Kenelm Chillingly — Complete eBook

KENELM CHILLINGLY had quitted the paternal home at daybreak before any of the household was astir.  “Unquestionably,” said he, as he walked along the solitary lanes,—­“unquestionably I begin the world as poets begin poetry, an imitator and a plagiarist.  I am imitating an itinerant verse-maker, as, no doubt, he began by imitating some other maker of verse.  But if there be anything in me, it will work itself out in original form.  And, after all, the verse-maker is not the inventor of ideas.  Adventure on foot is a notion that remounts to the age of fable.  Hercules, for instance; that was the way in which he got to heaven, as a foot-traveller.  How solitary the world is at this hour!  Is it not for that reason that this is of all hours the most beautiful?”

Here he paused, and looked around and above.  It was the very height of summer.  The sun was just rising over gentle sloping uplands.  All the dews on the hedgerows sparkled.  There was not a cloud in the heavens.  Up rose from the green blades of corn a solitary skylark.  His voice woke up the other birds.  A few minutes more and the joyous concert began.  Kenelm reverently doffed his hat, and bowed his head in mute homage and thanksgiving.

CHAPTER II.

ABOUT nine o’clock Kenelm entered a town some twelve miles distant from his father’s house, and towards which he had designedly made his way, because in that town he was scarcely if at all known by sight, and he might there make the purchases he required without attracting any marked observation.  He had selected for his travelling costume a shooting-dress, as the simplest and least likely to belong to his rank as a gentleman.  But still in its very cut there was an air of distinction, and every labourer he had met on the way had touched his hat to him.  Besides, who wears a shooting-dress in the middle of June, or a shooting-dress at all, unless he be either a game-keeper or a gentleman licensed to shoot?

Kenelm entered a large store-shop for ready-made clothes and purchased a suit such as might be worn on Sundays by a small country yeoman or tenant-farmer of a petty holding,—­a stout coarse broadcloth upper garment, half coat, half jacket, with waistcoat to match, strong corduroy trousers, a smart Belcher neckcloth, with a small stock of linen and woollen socks in harmony with the other raiment.  He bought also a leathern knapsack, just big enough to contain this wardrobe, and a couple of books, which with his combs and brushes he had brought away in his pockets; for among all his trunks at home there was no knapsack.

These purchases made and paid for, he passed quickly through the town, and stopped at a humble inn at the outskirt, to which he was attracted by the notice, “Refreshment for man and beast.”  He entered a little sanded parlour, which at that hour he had all to himself, called for breakfast, and devoured the best part of a fourpenny loaf with a couple of hard eggs.