Red Cap Tales Part 19

The "accomplished cousin" finally decided to shake hands with mingled awkwardness and an a.s.sumption of sulky indifference. This being done, he immediately announced his intention of going to help the huntsmen couple up the hounds, and so he took himself off.

"There he goes," said the young lady, following him with disdainful eyes, "the prince of grooms and c.o.c.k-fighters and blackguard horse-racers. But truly there is not one of them to mend another!"

She turned sharply upon Frank.

"Have you read Markham?" she demanded.

Poor Frank had never even heard of that author. The girl held up her hands in horror.

"Never to have heard of Markham--the Koran of this savage tribe--the most celebrated author on farriery!" she cried. "Then I fear you are equally a stranger to the more modern names of Gibson and Bartlett?"

"I am, indeed, Miss Vernon," answered Frank, meekly.

"And do you not blush to own it?" she cried. "Why, we will disown the alliance. Then I suppose you can neither give a ball, nor a mash, nor a horn?"

"I confess," said Frank, "I trust all these matters to my groom."

"Incredible carelessness!" she continued. "What was your father thinking of? And you cannot shoe a horse, or cut his mane and tail. Or worm a dog, or crop his ears, or cut his dew-claws; or reclaim a hawk or give him casting-stones, or direct his diet when he is sealed! Or--"

Frank could only once for all profess his utter ignorance of all such accomplishments.

"Then in the name of Heaven, Mr. Frank Osbaldistone, what _can_ you do?"

"Very little to the purpose, I am afraid, Miss Vernon," answered Frank; "only this--when my groom has dressed my horse I can ride him, and when my hawk is in the field, I can fly him."

"Can you do this?" said Die Vernon, setting her horse to a rude gate composed of pieces of wood from the forest, and clearing it at a bound.

In a moment Frank was at her side.

"There are hopes for you yet," she said. "I was afraid that you were a very degenerate Osbaldistone. But what brings you to Cub Hall? I suppose you could have stayed away if you had liked?"

"The Cubs of the Hall may be as you describe them," said Frank, looking at his companion, "but I am convinced there is one exception that will make amends for all their deficiencies."

"Oh, you mean Rashleigh!" said Die Vernon.

"Indeed, I do not," said Frank, who had not been four years in France for nothing, "I never even heard of Rashleigh. I mean some one very much nearer me."

"I suppose I should pretend not to understand you," she answered, "but that is not my way. If I were not in the saddle, I would make you a courtesy. But seriously, I deserve your exception, for besides Rashleigh and the old priest, I am the only conversable being about Osbaldistone Hall."

"And who, for Heaven's sake, is Rashleigh?"

"Your youngest cousin, about your own age, but not so--so well-looking.

Full of natural sense--learned, as being bred to the church, but in no hurry to take orders--and in addition by all odds the cleverest man in a country where such are scarce."

They rode back to the Hall, but as it was some time before Frank could get any one to attend to his own horse and Diana's mare, which she had left in his charge, he had time to look about him and take in the old castle and its rough, wasteful prodigality of service. By and by, however, there arrived Sir Hildebrand, who, among his sons, seemed, by comparison at least, both intelligent and a gentleman. He gave Frank a rough but hearty welcome to his mansion.

"Art welcome, lad!" he said. "I would have seen thee before but had to attend to the kennelling of the hounds. So thy father has thought on the old Hall and old Sir Hildebrand at last! Well, better late than never!

Here are thy cousins--Percie, Thornie, John, d.i.c.k, and Wilfred. But where's Rashleigh? Ay, here's Rashleigh! Take thy long body aside, Thornie, and let's see thy brother a bit. And here's my little Die, my sister's daughter, the prettiest girl on our dales, be the next who she may. And so now let's to the sirloin!"

The five elder brethren of Osbaldistone Hall were all cast in one mould--tall, well-formed, athletic men, but dull of feature and expression, and seemingly without any intellect whatever. Rashleigh, the youngest, was the exact opposite of his brethren. Short in stature, thick-set, and with a curious halt in his gait, there was something about his dark irregular features--something evil, relentless, and cruel, which even the a.s.sumed gentleness of his words and the melody of his voice could not hide. His brothers were mere oafs in learning, none of whom ever looked at printed paper save to make a fly-book of it. But Rashleigh was learned, and, when he pleased, of manners exquisitely refined.

It was, however, Miss Diana who really introduced Frank to his cousins, and the ceremony took place that day at dinner, while the young men were devoting themselves heartily to the meat which they piled up on their platters. The clatter of knives and forks covered her voice.

