“Heaven help us, Mr. Cuddle!” exclaimed Norman, “Are'ee mad, sir, or how?”
“Why, nipperkins! Norman, is it you?”
“Ay, truly.”
“And how got you here?—I thought nothing had passed me on the road. Where are you going, honest Norman?”
“Going!—I be going no-where,” replied the gate-keeper; “I be here, where you left me. Why, doant'ee know, that you ha' been working round and round, just like a horse in a mill?—And after all this helter-skelter work, here you be, just where you were!”
“D—n the spectacles, then!” said Cuddle; “and confound all innovators!—Why couldn't they let the country alone?—I've taken the wrong turning, I suppose?”
“Yeas,—I reckon't must be summat o' that kind:—there be four to the right, out o' the strait road, across the common; the three first do bring'ee round this way, t'other takes'ee home:—but, odds! Muster Cuddle! do'ee get off!—Here be a girth broke,—and t'other as old as my hat, and half worn through, as'tis.—Oh! you must go back; you must, truly, go back to the stables, and put the tackle in order.”
Cuddle seemed rather loath to return, but old Norman was inflexible: he led the horse inside the gate, which he safely locked, and put the key in his pocket, and then hobbled along, by the side of Caddy, toward the stables. As he passed the outer door of the house, he whispered to the porter, his fears for Cuddle's safety, if he were suffered to depart again, and begged that the porter would contrive to let his master be made acquainted with the circumstance of Caddy's ride.
The information was immediately conveyed to the dining-room, and half-a-dozen gentlemen, with the Honourable Charles Caddy at their head, immediately proceeded to the stables, where they found Cuddle, perspiring very copiously, and endeavouring to obtain information for his guidance, in his contemplated journey, from those, who were, from the same cause, as incapable of giving, as Cuddle was of following, correct directions. The Honourable Charles Caddy, in spite of his good breeding, could not help laughing, when he heard Cuddle's account of the affair; but he very judiciously insisted on Cuddle's remaining at the Castle until morning. Caddy vowed that he would acquiesce only on one condition; which was, that a servant should be immediately dispatched to his cottage, to allay the fears of Mrs. Watermark; and that such servant should be specially enjoined, not to blab a word of his mishap, to the good old gentlewoman. “If he should,” said Cuddle, “Mrs. Watermark will be terrified, and we shall have her here before morning, even if she walk all the way.”
It was in vain that the Honourable Charles Caddy and his visitors entreated Caddy Cuddle to return to the table; he preferred retiring to rest at once. “You must put up with one of the ancient bed-rooms, cousin Cuddle,” said the Honourable Charles Caddy; “but you fear no ghosts, I apprehend?”