The Gipsy: A Tale (Vols I & II). G. P. R. James
know even that they might not be drawn into an ambuscade of dreams and wishes which he had long, as he fancied, defeated for ever; and, therefore, he hastily beat the general, and marched the whole detachment off to join his own regiment. What we mean is, that he turned his mind to military affairs, and would very fain have thought no more either of Mrs. Falkland's domestic circle, or of the future happiness of his friend; or, at least, he would have schooled himself, if he did think of such things at all, not to extract any personal feelings therefrom, but to let them be to him as matters in which he had no further share than as in a passing pageant of a pretty device, through which he was to move as he would have done through a minuet, forgetting it all as soon as the music ceased. Still, however, as he went on thinking, open flew some of the doors of association, and ever and anon out started some fresh idea, which brought him back to the happiness of his friend, and the delight of seeing a family circle of one's own, and looks of affection, and a joyful welcome after toil, and exertion, and danger were over.
As sleep, however, is a strong fortress against the attack of dangerous thoughts, he resolved to take refuge there from a force that was too powerful for him; and, going to bed, he was soon within the gates of slumber. But fancy turned traitor within his fortress, and, ere long, whole troops of dreams poured in, laying his heart prostrate before imaginations which he had repelled with veteran courage for more than fourteen years. There was, of course, no resisting under such circumstances: the garrison threw down their arms, and he went on dreaming of love and domestic happiness all night. It did him no harm, however, for one of the most curious phenomena which take place in regard to those wild visitants, dreams, occurred in this case. The visions that had come to him had all been as vivid as reality: he had felt more and more acutely than he had, perhaps, ever felt in life; there had been pleasures and pains, intense and varying; events and feelings which, had they occurred in waking existence, he would have remembered till the last hour of his life; and yet, when he awoke, he had forgotten the whole. It was as if some after-sleep, with a sponge dipped in Lethe, had passed by, and wiped out from the tablet of memory all but a few rough scratches, sufficient to show the dreams had been there.
The day was yet young when he awoke; but Manners was habitually an early riser--a habit that generally springs from two causes--vigorous health, a frame without languor, and easily refreshed; or from a refined heart, at ease within itself. When he had prayed--for all noble-minded beings pray; and the only truly great pride is the pride with which one owns one's self the servant of God: it is the soldier pointing to the colours under which he serves--when he had prayed, he dressed himself, somewhat slowly, gazing from time to time out of the window over the rich landscape sparkling with dew and morning; and then, opening his door, went out with the purpose of breathing the fresh air of the early day. The windows at either end of the corridor were still closed, for it had scarcely struck six, but the skylight over the staircase gave light enough; and Colonel Manners, descending, found a housemaid, with unbought roses on her cheeks, and blue arms, busily washing the marble hall and the steps that went out into the garden, which, stretching away to the south-west, was separated from the park in which the house stood, by a haw-haw and a light fence.
Give me a flower-garden, in the early morning, with its dry gravel-walks shining in the fresh sunbeams, and all the thousands of flowers which man's care and God's bounty have raised to beautify our dwellings, expanding their refreshed petals to the young light. The garden into which Colonel Manners now went forth was an old-fashioned one, with manifold beds, arranged in as many mathematical figures. Each bed, fringed with its close-cut green border of box, was full of as many flowers as it would hold, and as the season afforded; and though of late many a foreign land has been ransacked to procure new exotics for our grounds, yet even then the garden was not without its rich assortment of flowering shrubs; some still bearing the blossom, some fallen into the fruit. Between the beds--and, as the gardens were of very great extent, the beds were not very close together--were spaces of soft green turf, sometimes flanked with holly, or hedged with yew, so as to make a sort of little bowling-green; sometimes wide open to the gay sunshine, and full of innumerable thrushes and blackbirds, hopping along, with their fine shanks sunk amid the blades of grass. Here and there, too, was an arbour covered with clematis; and hothouses and green-houses now and then peeped out from behind the shrubberies, on the sunny side of the garden.
Colonel Manners took his way along a walk that flanked the enclosure to the east, and which, running by the side of the haw-haw, a little elevated above the park and surrounding country, gave, on the one side, an extensive prospect over a rich and smiling landscape, with the deer bounding over the grass, and the cattle lowing along the distant upland; and, on the other, showed the garden--somewhat formal, perhaps, but neat, and beautiful, and sparkling. He was a soldier, and a man of the world, and he loved books, and he did not dislike society; but, perhaps, there never was a man upon earth who more thoroughly enjoyed a solitary morning walk amid flowers and beautiful scenery--scenery in which one can pause and fill one's eye with fair sights, while the ideas springing from each particular blossom, or from the whole general view, can ramble out into a world of indistinct loveliness, wherein one can scarcely be said to think, but rather to live in a sensation of happiness which approaches near to heaven.
Although, as we have observed, one can scarcely be said to think, yet there is no situation on the earth--or very few--in which a man so little likes to have his thoughts interrupted, and his fine imaginations forcibly called back to the dull ground. Colonel Manners, therefore, was not very well pleased, when, after following the walk which he had chosen to the end, he heard footsteps beyond the bushes, round which the path now swept.
Had these footsteps, indeed, possessed that light peculiar sound which is produced by a small and pretty foot, Colonel Manners, who never objected to see the beautiful things of nature enhanced by the presence of the most beautiful, might not have thought his reveries unworthily disturbed. In the present instance, however, the sound was very different: it was the dull, heavy, determined step of a foot that takes a firm hold of the ground; and, as he went on, he was not surprised to meet with Lord Dewry at the turning of the walk.
Colonel Manners, if he had not forgot all about their discussion of the preceding evening, had remembered it as little as possible; and, being one of those happy men who never suffer any annoyance of such a nature to rankle at the heart, he had settled the matter in his own mind by thinking that the old gentleman had the toothache, or some of those corporal pangs and infirmities which cause and excuse ill-temper, and sometimes even rudeness, at that period of life when the passing away of those mighty blessings, vigour and health, is in itself matter enough for irritation. As, however, he never liked to subject himself to occasions for commanding his temper, he proposed, in the present instance, merely to give the peer "Good-morning," and pass on upon his walk.
This purpose he was not permitted to execute; as no sooner did Lord Dewry come opposite to him, than he stopped abruptly, and answered Colonel Manners's salutation by a cold and haughty bow. "Colonel Manners," he said, "I saw you come into the garden from the windows of my room, and I have done myself the honour of seeking you."
The peer spoke slowly and calmly; but Manners, who doubted not that his intention was to apologize, was both somewhat surprised that so proud a man should do so at all, and likewise somewhat puzzled by a sneering curl of the nostril and a slight twinkling of the eyelid, which seemed to betray a spirit not quite so tranquil as his tone would have indicated. "Your lordship does me honour," he replied; "what are your commands?"
"Simply as follows, Colonel Manners," replied Lord Dewry: "I think you last night made use of the term calumny, as applied to part of my discourse; and as I am not in the habit of being insulted without taking measures to redress myself, I have followed you hither for the purpose of arranging the necessary result."
Colonel Manners felt inclined to smile, but he refrained, and replied, seriously, "My lord, I wish to heaven you would forget this business. You thought fit to apply the strongest terms of injury to a gentleman for whom I had expressed my friendship and gratitude; and I pronounced such terms to be calumnious in regard to my friend, but expressed, at the same time, my belief that we were speaking of different persons. For Heaven's sake, let the matter rest where it does: I meant no personal insult to you; I trust you meant none to me. I came down here the friend of your son, on a joyful occasion, and it would pain me not a little to go away the enemy