But she was to be no more exercised;for Mr.Archer,disclaiming any thought of flattery,turned off to other subjects,and held her all through the wood in conversation,addressing her with an air of perfect sincerity,and listening to her answers with every mark of interest.Had open flattery continued,Nance would have soon found refuge in good sense;but the more subtle lure she could not suspect,much less avoid.It was the first time she had ever taken part in a conversation illuminated by any ideas.All was then true that she had heard and dreamed of gentlemen;they were a race apart,like deities knowing good and evil.
And then there burst upon her soul a divine thought,hope's glorious sunrise:since she could understand,since it seemed that she too,even she,could interest this sorrowful Apollo,might she not learn?or was she not learning?Would not her soul awake and put forth wings?Was she not,in fact,an enchanted princess,waiting but a touch to become royal?She saw herself transformed,radiantly attired,but in the most exquisite taste:her face grown longer and more refined;her tint etherealised;and she heard herself with delighted wonder talking like a book.
Meanwhile they had arrived at where the track comes out above the river dell,and saw in front of them the castle,faintly shadowed on the night,covering with its broken battlements a bold projection of the bank,and showing at the extreme end,where were the habitable tower and wing,some crevices of candle-light.Hence she called loudly upon her uncle,and he was seen to issue,lantern in hand,from the tower door,and,where the ruins did not intervene,to pick his way over the swarded courtyard,avoiding treacherous cellars and winding among blocks of fallen masonry.The arch of the great gate was still entire,flanked by two tottering bastions,and it was here that Jonathan met them,standing at the edge of the bridge,bent somewhat forward,and blinking at them through the glow of his own lantern.Mr.Archer greeted him with civility;but the old man was in no humour of compliance.He guided the new-comer across the court-yard,looking sharply and quickly in his face,and grumbling all the time about the cold,and the discomfort and dilapidation of the castle.He was sure he hoped that Mr.Archer would like it;but in truth he could not think what brought him there.Doubtless he had a good reason -this with a look of cunning scrutiny -but,indeed,the place was quite unfit for any person of repute;he himself was eaten up with the rheumatics.It was the most rheumaticky place in England,and some fine day the whole habitable part (to call it habitable)would fetch away bodily and go down the slope into the river.He had seen the cracks widening;there was a plaguy issue in the bank below;he thought a spring was mining it;it might be tomorrow,it might be next day;but they were all sure of a come-down sooner or later.'And that is a poor death,'said he,'for any one,let alone a gentleman,to have a whole old ruin dumped upon his belly.Have a care to your left there;these cellar vaults have all broke down,and the grass and hemlock hide 'em.Well,sir,here is welcome to you,such as it is,and wishing you well away.'
And with that Jonathan ushered his guest through the tower door,and down three steps on the left hand into the kitchen or common room of the castle.It was a huge,low room,as large as a meadow,occupying the whole width of the habitable wing,with six barred windows looking on the court,and two into the river valley.A dresser,a table,and a few chairs stood dotted here and there upon the uneven flags.Under the great chimney a good fire burned in an iron fire-basket;a high old settee,rudely carved with figures and Gothic lettering,flanked it on either side;there was a hinge table and a stone bench in the chimney corner,and above the arch hung guns,axes,lanterns,and great sheaves of rusty keys.
Jonathan looked about him,holding up the lantern,and shrugged his shoulders,with a pitying grimace.'Here it is,'he said.'See the damp on the floor,look at the moss;where there's moss you may be sure that it's rheumaticky.
Try and get near that fire for to warm yourself;it'll blow the coat off your back.And with a young gentleman with a face like yours,as pale as a tallow-candle,I'd be afeard of a churchyard cough and a galloping decline,'says Jonathan,naming the maladies with gloomy gusto,'or the cold might strike and turn your blood,'he added.
Mr.Archer fairly laughed.'My good Mr.Holdaway,'said he,'I was born with that same tallow-candle face,and the only fear that you inspire me with is the fear that I intrude unwelcomely upon your private hours.But I think I can promise you that I am very little troublesome,and I am inclined to hope that the terms which I can offer may still pay you the derangement.'
'Yes,the terms,'said Jonathan,'I was thinking of that.As you say,they are very small,'and he shook his head.
'Unhappily,I can afford no more,'said Mr.Archer.'But this we have arranged already,'he added with a certain stiffness;'and as I am aware that Miss Holdaway has matter to communicate,I will,if you permit,retire at once.To-night I must bivouac;to-morrow my trunk is to follow from the "Dragon."So if you will show me to my room I shall wish you a good slumber and a better awakening.'
Jonathan silently gave the lantern to Nance,and she,turning and curtseying in the doorway,proceeded to conduct their guest up the broad winding staircase of the tower.He followed with a very brooding face.
