The old couple continued to cast somewhat doubtful glances at Jack.
“Have no fear,” said Burdale; “he is of the right sort, and no risk of his peaching, even if he did find out any thing he should not know.”
With this assurance, as soon as Jack dismounted, the old man took his horse, and accompanied Burdale round the tower to the stables. The dame, meantime, beckoned to Jack to follow her. A flight of dilapidated stone steps led them up to the entrance-hall, which occupied the whole of one floor of the tower. A rough stair led to another floor above it; and Jack observed the top of a flight of steps of more pretensions, descending apparently to chambers below.
“Sit down, young sir,” said the dame, pointing to an old oak chair. “Thou wilt be hungry after thy long ride; and I will prepare a steak for you and Ned Burdale.”
The view from the window of the tower was confined on all sides by the forest, through which, however, here and there glades opened out for some distance, up which, in former days, the deer were accustomed to sweep by, and afford an opportunity to fair dames and lords to exercise their skill with their fowling-pieces. Already the sun was sinking beneath the tops of the trees; and Jack began to fear that he should not have time to reach Harwood Grange before the night altogether closed in. He waited impatiently, therefore, for the return of Burdale, purposing to set off immediately his horse should have had its food and enjoyed a short rest. His companion, however, was longer than he expected, and by the time he arrived the meal prepared by the old dame was almost ready.
“Take my advice,” said Burdale: “remain here quietly to-night, and to-morrow you will be able to visit the Grange, and give our horses sufficient time to rest, that we may continue our journey into Lincolnshire. The distance from this to the Grange is far greater than you suppose: you could not reach it till an hour or more after dark, and you would scarcely be able to find your way back through the forest by yourself.”
Unwilling as Jack was to give up his purpose of paying a visit to his friends that evening, he was compelled to comply with his companion’s wishes, for Burdale gave him to understand very clearly that he had no intention of accompanying him. A substantial meal of venison-steaks, wheaten bread, and oaten cakes, to which Jack was nothing loath to do ample justice, was soon placed on the table.
“Come, Master Rymer, you can find us a flagon of wine, too, and of the best, I know that,” said Burdale. “Come, man, rummage out your stores, you used not to be niggard of your liquor.”
The old man, after some hesitation, pretended or real, took a bunch of keys, and descended the stairs to the chamber beneath the hall. He soon returned with a flagon of wine, which his guests pronounced to be excellent. Burdale drank freely himself, and pressed Jack to imitate his example. Being generally temperate, Jack found at length that he had taken more wine than was his wont, and began to feel an unusual drowsiness stealing over him. The old couple kept up a conversation with Ned Burdale, seemingly somewhat indifferent of Jack’s presence. Now and then they addressed him.
“You belong to these parts, do you?” asked the old man, fixing his keen glance on Jack.