LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 430, 29 October 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

LOVE FINDS THE WAY.

Continued .

Above the carved oak chimney-piece behind the Squire hung his portrait, presented by the members of his hunt. On the south, east, and west walls hung pictures of a celebrated greyhound, the interior of a cockpit, and a famous racehorse. There was one print in the room : it hung between the windows, and was the portrait of Sir Fregonwell Frampton, the father of the jTurf, and erst Keeper of the King’s running horses. A trophy of foxes’ heads and brushes, spurs, riding-whips, and hunting-horns was fixed over the door, and a silver cup or two adorned the sideboard. The table was laid for breakfast, and was spread with substantial fare. The parson seated himself one yard from the cloth, cut the tip off a tongue, pared it into slices of wafer-like thinness, and ate them meditatively. The Squire reverted to the topic of young Elliot’s proposal. ‘ She’s as obstinate as a mule ; but I’ll let her see before I’ve done with her. ’ ‘ Women are the doose,’ said the Reverend John Downes, who was a bachelor. ‘They are; and so was her mother,’said the Squire U ungramatically, and by way of response. The parson poised a thin slice of the tongue on the point of his knife and gave an assenting grunt. ‘ Look how that girl can ride ! ’ continued the father ; ‘ what hands she’s got, what an eye she’s get, and what judgment. Haven’t I brought her up to hounds ever since she could say ‘ Forrard ’ ? And what for, I should like to know. My ‘First Whip.’ I should like to see a man ghat's up to the work like she is. ’ ‘ She’s a clinker at her fences- any mortal thing. I love to see her take timber !’ said the parson soothingly. ‘She’s my daughter, Downes,’ said the Squire. * And there’s young Elliott,” he added, ‘ and everything that I have always made up my mind to, And the old man a little —a little ’

* Dickey on Ms fore legs,’ said his reverence feelingly. ‘Ay! that’s the word. We are all mortal: and his land marches field for field and fence for fence with mine, a good two mile and a half here, to say nothing of all the Killick property. But Georgiana runs quiet in double harness before this year’s out, take my word for it, or my name’s not Gilbert Haughmond. ’ Girls are a ’nation deal of trouble. If I had children I should have liked boys,’ » So should I,’ said the Squire. ‘But I’m not tied. What’s mine’s my own, and I can leave my land to Dick Cutpurse if I like. No Wiltons shall ever have an inch of it. I don’t know which I hate most, your skunk of a brother, that I was fool enough to give my other living to, and then be beat by him at the assizes, or old Jack Wilton.’ ‘ They’re a pretty pair of scoundrels,’ said the parson, in whom love of cards, foxhunting, and good eating outweighed fraternal affection —by tons. ‘And it’s that man’s Mohock of a son that my daughter must gallop after full cry ! Very pretty ! ’ . Mr Haughmond expressed what remained of his feeling upon this matter by pulling the bull-dog’s tail till he showed all his teeth. The bell in the stable-yard had just done ringing for half-past eight. The diningroom door opened, and the butler made his appearance, carrying two large and foaming flagons of October, holding a good three

