This eBook was produced by Pat Castevens
and David WidgeR
I was always an early riser. Happy the man who is! Every morning, daycomes to him with a virgin's love, full of bloom and purity andfreshness. The youth of Nature is contagious, like the gladness of ahappy child. I doubt if any man can be called "old" so long as he is anearly riser and an early walker. And oh, youth!—take my word of it—youth in dressing-gown and slippers, dawdling over breakfast at noon, isa very decrepit, ghastly image of that youth which sees the sun blushover the mountains, and the dews sparkle upon blossoming hedgerows.
Passing by my father's study, I was surprised to see the windowsunclosed; surprised more, on looking in, to see him bending over hisbooks,—for I had never before known him study till after the morningmeal. Students are not usually early risers, for students, alas!whatever their age, are rarely young. Yes, the Great Book must begetting on in serious earnest. It was no longer dalliance withlearning; this was work.
I passed through the gates into the road. A few of the cottages weregiving signs of returning life, but it was not yet the hour for labor,and no "Good morning, sir," greeted me on the road. Suddenly at a turn,which an over-hanging beech-tree had before concealed, I came full uponmy Uncle Roland.
"What! you, sir? So early? Hark, the clock is striking five!"
"Not later! I have walked well for a lame man. It must be more thanfour miles to—and back."
"You have been to—? Not on business? No soul would be up."
"Yes, at inns there is always some one up. Hostlers never sleep! Ihave been to order my humble chaise and pair. I leave you today,nephew."
"Ah, uncle, we have offended you! It was my folly, that cursed print—"
"Pooh!" said my uncle, quickly. "Offended me, boy? I defy you!" and hepressed my hand roughly.
"Yet this sudden determination! It was but yesterday, at the Roman
Camp, that you planned an excursion with my father, to C——— Castle."
"Never depend upon a whimsical man. I must be in London tonight."
"And return to-morrow?"
"I know not when," said my uncle, gloomily; and he was silent for somemoments. At length, leaning less lightly on my arm, he continued:"Young man, you have pleased me. I love that open, saucy brow of yours,on which Nature has written 'Trust me.' I love those clear eyes, thatlook one manfully in the face. I must know more of you—much of you.You must come and see me some day or other in your ancestors' ruinedkeep."
"Come! that I will. And you shall show me the old tower—"
"And the traces of the outworks!" cried my uncle, flourishing his stick.
"And the pedigree—"
"Ay, and your great-great-grandfather's armor, which he wore at Marston
Moor—"
"Yes, and the brass plate in the church, uncle."
"The deuce is in the boy! Come here, come here: I've three minds tobreak your head, sir!"
"It is a pity somebody had not broken the rascally printer's, before hehad the impudence to disgrace us by having a family, uncle."
Captain Roland tried hard to frown, but he could not. "Pshaw!" said he,stopping, and taking snuff. "The world of the dead is wide; why shouldthe ghosts jostle us?"
"We can never escape the