[CHAPTER II.]
VILLAGE POLITICS.
ONLY a signature! Nothing more, and only occupying two or three moments, but, nevertheless, it roused the scattered population of a certain quiet district in an island thousands of miles away, and caused more eyes to open in amazement, and more heads to be scratched in perplexity, than had been known within the memory of the oldest inhabitant.
The loyalty of England's people, and the stability of her government presented a happy contrast to the restless experiments which agitated all classes in a neighbouring country; the law of primogeniture still upheld the dignity of rank, while constitutional rights secured the liberty of all. Landowners and tenants mutually sympathised for the common welfare, and this exception on one side excited general surprise and indignation.
For there suddenly sprang up, at all points of the doomed estate that skirted a thoroughfare, huge boards, either hung to trees or mounted on poles, bearing large printed advertisements, which also placarded barn doors and wayside gateposts for miles in every direction, while newspapers echoed the eloquent praises of,—
"All that valuable, desirable, and fertile estate known as the Falcon Range, comprising every charm, indulgence, and delight that human taste, desire, or imagination could conceive or covet. Game for the sportsman, fish for the angler, views for the artist, and traditions for the poet; relics for the antiquary, and specimens for the naturalist."
In fact, an Eden of bliss for the happy purchaser, were he either of these accomplished amateurs, or all in one.
Even the dull wits of the villagers could not avoid connecting these strange advertisements with the appearance of a gentleman in a gig, with his clerk and a blue bag, who drove through the village street without stopping at the Falconer's Arms (as all respectable travellers invariably did), and up the avenue to the Moat House without favouring anyone with an idea of his business there.
It was a dismal day; the wind in the east, and provoking in the extreme that gentlemen with blue bags should presume to excite curiosity without satisfying it, especially when people felt out of sorts and had nothing particular to do.
So when towards evening the great placards began to appear, the cat had jumped out of the blue bag, and an endless theme of wonder and remark was provided.