pints each, one of which he set down before his master and the other before Mr Downes. He was followed by six or eight other servants, male and female, with that drooping carriage and downcast expression which meant prayers a century ago, and means prayers now. ‘ Prayers ?’ said the parson. ‘ Yes, be hanged to ’em,’ said the Squire, referring, I am happy to say, not to the prayers —an institution of Church and State —but to the Wilton family. He took a comforting pull at the ale, and then composed himself in his easy chair for devotion. On all hunting days—which at Haughraond Hall were three days a week from the 26th of July to the 3rd or 4th of May—the parson breakfasted with his friend the Squire, Advantage was accordingly taken on these mornings of the presence of a clergyman, and five minutes were devoted to a service which Mr Haughmond persevered with as a duty—irksome, perhaps, but still a duty incumbent on his station as a Squire, a Tory, and a Churchman. Immediately after prayers Miss Haughmond, who seldom graced these week day religious services with a personal attendance, made her appearance—a tall, fine country girl of twenty, with eyes as large as sloes and as dark, and plenteous tresses of hair black and glossy as the raven’s wing. Beneath the subdued melancholy that properly distinguishes the young lady crossed in love, Miss Haughmond’s features wore an expression of resolute courage and masculine determination —qualities she inherited from her father. She seated herself at the table opposite him. After the usual interchange of salutations, breakfast proceeded in silence broken only by the din of the weapons with which the Squire and the parson attacked the cold sirlion. In the way of liquids, there was October for the men and tea for the lady ; the solids comprised beef, corned and roast; brawn, ham, tongue, and game pie. ‘ Hungry as a hunter’ is a proverb which applies as well to breakfast as to dinner. For generations your true foxhunter has enjoyed the rare privilege of waking with a keen appetite. Squire Haughmond and Parson Downes were no exceptions to this rule, and, as they had a long voyage before them, provisioned accordingly. When they had finished their meal, Mr Haughmond turned his attention to his daughter. ‘ We shall have a pretty run to-day. Georgy ; so cheer up, girl. Come with me into my room. I’ve some good news for you.’ As they crossed the hall her father gave her the letter. It did not want a woman’s instinct to guess what it was. Georgiana followed her father into his justice room, where many a poacher had trembled in his shoes. Now, Mr Haughmond kept a diary, and his daughter, as well as being his first whip, was his amanuesis. The entries in the volume were short and pithy. ‘Took a bad guinea at Hexham Fair.’ ‘The skewbald fell with me.’ ‘William threw the skewbald down.’ ‘Windmill Gorse: lots of foxes; Clasher noisy at fences; found soon ; young hounds joined in the cry.’ ‘ Attended the quarter sessions. These are examples of the most noteworty events in the Squire’s life which were held worthy of record in his diary, ‘ Have you found the place ? ’ he asked, standing behind his daughter. ‘Yes, father.’ ‘ What’s the last ? ’ ‘ ‘ Lictor shows symptoms of tongue. ’ ’ ‘ Ah ! Go on, then. ‘ 7th. Dined at Elliot’s. Lost three guineas, and damn the luck, at cords.’ Got that ? ’ ‘ Yes, sir. Without swearing at the luck. ’ ‘Very well. ‘ Edward Elliot asked for Georgiana. Gave my consent with much pleasure. ’ ’ The colour mantled to the girl’s cheeks. The pen hung hesitatingly in her white fingers. Then she wrote her father’s words on the page without a shake, adding to the entry on her own account: ‘ But I will never give mine, G. H.,’ and held the declaration of independence under her father’s nose. The Squire flew into a great rage. ‘ Madam! he thundered. ‘ Sir,’ quietly replied his daughter. ‘ I’ve set my heart on this. I have. After all I’ve done for you ! An empress could not have had such horses to ride as you have had, nor a queen could not have been taught to ride straighter. Are you going to defy me ? ’ ‘I hope, sir,’ Georgiana answered, with the usual feminine evasion of the direct question, ‘ I hope that you will not be so unreasonable as to persist in urging me to marry the writer of this letter.’ ‘ Unreasonable, she calls it—unreasonable! Now that’s too good.’ ‘ There is nothing to be said against Mr Wilton,’continued the young lady, shifting her ground ; he may not have much money, but ’ , T x n ‘ You’ll bring no Wiltons here, I can tell you; and to cut matters short,’ said the Squire, pulling out.his watch. ‘ as we’ve got nine miles to ride to cover, once for all, when young Elliot asks you for an answer you’ll say ‘ Yes.’ ’ ‘Oh, father ’ ‘ And if you won’t do it out of love for me —and nobody can say I havn’t been one father out of ten thousand to you—l’ll have you to understand my authority is to be respected,’ ‘ Father,’ she cried, * you know I love you dearly.’ . She put out her arms, but the Squire stood back a step or two. ‘But I have given ray promise to Mr Wilton. I love him better than all the world. You have opposed me all along; but women are not to be forced into marrying to please even their fathers. I can be happy with nobody else, and I mean to have him. With this spirited speech the young Diana closed the door behind her, and left her father to his fury, and the perusal of Elliot’s letter, which lay crumpled on the floor. ‘ Very well, my lady ! very well indeed,’ he said, as the door closed behind her; ‘ we shall see who is master, you or I. ’ ****** The meet that day was at Windmill Gorse, a place in high favour with the foxhunters of the district, a sure find and a good run. There were nearly a hundred horsemen in the field, to say nothing of rustics on foot. The dismantled mill crowned a gentle rise, on which were several acr.es of old gorse. From the summit you could count eight church-steeples, and see into four adjoining counties. Well-timbered pasture land of sound old turf stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see. It was a paradise for sportsmen, and its effect told upon none more than upon Squire Haughmond, who

