ah!"--and here the secretary clasped his hands--"a blessedyesterday indeed! The Protestants of Suffolk are godly men andtrue. Though others of our countrymen have lost their way indarkness, even as we, my lord, did lose our road to-night, theirsis the light and glory."
"Did I move them, Gashford ?" said Lord George.
"Move them, my lord! Move them! They cried to be led on againstthe Papists, they vowed a dreadful vengeance on their heads, theyroared like men possessed--"
"But not by devils," said his lord.
"By devils! my lord! By angels."
"Yes--oh surely--by angels, no doubt," said Lord George, thrustinghis hands into his pockets, taking them out again to bite hisnails, and looking uncomfortably at the fire. "Of course byangels--eh Gashford?"
"You do not doubt it, my lord?" said the secretary.
"No--No," returned his lord. "No. Why should I? I suppose itwould be decidedly irreligious to doubt it--wouldn"t it, Gashford?
Though there certainly were," he added, without waiting for ananswer, "some plaguy ill-looking characters among them."
"When you warmed," said the secretary, looking sharply at theother"s downcast eyes, which brightened slowly as he spoke; "whenyou warmed into that noble outbreak; when you told them that youwere never of the lukewarm or the timid tribe, and bade them takeheed that they were prepared to follow one who would lead them on,though to the very death; when you spoke of a hundred and twentythousand men across the Scottish border who would take their ownredress at any time, if it were not conceded; when you cried"Perish the Pope and all his base adherents; the penal laws againstthem shall never be repealed while Englishmen have hearts andhands"--and waved your own and touched your sword; and when theycried "No Popery!" and you cried "No; not even if we wade inblood," and they threw up their hats and cried "Hurrah! not even ifwe wade in blood; No Popery! Lord George! Down with the Papists-Vengeanceon their heads:" when this was said and done, and a wordfrom you, my lord, could raise or still the tumult--ah! then I felt what greatness was indeed, and thought, When was there ever powerlike this of Lord George Gordon"s!"
"It"s a great power. You"re right. It is a great power!" he criedwith sparkling eyes. "But--dear Gashford--did I really say allthat?"
"And how much more!" cried the secretary, looking upwards. "Ah!
how much more!"
"And I told them what you say, about the one hundred and fortythousand men in Scotland, did I!" he asked with evident delight.
"That was bold."
"Our cause is boldness. Truth is always bold."
"Certainly. So is religion. She"s bold, Gashford?"
