The Man-at-Arms; or, Henry De Cerons. Volumes I and II

by G. P. R. James

As I stood upon the threshold, intending to waken one of the grooms, whom I had chosen, at the time the baron had last visited the castle, to attend upon me, having occasion for some one to carry my valise to the next cabaret, a thousand recollections of the place, sweet, and happy, and affectionate, crowded upon my heart; a thousand gloomy images of the future rose up before my eyes; Hope hung down her torch, as if its light had been extinguished; and memory strove to bind me to that past from which I was tearing myself away.

I looked round the little room which I had inhabited, and every object that my eye fell upon acquired an interest that it had never acquired before. The dreams of childhood, the thoughts of other years, the figures of some long gone, came back in crowds, and tenanted the apartment; and my heart would have broken if I had not wept.

My tears were quickly dried, however; and I went to wake the boy, and tell him of my purpose. I found him in so sound a sleep that I could hardly wake him; and, after he was roused, he gazed round him stupidly for a moment, as if he did not well comprehend what I meant. The next instant, however, he sprang up with alacrity and cast on his clothes. We went together to bring the valise from my room, and then waiting till we heard the guard (for we were still in a state of war) going round to the front gate, we descended quietly by the little staircase, and passed through the court.

As all the military arrangements in the castle had been, for the last two years, in my hands alone, the gates were thrown open at my first word. The men looked surprised, it is true: but they did not presume to ask any questions, or to make any observations, at least in my hearing; and, issuing out of the chateau about two in the morning, I stood upon Blancford Lea, prepared to seek my future fortunes with my own hand.

There were still some sad feelings in my heart which would not be driven forth; but, nevertheless, I struggled hard against them, and the natural hopefulness of youth was beginning to do its part, so far, at least, that I could find some sources of consolation in the aspect of the world around me. The moon was just going down, appearing large and red through a light haze upon the edge of the horizon. The stars overhead were light, but they were far, far distant, seeming to my fancy like some of the bright imaginations of early youth, brilliant, but unattainable. I looked to the eastern sky, however; and, there upon the very edge of the horizon, was a faint glimmering light, the first announcement of the distant dawning. There seemed to me to be hope and promise in that very sight.

"I may be covered with darkness and night," I said to myself, "but the day will certainly come at length: and, whether it be fair or bad, it too will pass away."

It is the nature of man to trust in auguries; they have been found in the flight of birds or in the entrails of the sacrifice. Let me find promises or threatenings in the various aspects of nature, where the hand of the Almighty has marked his will; and, in the course of one train of events, has often pointed out what must be the course of another.

As I walked along, I did what few young men on their outset in life think fit to do. I considered deliberately and carefully what was to be the general tone of my demeanour, what the general plan of my conduct in the path that lay before me. I considered how I stood towards the world that I was about to enter; looked at the vulnerable points in my nature; considered where I was most likely to be attacked, and how I might best defend myself. I had arrived at an age when the human intellect is in full strength; I had much acquaintance with books, and my mind, therefore, was not enfeebled for want of exercise. I had every power of looking into my own heart, guiding, guarding, and directing myself, which any other man at the same age possesses. But where I was deficient was in knowledge of the world and of my fellow-men; and here I felt that I was utterly ignorant and without experience.

I had, indeed, had some little dealings with mankind during the last two or three years; but that had only served to confirm a fact which books before had taught, me--that, in general, man looks upon himself but as a human shark, whose great object it must ever be to seize upon and devour the unwary.

In order, then, at once to conceal and defend my weak point till it could be remedied by knowledge and observation, was one part of my determination. But there were other things to be considered; and I made up my mind as to the general conduct I was to pursue before I reached the first village inn. To be honest and true, daring and firm, was, of course, the foundation of all; but, in order to prevent those with whom I was likely to have dealings from perceiving my ignorance of the world, I made up my mind to put a guard upon my lips; to affect a light and jesting tone, in order to conceal deeper feelings; to assume that perfect indifference to all things which I had already learned was a natural consequence of that experience which I did not possess; and, repressing every expression either of surprise, pleasure, or grief, to be in some degree a stoic externally, and never to lay open my heart to any persons till I had tried them long and deeply.