“Sunny nonsenses,” was the uncourteous rejoinder—“none of your old slow-coaching days for me; life’s not long enough for dreaming—Parr’s life pills are a swindle, and Methusaleh died without leaving his recipe behind him;—so come to the point say I.”
“Though I won’t promise to adopt your philosophy for a permanency, I’ll act upon it for once, at all events,” replied Coverdale, smiling (and a nice, genial, pleasant smile it was too, showing a white, even row of teeth, and lighting up a pair of large, dark, intelligent eyes, and making the “smiler” look particularly handsome). “So to come to the point, I’m here to enlist you in my service for what the women call a ‘day’s shopping’ to-morrow: I’ve no clothes to my back, no horses to ride, no dog-cart to knock about in—in fact, none of the necessaries of life;—then, having benefited by your advice and experience, I mean to carry you off to Coverdale for a crack at the rabbits; thank goodness! they’ve got the game up and the poachers down, since I’ve been abroad: that was the only thing I made a row about when I came into the property. Why, there are no preserves like the Coverdale woods in the county, and yet my poor uncle never had a pheasant on his table. Things are rather different now, my boy, and my only real sorrow at the present moment is, that there are two whole months to be got rid of before the first of September: well! what do you say to my proposal?”
“Done, along with you,” replied Hazlehurst; “but on one condition only, viz., that when we’ve polished off the rabbits, you’ll come with me to the Grange, and make acquaintance with those members of the worthy family of Hazlehurst, whose virtues are as yet unknown to you.”
“You’re very kind; but you’ve a lot of sisters, or she-cousins, or some creatures of that dangerous nature, haven’t you? Of course I mean no disparagement to the ladies of your family in particular; but ’pon my word, my dear fellow, I cannot stand women: in Turkey they shut ’em up, you know, so that I’m not accustomed to them; I’ve given up flirting and dangling, and all the rest of it, long ago; it’s very well for green boys, but at my time of life a man has something better to think about,” and, as he spoke, Coverdale flung the end of his cigar into the empty fireplace, pitched The Sporting Magazine unceremoniously on the table, and, looking at his watch, continued, “It’s eight o’clock; I took a couple of stalls for the ‘Prophète’ this morning, on the chance of catching you; so jump into a pair of black trousers and let us be off.”
“Not a bad move,” replied his companion, “I’ll adorn and be with you in——”
“Einem augenblick,” suggested the grand tourist, philologically.
“If that’s German for the twinkling of a bed-post, yes!” was the rejoinder, and in less than ten minutes the friends descended the staircase arm-in-arm, Hazlehurst leaving strict directions with the small clerk to inform any one who might ask for him, that he was summoned to attend a very important consultation.
The next day was devoted to the purchase of Coverdale’s necessaries of life. Owing to Hazlehurst’s perseverance in bringing all the tradesmen to the point, a vast deal of business was transacted, and before nightfall Harry was the fortunate possessor of a spicy dog-cart, a blood mare to run in it, who could trot fourteen miles an hour, and really did perform ten miles in that space of time, equally to her own satisfaction and to that of her new master—two showy saddle-horses, the best being up to fifteen stone with any hounds—a double-barrelled gun, by a famous maker—a brace of thorough-bred pointers—and a whole host of the minor “necessaries” animate and inanimate, all of which, put together, made a considerable hole in a thousand pounds; but, as Harry sapiently observed, “a man could not live in the country without them, so where was the use of bothering.”
On the following morning, the two young men and all the purchases, horses included, started by the Midland Counties Railway, and dinner-time found them safely deposited at Coverdale Park, a fine old place, which, with its picturesque mansion, beautiful view, and goodly extent of wood and water, field and fell, was as desirable a property as any English gentleman need wish to possess. After dinner the gamekeeper was summoned: he was a sturdy, good-looking fellow, who had filled the post of under-keeper in the time of Admiral Coverdale (Harry’s deceased uncle, an old bachelor, to whose invincible hatred of matrimony his nephew was indebted for his present position). Harry, before he went abroad, had discovered the head-keeper to be in league with a gang of poachers, receiving a per centage on all the game they sold; he had accordingly dismissed him, and elected his subordinate to fill the vacant situation—an experiment which had proved eminently successful.
“Take a glass of wine, Markum; this is my friend, Mr. Hazlehurst. We mean to have a slap at the rabbits to-morrow; so be here at eight o’clock, and then we shall get a good long day: any more poachers since we caught those last fellows?” And, as Coverdale spoke, he filled a large claret-glass to the brim with splendid old port, and handed it to the keeper, who, received it bashfully, and then, scraping with his foot and ducking his head twice with an expression of countenance as of a sheep about to butt, replied, “Your ’ealth, Mr. Coverdale, sir—your ’ealth, gents both,” tossed it off at a draught—“there aint been no reglur poarchin a-goin on, sir,” he continued, setting down his glass as if it burned his fingers, and then jibbing away from the table as though he had shyed at it; “but that ’are young Styles has been a shooting rabids on Wild Acre farm, and seems to say as he considers he’s a right so to do.”