In truth, Stone Dean had been a long time untenanted, except by one of those peculiar creatures termed “caretakers;” a grey-headed old veteran, who appeared less an occupant than a fixture of the place. He, his dog—old like himself—and a cat equally venerable, had for many years been the sole denizens of the “Dean.”
No one in the neighbourhood knew exactly to whom the estate belonged. Even its last occupier had been only a tenant at will; and the real owner was supposed to reside somewhere abroad—in the plantations of Virginia, it was believed.
There were not many who troubled their heads by conjectures upon the subject: for Stone Dean lay so much out of the line of the ordinary roads of the county, that but few persons ever found occasion to pass near it. Few could say they had ever been in sight of it. There were people living within five miles of the place that did not even know of its existence; and others who had once known, and forgotten it.
Of late, however, the “Old house of Stone Dean” had become a subject of some interest; and at the fairs, and other village gatherings, its name was often pronounced. This arose from the circumstance: that a new tenant had displaced the old fixture of a caretaker—the latter disappearing from the place as quietly and inexplicably as he had occupied it!
About the new comer, and his domestic ménage, there was an air of peculiarity approaching the mysterious. Such of the peasants, as had found pretext for visiting the house, reported that there was but one servant in the establishment—a young man, with a copper-coloured skin, and long straight black hair, who answered to the name of “Oriole;” and who appeared to be of the race of American Indians—a party of whom from the Transatlantic Plantations had about that time paid a visit to England.
It was further known that Oriole either could not speak English, or would not. At all events, the visitors to Stone Dean had not been able to elicit from the servant any great amount of information respecting the master.
The master himself, however, was not long resident in the county of Bucks before he became well enough known to his neighbours. He was in the habit of meeting them at their markets and merry-makings; of entering into free converse with them on many subjects—more especially on matters appertaining to their political welfare; and seemed to lose no opportunity of giving them instructive hints in regard to their rights, as well as wrongs.
Such sentiments were neither new, nor uncongenial, to the dwellers amongst the Chilterns. They had long been cherished in their hearts; but the dread of the Star chamber hindered them from rising to their lips. The man, therefore, who had the courage to give speech to them could not fail to be popular among the worthy yeomanry of Bucks; and such, in reality, had become the occupant of Stone Dean, in a few short weeks after taking up his residence in their county.
This individual possessed other claims to popular favour. He was a gentleman—nobly born and highly bred. His appearance and behaviour proclaimed these points beyond cavil; and in such matters the instinct of the rustic is rarely incorrect. Furthermore, the stranger was a person of elegant appearance; perhaps not regularly handsome, but with that air of savoir faire, and bold bearing, sure to attract admiration. Plainly, but richly dressed; a splendid horseman, and riding a splendid horse withal; frank and affable, not as if condescending—for at this the instinct of the rustic revolts—but distinguished by that simple unselfish spirit, which characterises the true gentleman, how could Henry Holtspur fail to be popular?
Such was the cavalier, who had conquered the arm of Captain Scarthe, and the heart of Marion Wade.