"Run, carry my compliments to Captain Bently, and ask him to lend it to me for an hour."
Two or three messengers started with obedient speed to fulfil the wishes of their master: but the land conveyance of a boat is a work of time; and, long before their return, Philip, tired, as we may suppose, of his amusement, steered the boat to the most distant part of the lake (which happened to be nearest his own home), and jumped on shore, behind some bushes, which jutted out and concealed his landing. He had walked quietly through the Park, and arrived at the village, before Lord Robert perceived, by the irregular drifting of the little vessel, that she was deserted, and the culprit had escaped his vengeance.
Lord Robert was literally glowing with rage, when he met his father in the breakfast-room. For some reason best known to himself, he had hitherto concealed from the Marquis his encounters with Philip Harley; but, in the moment of indignation, everything blazed forth; and, in all the exaggeration of anger, he informed his father of every outrage Philip had been guilty of towards him; adding, that the reason of their first disagreement was, his interrupting Philip in the act of poaching.
The Marquis was a good and humane man; but the representations of Lord Robert highly incensed him. That a young ruffian, exercising the lawless pursuits of a poacher, should take every opportunity of insulting and thwarting his son, and even of brutally assaulting him in his own park, was too much to be endured, and called for the severest punishment. Certainly, of all the species of theft (and it is theft), poaching is considered with the least mercy by noblemen and gentlemen of landed property. Perhaps the Marquis may be reckoned severe, but this was an aggravated case.
It was then in the middle of the American war, and a press-gang paid pretty frequent visits to the neighbouring sea-port town. His Lordship, therefore, informed them that he wished to remove a noxious person from the vicinity, and they took their measures accordingly.
Philip was partial to the sea: he was clever in the management of a boat, and was in the habit of taking trips, now and then, with some seafaring friends. He was preparing for one of these excursions, when the press-gang caught him near the harbour, dressed in a blue jacket and trousers; and the unfortunate youth was immediately dragged from his native place, without even being suffered to bid farewell to his parents; and it was with the greatest difficulty that he obtained leave to inform them of what had befallen him. Indeed, the first news they heard of him was, that he was on board a tender, and destined to sail in the first fleet that left England.
Philip Harley has hitherto appeared in no very respectable light. That he was a desperate trespasser and depredator is the most favourable opinion that can be formed of him; yet there were people in the neighbourhood, who, having known Philip from his infancy, ventured to think that he had met with harsh treatment, and that his heart, once so good and upright, must have undergone an extraordinary change, or that he had received great provocation, to be guilty of such daring outrages.
There is an excellent saying, which, though old and trite, it is sometimes necessary to bear in mind: namely, "That one story is good till another is told."—There was, in truth, some little excuse for Philip's conduct; though he certainly deserved blame, and even punishment, for giving up every proper pursuit and feeling to the gratification of resentment.
Before Lord Robert's return from his long voyage, Philip Harley was considered as gentle in disposition, as he was manly and high-spirited. At this time, he was just sixteen, and had begun to make himself useful in his father's business, which was that of a carpenter.
His father was rather independent in his circumstances; and his whole family consisted of two children—this Philip, and a lovely little blind girl, called Kate. This unhappy sister (if a creature in the practice of the most angelic patience can be called unhappy) was the darling of Philip's heart. Every spare minute he devoted to amusing and caressing this child, who was many years younger than himself; and she returned his love with the most grateful affection. The cottage where they lived fronted the west, and could be seen from the London road; and blind Kate used to take her evening seat on the threshold, waiting to hear the step of this beloved brother on his return from work; with her fair face and glittering curls turned to the setting sun—with a divine expression of hope and peace on her innocent countenance, that attracted the admiration of every passenger.