Jack’s Journey to Stourbridge, and Adventures on the Road.
Jack, when he placed his head on his pillow the last night before leaving home, fully expected to awake of his own accord the following morning; but for several hours sleep did not visit his eyelids; and when at length he opened them, he saw his eldest sister Kate leaning over him. She had been watching for some time his youthful face, which even in sleep bore so determined an expression, while the brown, strong hand outside the counterpane looked well fitted for any work he might undertake.
“Jack,” she said, “you did not answer, dear brother, when I knocked at the door, and I was afraid you would over-sleep yourself: besides, I want to have a few words with you which I had no opportunity of speaking last night. Brother, you are going into a world where, although there is some good, I am afraid there is a great deal of evil, and treachery, and deceit. Though you have done wild and thoughtless things, still you know what is right, and I am sure you wish to follow it. But, dear Jack, I know you better than perhaps you know yourself. Do not trust to your own good intentions. You may think now that nothing will tempt you to do what is wrong, but remember that Satan is always going about to lead us away from the right course; therefore, Jack, I want you to look to your Bible to learn how you ought to walk, and then to pray to God that He will, by His Holy Spirit, enable you to walk aright. Here is a Bible, Jack, and I hope you will take it with you; but I must not preach more. I see you have a letter from Mr Strelley to Mr Gournay at Norwich. You know that our friend Giles Dainsforth is staying with him, and I must tell you, Jack, what I have never told you before, that I have promised to become his wife, if our father and mother will give their consent. He has not as yet much worldly wealth, but he is steady and industrious, and that will come in good time; only I want you to speak to him, and hear what he has got to say to you. It will not be time lost to you: of that I am sure. You will tell him all about us, and should he not be at home, you will make a point of trying to find him, will you not, Jack?”
As she spoke, she imprinted a kiss on her brother’s brow.
“And now I will go down-stairs and get your breakfast ready. May God ever be with you, my dear brother!”
While Jack was dressing, he received a visit from his brother Jasper, who had some kind words and good advice also to give him. Although the brothers were on the best of terms, they associated very little with each other, their habits and amusements being very different. Still, Jack admired and respected Jasper for his talents, his amiable disposition, and his refined manners, though he felt little disposed to imitate the latter. Jasper had been away at the time Jack paid his farewell visit to Harwood Grange, and whether he admired Alethea or not, he at all events showed no jealousy of his brother, or annoyance at his having been there without him.
Polly’s farewell was even more hearty than that of her brother and sister. Her parting salute was a slap on the back, in return for some words which he whispered in her ear, and a glance of pride, perhaps, as she saw the good figure he cut, equipped in his horseman’s suit and thoroughly prepared for the road.
His parents gave him their blessing, but the manner of his father especially was somewhat cold, and showed him that the old gentleman had not altogether got over his dislike to the calling he had resolved to follow.
In a few minutes more, mounted on a stout cob, with a serviceable pair of pistols in his holsters, he was jogging along the road to Cambridge by the side of Master Brinsmead, accompanied by an ample number of drovers in charge of one of the largest droves of cattle which had for some time past left the Trent valley. It may easily be imagined that such a journey, begun in summer time, continued at short stages, with frequent delays at towns, and lonely inns, and farm-houses, was full of interest to Jack, who had only made one short trip of the sort before. The long droves of cattle went slowly along the roads, which in most places were little better than causeways roughly raised from the mud that lay on either side in bad weather. Even the best highways were allowed to fall into a miserable condition, so that carriages could with difficulty traverse them, except in the immediate neighbourhood of London and some of the larger cities. The hedge-rows every where afforded ample shade, and the wide green margins of the lanes gave space for the herd to lie down during the heat of the day. At such times Jack would pursue his beloved sport of angling—for he was never willing to be idle—and many a delicious repast of trout, and chub, and barbel did he broil over the drovers’ gipsy fire. On such occasions Will Brinsmead seldom failed to bring forth his well-worn Bible, or his beloved Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress,” from which, lying down with his elbow on the grass, he would read half aloud to himself, raising his voice if he saw any one approaching near enough to listen. Jack was frequently among Brinsmead’s auditors.
These quiet rests were generally succeeded by the bustle which was to be found in the various towns and markets through which they passed; but though for the moment the impressions received appear to have worn off, in after-years Jack remembered his old friend’s quaint remarks with no small amount of satisfaction and profit.