Shirley Charlotte BrontĂ« (free ebook reader for pc .txt) đ
- Author: Charlotte Brontë
Book online «Shirley Charlotte BrontĂ« (free ebook reader for pc .txt) đ». Author Charlotte BrontĂ«
âLet them alone, will ye, Moore? Do you promise that?â
âPromise! No. All I mean to say is, I shall give myself no particular trouble to catch them; but if one falls in my wayâ ââ
âYouâll snap him up, of course. Only you would rather they would do something worse than merely stop a wagon before you reckon with them. Well, weâll say no more on the subject at present. Here we are at my door, gentlemen, and I hope you and the men will step in. You will none of you be the worse of a little refreshment.â
Moore and Helstone opposed this proposition as unnecessary. It was, however, pressed on them so courteously, and the night, besides, was so inclement, and the gleam from the muslin-curtained windows of the house before which they had halted looked so inviting, that at length they yielded. Mr. Yorke, after having alighted from his gig, which he left in charge of a man who issued from an outbuilding on his arrival, led the way in.
It will have been remarked that Mr. Yorke varied a little in his phraseology. Now he spoke broad Yorkshire, and anon he expressed himself in very pure English. His manner seemed liable to equal alternations. He could be polite and affable, and he could be blunt and rough. His station then you could not easily determine by his speech and demeanour. Perhaps the appearance of his residence may decide it.
The men he recommended to take the kitchen way, saying that he would âsee them served wiâ summat to taste presently.â The gentlemen were ushered in at the front entrance. They found themselves in a matted hall, lined almost to the ceiling with pictures. Through this they were conducted to a large parlour, with a magnificent fire in the grateâ âthe most cheerful of rooms it appeared as a whole, and when you came to examine details, the enlivening effect was not diminished. There was no splendour, but there was taste everywhere, unusual tasteâ âthe taste, you would have said, of a travelled man, a scholar, and a gentleman. A series of Italian views decked the walls. Each of these was a specimen of true art. A connoisseur had selected them; they were genuine and valuable. Even by candlelight the bright clear skies, the soft distances, with blue air quivering between the eye and the hills, the fresh tints, and well-massed lights and shadows, charmed the view. The subjects were all pastoral, the scenes were all sunny. There was a guitar and some music on a sofa; there were cameos, beautiful miniatures; a set of Grecian-looking vases on the mantelpiece; there were books well arranged in two elegant bookcases.
Mr. Yorke bade his guests be seated. He then rang for wine. To the servant who brought it he gave hospitable orders for the refreshment of the men in the kitchen. The rector remained standing; he seemed not to like his quarters; he would not touch the wine his host offered him.
âEâen as you will,â remarked Mr. Yorke. âI reckon youâre thinking of Eastern customs, Mr. Helstone, and youâll not eat nor drink under my roof, feared we suld be forced to be friends; but I am not so particular or superstitious. You might sup the contents of that decanter, and you might give me a bottle of the best in your own cellar, and Iâd hold myself free to oppose you at every turn stillâ âin every vestry-meeting and justice-meeting where we encountered one another.â
âIt is just what I should expect of you, Mr. Yorke.â
âDoes it agree wiâ ye now, Mr. Helstone, to be riding out after rioters, of a wet night, at your age?â
âIt always agrees with me to be doing my duty; and in this case my duty is a thorough pleasure. To hunt down vermin is a noble occupation, fit for an archbishop.â
âFit for ye, at ony rate. But whereâs tâ curate? Heâs happen gone to visit some poor body in a sick gird, or heâs happen hunting down vermin in another direction.â
âHe is doing garrison-duty at Hollowâs Mill.â
âYou left him a sup oâ wine, I hope, Bobâ (turning to Mr. Moore), âto keep his courage up?â
He did not pause for an answer, but continued, quickly, still addressing Moore, who had thrown himself into an old-fashioned chair by the firesideâ ââMove it, Robert! Get up, my lad! That place is mine. Take the sofa, or three other chairs, if you will, but not this. It belangs to me, and nobâdy else.â
âWhy are you so particular to that chair, Mr. Yorke?â asked Moore, lazily vacating the place in obedience to orders.
âMy father war afore me, and thatâs all tâ answer I sall gie thee; and itâs as good a reason as Mr. Helstone can give for the main feck oâ his notions.â
âMoore, are you ready to go?â inquired the rector.
âNay; Robertâs not ready, or rather, Iâm not ready to part wiâ him. Heâs an ill lad, and wants correcting.â
âWhy, sir? What have I done?â
âMade thyself enemies on every hand.â
âWhat do I care for that? What difference does it make to me whether your Yorkshire louts hate me or like me?â
âAy, there it is. The lad is a makâ of an alien amang us. His father would never have talked iâ that way.â âGo back to Antwerp, where you were born and bred, mauvaise tĂȘte!â
âMauvaise tĂȘte vous-mĂȘme; je ne fais que mon devoir; quant Ă vos lourdauds de paysans, je mâen moque!â
âEn ravanche, mon garçon, nos lourdauds de paysans se moqueront de toi; sois en certain,â replied Yorke, speaking with nearly as pure a French accent as GĂ©rard Moore.
âCâest bon! câest bon! Et puisque cela mâest Ă©gal, que mes amis ne sâen inquiĂštent pas.â
âTes amis! OĂč sont-ils, tes amis?â
âJe fais Ă©cho, oĂč sont-ils? et je suis fort aise que lâĂ©cho seul y rĂ©pond. Au diable les amis! Je me souviens encore du moment
Comments (0)