Every care and attention had been bestowed upon the preparations for Smeaton's comfort; two rooms in Ale Manor had been arranged for him; for the house had abundant space for its inmates; and the good old-fashioned furniture, ponderous but convenient, had been freshly dusted and arranged, the windows thrown open, and free air and sunshine admitted, so that the whole bore a cheerful and pleasant look. The outer chamber had been arranged as a sort of sitting-room; the inner contained an enormous four-post bed, with blue velvet hangings; and the small quantity of baggage, which Smeaton had sent on with his servant, was already deposited in the first chamber, and spread out ready for his use. A hand-bell stood upon the table; and, on introducing him into his apartment, Sir John observed,
"I am sorry to say that, in this part of the house, there are no bells hung, but your servant has been placed on the opposite side of the court, so that, by just opening the casement at any time, you can summon him by that instrument on the table."
Thus saying, he left him, giving him notice of the hour of dinner, which was now approaching; and, even before proceeding to change his traveller's dress, Smeaton sat down in one of the large easy chairs, to meditate over his present situation and his prospects.
I shall not pause, however, to analyze his thoughts, but carry him at once to the dining-room. Nor will I dwelt upon an English dinner of the olden time, though it had curious features. Suffice it that it passed pleasantly, and that Smeaton's easy manners and varied conversation soon removed from the mind of Emmeline the feeling of restraint produced by freshness of acquaintance. As soon as dinner was over she rose and retired. Richard Newark did the same, for there were yet many hours of daylight left, and his rambling habits seldom suffered him to remain long in any one spot. Sir John Newark pressed the wine upon his guest, according to the fashion of the day, but Smeaton announced at once his very moderate habits, saying that he feared the school in which he had been brought up did not qualify him to compete with Englishmen in the use of the bottle. He had remarked, too, that during dinner Sir John Newark, while conversing with the utmost apparent frankness, had dropped in questions with regard to foreign countries and to Smeaton's own adventures, which he could not help thinking had a sinister object. He was, therefore, in some degree, upon his guard; but he soon found that his companion knew more than he had imagined.
During the space of about five minutes after the dessert was set upon the table, one or other of the servants came in from time to time, to put more wine on the buffet, to carry away this piece of plate or that; but, when the last of them departed, and the door seemed finally closed, Sir John Newark stretched himself back in his chair, and said, with a very peculiar smile,
"Now, my dear Lord, we shall be able to talk more at our ease, though I suppose it will be better for me to keep up the habit of treating you as Colonel Smeaton, rather than as the Earl of Eskdale?"
Whatever he might feel, Smeaton did not suffer the slightest look of surprise to come upon his countenance. In truth, no sooner had he heard that Bolingbroke had named him to Sir John Newark, than he came to the conclusion that his present worthy host had acquired a great deal of true, and probably a great deal of false, information concerning him. He was not, however, very anxious to correct any false impressions that Sir John Newark might have received; for there were various reasons which induced him to wish that the notions of the knight regarding him should be as vague and undefined as possible, and he was well aware that nothing serves to puzzle and confuse the minds of very shrewd and cunning people so much as half knowledge. It is worse than ignorance, for it encumbers the ground. He was resolved, then, on his part, neither to tell nor explain any thing; but to let Sir John pursue his own course, and make any assumptions which he chose.
After a moment's seeming consideration, Smeaton said, "Perhaps, Sir John, it would be better to avoid my title both in public and in private. The name of Colonel Smeaton gives me quite as much dignity as I can well carry in this country, for the time being."
"Lord Bolingbroke informs me--and I was very sorry to hear it," continued Sir John Newark, after a pause to consider how he should pursue the attack, "that her Ladyship was very unwell when he wrote."
"She was so when I left her," replied Smeaton. "But my last letters informed me she was much better. Otherwise, I should not have ventured to protract my stay in this country."