"Not directly," replied the colonel. "His father, Sir Randolph, who was friendly to the Hanoverian succession, was alive then, and he did not dare to offend him."
"I thought the Rawcliffes were a Roman Catholic family?" remarked Dr. Deacon.
"Sir Randolph abjured the faith of his fathers," said Colonel Townley; "and his elder son, Oswald, was likewise a renegade. Sir Richard, of whom we are now speaking, succeeded his brother Sir Oswald on the failure of the heir."
"It has never been positively proved that the heir is dead," observed Dr. Byrom. "Sir Oswald Rawcliffe married the beautiful Henrietta Conway, and had a son by her, who was carried off while an infant in a most mysterious manner, and has never been heard of since. This happened in '24, but I cannot help thinking the true heir to Rawcliffe Hall may yet be found."
"Meantime, Sir Richard is in possession of the title and property," said Colonel Townley.
As he spoke, the door was opened by the landlord, who ushered in a tall personage, whom he announced as Sir Richard Rawcliffe.
Bowing to the company, all of whom rose on his entrance, Sir Richard sprang forward to meet Colonel Townley, and a hearty greeting passed between them.
It would have been difficult to determine the new-comer's age, but he was not fifty, though he looked much older. His features were handsome, but strongly marked, and had a sombre expression, which, however, disappeared when he was animated by converse. His eyes were dark and penetrating, and overhung by thick black brows. His pallid complexion and care-worn looks seemed to denote that he was out of health. Altogether, it was a face that could not be regarded without interest. He wore a dark riding-dress, with boots drawn above the knee. A black peruke descended over his shoulders, and a sword hung by his side.
Habitually, Sir Richard Rawcliffe's manner was haughty, but he was extremely affable towards the present company, expressing himself delighted to meet Dr. Byrom again. Towards Dr. Deacon he was almost deferential.
While they were exchanging civilities, Diggles, the landlord, re-appeared with a fresh bottle of claret and clean glasses; and bumpers being filled, Colonel Townley called out, "Here's to our master's health!"