Hugh nodded, and touching his cap with an air of as
much respect as he could summon up, departed.
Sir John, fastening the doors behind him, went back
to his dressing-room, and sat down once again before
the fire, at which he gazed for a long time, in earnest
meditation.
‘This happens fortunately,’ he said, breaking
into a smile, ’and promises well. Let me
see. My relative and I, who are the most Protestant
fellows in the world, give our worst wishes to the
Roman Catholic cause; and to Saville, who introduces
their bill, I have a personal objection besides; but
as each of us has himself for the first article in
his creed, we cannot commit ourselves by joining with
a very extravagant madman, such as this Gordon most
undoubtedly is. Now really, to foment his disturbances
in secret, through the medium of such a very apt instrument
as my savage friend here, may further our real ends;
and to express at all becoming seasons, in moderate
and polite terms, a disapprobation of his proceedings,
though we agree with him in principle, will certainly
be to gain a character for honesty and uprightness
of purpose, which cannot fail to do us infinite service,
and to raise us into some importance. Good!
So much for public grounds. As to private considerations,
I confess that if these vagabonds would make
some riotous demonstration (which does not appear impossible),
and would inflict some little chastisement on
Haredale as a not inactive man among his sect, it
would be extremely agreeable to my feelings, and would
amuse me beyond measure. Good again! Perhaps
better!’
When he came to this point, he took a pinch of snuff;
then beginning slowly to undress, he resumed his meditations,
by saying with a smile:
’I fear, I do fear exceedingly, that my
friend is following fast in the footsteps of his mother.
His intimacy with Mr Dennis is very ominous.
But I have no doubt he must have come to that end any
way. If I lend him a helping hand, the only difference
is, that he may, upon the whole, possibly drink a
few gallons, or puncheons, or hogsheads, less in this
life than he otherwise would. It’s no business
of mine. It’s a matter of very small importance!’
So he took another pinch of snuff, and went to bed.
From the workshop of the Golden Key, there issued
forth a tinkling sound, so merry and good-humoured,
that it suggested the idea of some one working blithely,
and made quite pleasant music. No man who hammered
on at a dull monotonous duty, could have brought such
cheerful notes from steel and iron; none but a chirping,
healthy, honest-hearted fellow, who made the best
of everything, and felt kindly towards everybody,
could have done it for an instant. He might have
been a coppersmith, and still been musical. If
he had sat in a jolting waggon, full of rods of iron,
it seemed as if he would have brought some harmony
out of it.
