John Deane of Nottingham: Historic Adventures by Land and Sea

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Deane could not help feeling puzzled at times at the caution his companion considered necessary to use. Still, so little accustomed was he to the world, that it did not occur to him that he was otherwise than a respectable character, with whom he was perfectly safe in consorting. He paced the room without finding any thing to amuse himself with. Not a book on a shelf, nor a picture on the wall. A sanded floor, a dark oak table, several benches, a chair of large proportions, used probably for the president at clubs of convivial meetings; with a few of smaller size, completed the furniture of the oak-wainscoted room. He was not, however, kept very long before Pearson returned, telling him that he had procured a horse on which his saddle was to be placed; and Jack, going out into the stable-yard, found a man leading up and down a fine, strongly-built steed, which, if not possessing all the points of which Pearson’s own horse could boast, was evidently an animal well capable of performing a rapid and long journey at a stretch.

“The account is settled; and now let us mount and be off,” said Pearson, throwing himself into his saddle, and, having whispered a few words into the ears of their ill-favoured host, he put spurs to his horse, and with Jack by his side quickly left the village behind. Jack was highly pleased with the paces of his new acquisition, and soon saw that he should be able to push on over the ground at far greater speed than when he had his own steady-going nag under him. In a short time, coming to a fine open, grassy piece of land, he could not resist the temptation of putting spurs to the animal’s side, and starting off for a gallop. Pearson shouted after him to stop; but Jack found it no easy matter to rein in his steed. On turning his head, he found that the drover was following him; and, though he fancied that he himself was going at full gallop, his companion was quickly alongside him.

“That is very like a young man, but not the act of a wise one!” said Pearson. “You should always keep your horse’s strength for an emergency on a long journey. His limbs are supple enough, I’ll warrant; there was no necessity for trying them just now.”

“I could not help it,” said Jack, tugging at the same time at the rein. “The animal has mettle enough for any thing, I should think.”

“I see that I must help you,” said Pearson, “or you will not bring that animal up in a hurry, till you have well-nigh sawn his mouth in two. So-ho! Rover!” he cried out, adding a few cabalistical-sounding words.

In an instant the animal threw himself on his haunches, so suddenly indeed, as nearly to unseat his rider. He was too good a horseman though to be played such a trick.

“The beast is no stranger to you, Master Pearson,” he observed.

“No; he has carried me over many a mile,” was the answer. “I would not wish to put you on an animal I had not tried. And now we will make play over this ground, though at more moderate speed than you were going at just now.”

They found accommodation for the night in a small roadside inn. On the next day, when passing through Grantham, as the travellers were approaching the open square of the market-place, they observed a large crowd collected round a person elevated above their heads on the top of a huge cask or table, so it appeared. He was throwing out his arms in every direction. Now pressing his hands together, now lifting them towards heaven in the attitude of prayer. Most of his auditors seemed to be listening to him with rapt attention. As they drew nearer, Jack, on looking at the countenance of the speaker, was convinced that it was no other than the Independent preacher whom he had met in company with Master Pearson. From the words which fell from his mouth it was difficult to ascertain what principles he was inculcating. He was speaking at the moment of some wonderful dream with which he had been favoured by Heaven. He was warning the people of the dreadful calamities which he knew, in consequence of what he had seen in his vision, were about to fall upon the land. He seemed, however, to be dealing out tolerably even-handed justice towards all other denominations. He had nothing in its favour to say of Protestant Episcopacy, and as little of Romanism. He was hurling abuse at Presbyterianism, and warning the Independents that their day of grace had passed, that they were no longer holding up a standard in Israel, while he condemned the Baptists for maintaining unscriptural doctrines.

“Woe! woe! woe!” he shouted, “woe to this country! woe to this people! Listen, ye stiff-necked and stubborn generation! A new revelation is about to be vouchsafed to you; will you receive it, or will you refuse it? Those who are ready to receive it will hold up their hands, and shout with joy at the thoughts of their emancipation from the slavery under which ye have hitherto groaned in the bonds of bitterness and the darkness of despair! Those who have made up their minds not to receive it must take their departure from among us, and go back to the place whence they came, there to await till summoned to go down into the pit full of fire and brimstone, already boiling up to welcome them!”