"Zounds, sir," he said as they went out, "that a chield with such a black beard should have no more heart than a hen-partridge. Come on wi' ye, like a frank fellow, once and for all!"
The voices died away, the clatter of horses' hoofs was heard, and after a few kindly words from the Justice, Diana and Frank set out on their way home. On the road they met Clerk Jobson returning in great haste and in a most villanous temper. The will-making, even the illness of Gaffer Rutledge, had proved to be a "bam," that is to say, a hoax. The clerk's language became so impertinent towards Miss Vernon, that, if she had not prevented him, Frank would certainly have broken the rascal's head.
The revel was in full swing at Osbaldistone Hall when they returned. So for the sake of peace Diana ordered some dinner to be brought to them in the library. This was a large neglected room, walled about with great books, into which hardly any of the Osbaldistones ever came, and which accordingly Diana had appropriated as her peculiar sanctum.
To this chamber Rashleigh Osbaldistone penetrated after dinner had been removed. He came to explain the events of the day, but except that he had met Campbell by chance, and that, having learned that he had been an eye-witness to the robbery, he had sent him on to Squire Inglewood's, there was not much more that he seemed inclined to reveal.
Afterwards, however, in his own room, Rashleigh became more communicative. He desired to know what kind of man Frank's father was, with whom in future he was to be placed. And in return for this information he told Frank what he wished to know as to Diana Vernon. She was, said Rashleigh, to marry Thorncliff, according to a family compact of long standing. But he intimated in addition that she would greatly have preferred himself, and that, indeed, he had withdrawn from the care of her studies on account of the too evident affection she had begun to show towards one, who, as a son of the church, was destined never to marry.
This information rankled in Frank's mind, and all the next day he was sullen and even brutal in his manner towards Miss Vernon. But she did not grow angry, and merely left him to fill up the measure of his folly—which he presently did by an affray with Rashleigh and his other cousins over the wine-cups in the evening, in which swords were drawn and blows given.
The next morning, however, Miss Vernon called him to account.
"Upon my word, Mr. Francis Osbaldistone," she said, seating herself in one of the great chairs in the library, like a judge upon the bench, "your character improves upon us. Last night's performance was a masterpiece. You contrived to exhibit in the course of one evening all the various qualifications of your several cousins—the gentle and generous temper of Rashleigh, the temperance of Percie, the cool courage of Thorncliff, John's skill in dog-breaking, Dickon's aptitude for betting—all these were exhibited by the same Mr. Francis, and with a choice of time and place worthy of the taste and sagacity of Wilfred."
Frank expressed his shame and sorrow as best he could. He had been troubled, he said, by some information that he had received.
Instantly Miss Vernon took him up.