Lord Harold turned red, and Alice felt for him; but he replied, good-humouredly, as they walked on with the madman following them--"I rather imagine, John, you have been listening to some purpose."
"No, I have not been listening, but I heard," replied the madman "and two other pairs of ears did the same."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Lord Harold; "and who might they be?"
"Oh, the fox and the dog!" replied Silly John, in a rambling way; "The fox and the dog, to be sure. The dog wanted to go away when you came, but the fox would not let him, saying, that if they stirred they would be heard and seen, and then folks would wonder what they came there for so early of a morning--was not that a cunning fox? But I could have told him what they both came there for, if I had liked, but that would never do."
"And pray what is the dog's name?" demanded Lord Harold, in a quiet tone, well knowing that an appearance of curiosity would often set their half-witted companion rambling to different subjects from that which had before engaged him.
"Oh, every dog has a name," replied the madman; "but they change their names as well as men and women, Harold. This dog's name was once Lion, and it is now Trusty, and to-morrow it may be Lord. I have known dogs have twenty names in their lives. God help us! we are queer creatures! And talking of dogs, I had a dog when I was second master at Uppington School,"--and so he rambled on.
There was no stopping him, or recalling him to the subject; and he followed Alice and Lord Harold, keeping close to the side of the latter, and talking incessantly, but now so deeply engaged in the wild and disordered stream of his own thoughts, that taking no further notice of the conversation which the young nobleman renewed with his fair companion, and continued with a low voice till they reached the house, he went on volubly, touching upon a thousand subjects, and darting after every collateral idea that was suggested by a chance word spoken even by himself.
[CHAPTER V.]
The day which we have begun in the last chapter, passed over without any other event of importance. Lord Harold left Alice at the door of the house, mounted his horse, and departed. Alice communicated to her father all that had taken place, and found him more grieved than she had expected, but not at all surprised. The angler was again seen fishing in the stream as the first shadows of evening began to fall; but his efforts were not so successful as before, and he retired early to rest.
The following morning was again a bright one--too bright, indeed, for his sport; and in the course of the forenoon Langford made his appearance at the Manor House and paid a lengthened visit. At first he found only Sir Walter Herbert at home, but the visitor seemed to enjoy his conversation much; and the good old knight suffered it to be sufficiently evident that the society of his new acquaintance was anything but disagreeable to him. In the course of half an hour, however, Alice Herbert herself appeared; and not only did Langford's eye light up with pleasure, but the conversation, which had before been of somewhat a grave, if not of a sad cast, instantly, as if by magic, became bright and sparkling, like the dark woods in the fairy tale, which, by a stroke of the enchanter's wand, are changed to crystal palaces and illuminated gardens. Alice, without knowing what had passed before, felt that her presence had produced a change. She felt, too, that her society had an influence upon Langford; that it called forth and brought into activity the treasures and capabilities of his mind; and, if truth must be spoken, it was not unpleasant to her to feel that such was the case.