"I do sincerely hope that your Lordship will dismiss him," replied Smeaton, in an earnest tone, "not to satisfy or gratify me--no, nor even to punish the ruffianly fellow himself, but for the repute and honour of my noble friend, the Earl of Stair. If your Lordship had but heard the comments of the crowd upon the insolence of noblemen's servants, and especially of this man, who was recognized as yours, you would see that this is no specious motive put forth to cover personal anger. I punished the fellow on the spot for what he did to me; but the crowd handled your Lordship's name rather roughly, on the provocation given by him."
"I could swallow that easily," replied Lord Stair, with a somewhat haughty curl of the lip; "but he is, as you have said, a ruffianly fellow. He has broad shoulders, though, and stout limbs, makes his way well through a crowd, and has no more fear than decency. Nevertheless, you have justice on your side. I need hardly say he told his own story before you came; but I detected its falsehood, even in his own showing, reproved him for what he had done, and informed him I should wait till I heard farther before I decided on my conduct. He has had much practice in lying, but does not do it dexterously. He shall be dismissed. Let us say no more on the subject. Look upon it as done, and now, here is supper announced. We will forget all unpleasant things, and I will endeavour to have one peaceful evening before I set out. You have heard, of course, that I am going to take the chief command in Scotland, till Argyle can be made available. Then, I suppose, my destination will be France."
Thus saying, he led the way to a room on the ground floor, where supper was prepared, and Smeaton's evening was passed in a very different manner from that which he had anticipated in the morning. The topics on which they had touched recurred no more. General subjects were alone spoken of, and the only allusion to the fate or fortunes of either was made by Lord Stair, when he promised to send his guest, on the following day, a letter for a gentleman in the West, who might be serviceable to him in case of need.
"You can present it or not, as you think fit," said the Earl; "but, at all events, it will show that I look upon you as my friend, which, I believe I am not too bold in supposing may prove a protection for you against annoyance and suspicion, in case of any troubles arising in the land."
Smeaton thanked him heartily, and thus they parted.
The Colonel remained for three days more in London; but I will not here dwell upon his farther proceedings in the great city, before I may have to speak of them hereafter as fully as their little importance deserves.
CHAPTER V.
It was a bright and cheerful morning; and the scenery round Ale would have been in its greatest beauty, had but one cloud floated in the sky to chequer the landscape with moving light and shadow. But there was not the slightest stain upon the heaven; and the sun in his hot noon, was shining over the flat, waveless sea, and over brown, high-topped hills and deep dells round about. The trees were in their rich foliage, green and full; no speck of road side dust--no particle of soot--smurched the pure leaves; and underneath their branches might be found cool shade, and pure refreshing air, breathing lightly from the sea.
There was a clump of ten or twelve beeches perched upon a little knoll, overhanging the road which led to the nearest town from Ale Manor and village. A few were decayed and hollowed out, leaving little but the bark standing, with two or three long branches stretching forth, and still bearing the verdant livery of youth, even in their extreme old age. Others were in their vigorous prime, too regular and rounded to be very picturesque; while one or two were in that state of half-decay which casts this peculiar tree into the most fantastic forms.
Sitting under one of those nearest to the road, from which it might be distant about fifty yards, was Emmeline Newark. She was shaded from the sun in the position which she had assumed, and, at the same time, caught any wind that was stirring; for, blowing, as I have said, very, very lightly from the sea, it came up the deep dell from Ale Bay and along the course of the stream, seeming to pause, as if in sport, amongst the beeches, and whirling round the wooded knoll. She had a book in her hand; I know not well what it was; it might have been Pope, or Addison, or any of those stars that were setting or rising about that time--never mind a mixed metaphor, dear critic. She was in one of her musing moods, however, and the book lay unnoticed on her knee, as, leaning slightly on one side, with her shoulder supported against the smooth bark of the beech, and her eyes peeping out from under the branches towards the opposite hill and the blue sky above it, she lay, rather than sat, in an attitude of exquisite grace.