“A decidedly bad man,” continued the old gentleman, not noticing the interruption, “a thorough rascal, a smuggler, and a drunkard, and—”
“Hold, sir!” cried the youth sternly, as he stopped and faced the old gentleman, “remember that you speak of my relative. Had you been a younger man, sir—”
Again the youth paused abruptly.
“Go on, sir,” said the old gentleman ironically, “you would have pommelled me to a jelly with your cudgel, I suppose; is that it?—acting somewhat in the spirit of your kinsman, that same smuggling and tippling old scoundrel, who—”
“Enough, sir,” interrupted the young man angrily; “we part company here.”
So saying, he vaulted over the wall that separated the road from the moor, and hurried away.
“Take the first turn to the left, and keep straight on, else you’ll lose yourself aga-a-a-in,” roared the old gentleman, “and my compliments to the rascally old smugg–le–e–r–r!”
“The old scoundrel!” muttered the youth as he hurried away.
“The young puppy!” growled the old gentleman as he jogged along. “Given to smuggling and the bottle indeed—humph! the excitable jackanapes! But I’ve given him a turn in the wrong direction that will cool his blood somewhat, and give me leisure to cool mine too, before we meet again.”
Here the old gentleman’s red countenance relaxed into a broad grin, and he chuckled a good deal, in the midst of a running commentary on the conduct and appearance of his late companion, from the disjointed sentences of which it might have been gathered that although his introduction to the young doctor had been unfortunate, and the succeeding intercourse stormy, his opinion of him was not altogether unfavourable.