Then, with such a throb of the heart as one experiences on stepping across the threshold of the unknown, doubtful of what one may find on the other side, our young gentleman stepped across the threshold of Rockmount and heard the bolts and bars of the great door shot one by one behind him.
[CHAPTER III.]
MR. ELLERSLIE OF ROCKMOUNT.
Having resumed possession of his candlestick, the old serving-man, whose face wore a sour and suspicious look, beckoned Mr. Jack, and, leading the way, presently threw open a door at the end of a corridor, and ushered him into a spacious panelled room, in the grate of which a cosy fire was burning.
"Supper's bein' got ready, sir, and will be served in the course of a few minutes," said the man, and with that he lighted a couple of wax candles on the centre table and two more over the chimney-piece. Then he stirred up the fire to a blaze and hobbled out of the room without a word more.
Mr. Jack's first action was to relieve himself of his sodden cloak, which he laid over the back of a chair. That done, he spread his chilled fingers to the blaze, and proceeded to take stock of his surroundings.
This was soon done, for the room held nothing calculated to arrest his attention or excite his curiosity. It was sparsely furnished, and its few chairs and tables, together with the bureau in one corner, although of choice workmanship, were all venerable with age. Carpet and hearthrug alike were faded and in places worn threadbare. Of pictures or ornaments of any kind, except for a small malachite vase on the chimney-piece, the room was wholly destitute. Judging from appearances, it seemed clear that the master of Rockmount was not a wealthy man.
Scarcely had Mr. Jack concluded his survey before the door was opened, and in came a middle-aged woman, carrying a supper-tray, which she proceeded to deposit on a centre table, and then wheeled the latter nearer the fire. The tray proved to contain a cold fowl, some slices of ham, butter, cheese, bread, and a bottle of claret. To our young friend, ravenously hungry and chilled to the marrow, it seemed a supper fit for the gods.
"Will you please to ring, sir, when you are ready for your coffee?" said the woman. And then he was left alone.
Not till half an hour had gone by did he ring the bell, by which time his spirits had gone up several degrees. Intensely chagrined though he was by his failure to secure that for which he had risked so much, there was a relish about his adventure which he appreciated to the full, which appealed at once to his imagination and to the unconventional side of a character which had often vainly beat itself against the restrictions and restraints by which it was environed. He felt that to-night was a night to have lived for. It would dwell freshly in his memory to the last day of his life. For the space of one hour and a half he had been hand-and-glove with Captain Nightshade, the most redoubtable highwayman in all the North Country; and if some people might think that was nothing to be proud of, it was at any rate something to remember. Whether he was proud of it or no, he was conscious of a secret sense of elation, into the origin of which he had no wish to inquire. He only knew that he would not have foregone the night's experiences for a great deal.