"I too shall consider myself at your Grace's service."
"Just as you please, Mr. Ravensworth."
"I am going a-fishing. Who comes with me?" asked Captain Wilson. "Though I can stick on a horse, I do not like the thoroughbreds here very much, and prefer angling. Will you come, Captain?"
The Captain stared, without replying; and Lady Edith answered for her brother.
"John never goes fishing, Captain Wilson; he thinks it far too slow. If Frank was here, he is a zealous disciple of old Walton's gentle art. I fear you will have to angle alone."
"No matter, Lady Arranmore, I am well accustomed to my own company."
Breakfast over, the various followers of various amusements departed. The Earl and Marquis rode off to town; the Duke and his two friends walked to find the head gardener; Captain Wilson set off with an under-keeper for the burn, rod in hand; and the young ladies, including the Marchioness and her sister, as well as Ellen Ravensworth, retired to accoutre themselves for their ride, whilst their beaux strolled to the stables to select their horses, with Wilton's aid.
Captain L'Estrange, as soon as breakfast was over, took his hat and riding-whip and left the Castle. First he sauntered through the extensive gardens—narrowly escaping the Duke, Mr. Lennox, and Ravensworth. The gardens lay on the side of the hills, having a southern aspect, and rose tier on tier. Up this moderately steep ascent our hero climbed, knocking off the heads of the flowers with his whip, to the great annoyance of several gardeners, who, however, did not make any remark. At the top of the uppermost garden was a high wall, covered with fruit-trees, dividing the gardens from the woods and mountains immediately outside; opening the door that led out, L'Estrange commenced climbing a steep path that traversed the woods, and finally led him to the open hills. On his left gushed the burn, and between it and the outside walls of the gardens the same path led to the back of the stables, and the holly walk, a green road between two walls of holly-hedge, running at right angles to the stables. When he had reached the summit of the woods, L'Estrange sat down on a fallen tree, and looked at the landscape: at his feet lay the castle, apparently so near he could have tossed a stone on it; behind were the mountains; and on either side dense woods; before the castle stretched the park for many a rood. He sat on the log for more than half an hour in a contemplative mood; then, looking at his watch, he suddenly sprung up, and bounded down the woods like a roebuck; he passed the garden, continuing down the rough pathway, reached the stable, and ran along the smooth holly-walk. At the end stood Archy Forbes, holding a horse ready saddled.
"Have you been long waiting?"
"Ay, sir, half an hour, may be, and may be mair."