The old man did as that child in her simplicity directed; and, when she again looked upon it, there was more than one tear glistening on the fair firm flesh.
"Let us call her 'King Charles,'" exclaimed the eldest boy, as the gallant little vessel moved down the stream; while the children, who not ten minutes before were trembling with alarm at their grandfather's displeasure, now, with the happy versatility of youthful spirits, shouted gaily at the ship's progress over the unrippled waters.
"You will call it by no such name," said Dalton gravely. "Yonder comes your mother, and she or your father can best christen your little ship."
The old man, who had launched their fairy boat, turned towards where once Cecil Place had stood. From some peculiar feeling in the bosoms of Sir Walter and Lady Cecil, for which it would not be difficult to account, only a portion of the old structure remained—sufficient, and just sufficient, to lodge Robin, and Robin's wife, and Robin's father-in-law, and Robin's children. The fine old gateway was fast crumbling to decay, and, indeed, it was well known that a kindly sentiment towards the Buccaneer decided Sir Walter on keeping even so much of the place standing, as the old man's only wish now was to die in the Isle of Shepey; and it will be readily believed that Hugh Dalton's wishes were laws to the family of Cecil. The trees had in many places been levelled, and the only spot which remained perfectly untouched in the gardens was one called "The Fairy Ring." The neighbouring peasantry believed that it was hallowed by some remembrance of which both Lady Cecil and Barbara partook; for the latter tended every herb and flower therein with more than common care—with perfect devotion. Did we say there was but one spot cherished? faithless historians that we are! there was another—a rustic temple; and, about ten years before the period of which we now treat, something resembling an altar had been erected therein, with a quaint device carved in white stone, a braid of hair encircling two hearts, and a rhyme, or, as it was then called, a posy, the words of which are not recorded, but were said to have been written by Lucy Hutchinson, as a compliment to her friend Constantia Cecil.
The old man, as we have said, turned towards Cecil Place, which then presented only the appearance of a small and picturesque dwelling. Issuing thence were two persons whom we may at once introduce as the manikin, Robin Hays, and the little Puritan, Barbara Iverk, of our story. Manikin, indeed! He of the gay pink doublet, silken hose, and plume hat, would little thank us for the term! He was rather over than under-dressed, more fine than might be expected in a country gentleman in so lonely an island; but it was evident he loved finery, and loved to deck his own person: his long black hair curled naturally and gracefully over his shoulders; his eyes had more to do, during latter years, with love and home, than with hate and adventure; consequently they sparkled with pure and kindly feeling; and if sometimes sarcasm lighted its beacon within their lids, it was quickly extinguished by the devoted affection and gratitude of his right excellent heart. His figure appeared much less disproportioned than when first we saw him taunted into fury in his mother's hostelry by poor Jack Roupall's ill-timed jests on his deformity: he was much stouter; and the full cavalier dress was better calculated to hide any defects of person, than the tight fitting vests of the bygone Roundheads, who looked to every inch of cloth with a carefulness altogether scouted by their more heedless successors. He had a free and open air, and a smile of dazzling brightness. What can we say of Barbara? Female beauty is seldom stationary; there is no use in disguising the fact, that after twenty—dear, sweet, fascinating twenty! the freshness of the rose is gone. We have said freshness—not fragrance. Fragrance to the rose, is what the soul is to the body—an imperishable essence, that lasts after the petals have meekly dropped, one by one, upon their mother-earth. A blessing upon the fragrance of sweet flowers! and a thousand blessings upon the power that gifted their leaves with such a dowry! Oh, it partakes of heaven to walk into the pastures and inhale the goodness of the Lord, from the myriad field-flowers that gem the earth with beauty! And then in sickness! What, what is so refreshing as the perfume of sweet plants? We speak not of the glazed and costly things that come from foreign lands, but of the English nosegay—(how we love the homely word!)—the sweet briar, lavender, cowslip, violet, lily of the valley, or a sprig of meadow sweet, a branch of myrtle, a tuft of primroses, or handful of wild thyme! Such near the couch of sickness are worth a host of powdered doctors! Again we say, a blessing on sweet flowers! And now for one who loved them well, and learnt much wisdom "from every leaf that clothed her native hills." Barbara was no longer the slight, delicate girl, tripping with an orderly but light step to do the behests of those she loved; but a sober, diligent, affectionate matron, zealous in the discharge of her duty, patient in supporting pain, whether of mind or body; a sincere Christian, a kind mistress, a gentle daughter, a wise mother, but, above all, a devoted, trusting wife, still looking upon Robin—her Robin, as the English Solomon,—a system we advise all wives to follow—when they can. The manner in which this truly pious woman yielded to all her husband's whims was almost marvellous—one of the miracles of that miracle-worker—LOVE! With the simple, yet discriminating tact, of itself a gift from nature, which no earthly power can either bestow or teach, she understood the wishes of Robin almost before he was himself acquainted with his own thoughts. And had she been on her death-bed, that excellent creature could have declared before Him, to whom all things are known, that "God and her husband" had been her true heart's motto.
Even Robin's weaknesses were hallowed, if not cherished things—she innocently catered to his personal vanity, for she really loved to see him well appointed; and she avoided every thing bordering on gaiety of dress, manner, or society, because she felt that jealousy was one of his infirmities; thus by never arousing his evil passions, their very existence was forgotten, and the violent, capricious Ranger would have been hardly recognized (except by his very intimates), as the self-satisfied, and somewhat important manager of Sir Walter Cecil's estates.
As Robin and Barbara drew near their father and the children, they perceived a Cavalier well mounted, and attended by two serving men, also on horseback, winding along the hill path, or road, as it was called; and the younger dog—by the way a daughter of our old acquaintance Blanche—gave notice to the little mariners of the approach, by bristling her silken hair and rounding her flapping ears, while she barked long and loudly at the unusual arrival.
The Buccaneer shaded his eyes with his hand and looked out. Robin jerked his hat a little more on one side, while Barbara drew the Flanders lace of her silken hood more closely round her face.
"It is a Court Cavalier," exclaimed Master Hays, as he was respectfully termed by his associates, "with two attendants and a dog; beshrew me! but a noble dog from foreign parts; some friend of our kind master is that gentleman. One would think he was reconnoitring, so earnestly does he look out from place to place. Father," he continued, drawing towards Dalton, "do you note how he peers out yonder, towards where once—you understand me——"
"I do," replied the old man, "I do note it; and I note also that yon same Cavalier is no other than one we both knew well. There! he sees us—his hat is off—he hails us right joyfully. Know you not the bold brow, and the bright eye—blue, blue as the waters and the heavens he has so long looked upon? Off with ye'r hats, my boys," he added to the children; "and, Robin, is yours nailed to your head, that it answers not his signal?—it is the young sea captain of whom, even here, we have heard and read so much. It is Springall!"