arrived in huntsman’s time, at a quarter past ten sharp. Mounted on a slashing grey, arrayed in a green cloth coat, with a leathern belt round his ample waist, black velvet cap, and mahogany tops, buckling behind, the master rode with pride among his brother sportsmen. Georgiana followed, mounted on her favourite mare, a dark-brown, fifteen three, on short legs, and with most powerful quarters, her blue habit setting off her fine figure to the greatest advantage. As she rode into the field, a little way behind her father and the parson, she was quickly singled out by the admiring eye of the pretender to her hand, young Elliot. He cantered across the field, and, raising his hat to her, tried to read his fate in her eyes. But he could read nothing there. The lady took the initiative. ‘ Mr Elliot,’ she said, looking coyly down, ‘ I am very much flattered by your proposal. ’ ‘ I am sure ’ —Elliot began placing a large ungloved hand on his heart. * Do not for a moment misunderstand me, sir,’ Georgiana proceeded. His heart thumped against his side. * I can never give my hand to you. My heai’t is already given away. ’ ‘ Miss Haughmond, if I might hope to win your affections, I would wait—any time- if you would only let me try. I would do anything for you. Give me one chance, pray.’ ‘Mr Elliot, delay wonld be worse than useless. I can trust to your honour. Promise me you will keep what I am about to tell you a secret from everybody for one hour. ’ Elliot gave her his word. ‘ I am going to be married this morning at Kingscote Church.’ At this the young man opened his eyes very wide. ‘ Then —then I wish I was in somebody else’s shoes. Is it Harry Wilton ? ’ ‘ said Georgiana. ‘Now keep your promise ; ’ and giving her bridle a shake, sfie started off at a canter for a coppice that skirted the field. The first thought that came into the mind of the rejected lover was to go anywhere out of sight; his next impulse was to gallop as hard as he could, and soothe his disappointed feelings by taking everything that came in his way. * * * * * * The Squire had put his hounds into the gorse, and was trying the cover in his most scientific fashion. * Yooi in !in yooi! yoicks ! yoicks !’ The bristly green spikes are alive with white tails. Now a hound speaks. The Squire knows the voice. ‘Hark! hark! That’s Vengeance speaking. ’ Silence again among the hounds. ‘ Get together; push him up ; push him up. Yooi in; yoicks ! ’ Two voices from the far corner of the gorse now. ‘ Hark ! Vengeance again. Push him up. Yooi, yooi, yooi-i-i-icks ! ’ A view-halloo from the corner of the field. Out come the hounds, well together, and the music is general. ‘ Gone away. Hark forrard! Yi haro, forrard ! yi haro ! ’ Away rides the Squire behind his pack, with a mounted irregular cavalry nearer his hounds than he likes. ‘ Hold hard there, gentlemen, if you please. Plague take you ! ’ to a farmer’s son, mounted on a puller and plunger, taking his first lesson in sport. ‘ Can’t you come back there ? ’ And, led by Vengeance, the pack plunge into the spinney, to which Georgiana’ had betaken herself. But the bird had flown on the wings of love a couple of miles on the bridle-road to Kingscote Church. By her side rode the man she had chosen to take in such a very unconventional way for better—her love told her there could be no worse with Harry Wilton. ‘ Isn’t it delightful ? ’ she exclaimed. ‘ I am the happiest fellow in the world. For your sake, though, I would rather have had your father’s consent. ’ ‘ Don’t be a bit afraid, Harry. He’ll storm and rave; but he’ll forgive us. I know he will; and he never would have let me have you if we’d waited —well—for ever. ’ To he continued.