"Your cousins," she said, "taken all together, form a happy compound of the sot, the gamekeeper, the bully, the horse-jockey, and the fool. But as no two leaves off the same tree are quite exactly alike, so these ingredients are differently mingled in your kinsmen. Percie, the son and heir, has more of the sot than of the gamekeeper, bully, horse-jockey, or fool. My precious Thornie is more of the bully--John, who sleeps whole weeks among the hills, has most of the gamekeeper. The jockey is powerful with d.i.c.kon, who rides two hundred miles by day and night, to be bought and sold himself at a race-meeting. And the fool so predominates over Wilfred's other characteristics that he may be termed a fool positive."

Though Frank pressed her, Die Vernon refused to add Sir Hildebrand to her gallery of family portraits.

"I owe him some kindnesses," she said, "or what at least were meant for such. And besides, I like him. You will be able to draw his picture yourself when you know him better."

Having once before been successful with a compliment, when talking to his beautiful companion, Frank now summoned his French breeding and tried a second. He had been silent for a minute, and Miss Vernon, turning her dark eyes on him, had said with her usual careless frankness, "You are thinking of me!"

"How is it possible," answered Master Frank, "that I should think of anything else, seated where I have the happiness to be."

But Diana only smiled with a kind of haughty scorn, and replied, "I must tell you at once, Mr. Osbaldistone, that your pretty sayings are wholly lost on me. Keep them for the other maids whom you will meet here in the north. There are plenty who will thank you for them. As for me, I happen to know their value. Come, be sensible! Why, because she is dressed in silk and gauze, should you think that you are compelled to unload your stale compliments on every unfortunate girl? Try to forget my s.e.x. Call me Tom Vernon. Speak to me as to a friend and companion, and you have no idea how much I shall like you."

Frank's expression of amazement at these words egged on Diana to further feats of daring.

"But do not misjudge me," she said, "as I see you are likely to do. You are inclined to think me a strange bold girl, half coquette, half romp, desirous, perhaps, of storming you into admiration. You never were more mistaken. I would show as much favour to your father, as readily make _him_ my confidant, if he were here--and if I thought he were capable of understanding me. The truth is, I must speak of these things to some one or die."

Frank changed the subject. "Will you not add Rashleigh to the family gallery?" he said.

"No, no," she said hastily, "it is never safe to speak of Rashleigh--no, not even when, as you now think, he has left the table. Do not be too sure even of that--and when you speak of Rashleigh Osbaldistone, get up to the top of Otterscope Hill, stand on the very peak, and speak in whispers. And, after all, do not be too sure that a bird of the air may not carry the matter. Rashleigh was my tutor for four years. We are mutually tired of each other, and we shall heartily rejoice to be separated!"

Nevertheless Rashleigh it was who had been selected in full family conclave to take Frank's empty stool in the counting-house of Osbaldistone, Tresham and Company in Crane Alley. Indeed, there was no choice. His brothers were incapable even of the multiplication table.

Besides, they wished him away, with the feelings of mice who hear that the family cat is going off to fill another situation. Even his father, who stood no little in awe of his clever son, breathed more freely at the thought of Osbaldistone Hall without Rashleigh.

It was not long before Mr. Frank Osbaldistone had a taste of his cousin Rashleigh's quality. The very next morning his uncle and cousins looked at him curiously when he came down early. Sir Hildebrand even quoted a rhyme for his benefit,

"He that gallops his horse on Blackstone Edge, May chance to catch a fall."

It was a fox-hunting morning, and during a long run Frank sustained his character as a good and daring rider, to the admiration of Diana and Sir Hildebrand, and to the secret disappointment of his other kind kinsfolk, who had prophesied that he would certainly "be off at the first burst," chiefly for the reason that he had a queer, outlandish binding round his hat.

It was plain that Diana wanted to speak with him apart, but the close attendance of Cousin Thornie for some time made this impossible. That loutish youth's persistence finally fretted the girl, and having been accustomed all her life to ride the straightest way to her desire, she bade him be off to see that the earths above Woolverton Mill were duly stopped.

After some objections Thornie was got safely out of the road, and Diana led the way to a little hill whence there was a fine view in every direction. She pointed, as Frank thought, somewhat significantly to the north.

"Yonder whitish speck is Hawkesmore Crag in Scotland," she said, "the distance is hardly eighteen miles, as the crow flies. Your horse will carry you there in two hours--and I will lend you my mare if you think her less blown."

"But," said Frank, quite mystified, "I have so little wish to be in Scotland, that if my horse's head were in Scotland, I would not give his tail the trouble of following. What should I do in Scotland, Miss Vernon?"

"Why, provide for your safety--do you understand me now, Mr. Frank?"

"Less than ever, Miss Vernon," he answered. "I have not the most distant conception of what you mean."

"Why, then," said Diana, "to be plain, there is an information lodged with our nearest Justice of the Peace, Squire Inglewood, that you were concerned in a robbery of government papers and money sent to pay the troops in Scotland. A man with whom you travelled, and whom you certainly frightened, has lodged such a complaint against you. His name is Morris."

"Morris has been robbed?"

"Ay," said Diana, "and he swears you are the man who robbed him."