y \ p J ^ -^ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/flitchofbaconorcOOainsrich FRONTISPIECE. TPIE FLITCH OF BACON OR U:t Custom of gunmoto A TALE OF ENGLISH HOME BY WILLIAM HARRISON jAINSWORTH '•Quern per Annum et Diem, sivc dormicntem, sive vigilantem, Conjugii sui non poenitneril Dkiniuuam ei ire liccat, et pa:uam viudicare." Z?e lardo ap. Prioratum Dtinmtiensem obtincudo. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY SIR JOHN GILCERT, RJL LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL GLAbGOW, MANCHiiSTER. AND NEW YORK AINSWORTH'S NOVELS. The Original Illustrated Edition^ with Steel Plates and Woodcuts, from Designs by George Cruikshank, Sir John Gilbert, R.A., II. K. Browne, and other A rtists. aur;ol. BOSCOBEL ; OR, THE ROVAL OLD ST. PAUL' OAK. CRICHTON. THE ELITCn OF BACON. GUY FAWKES. JACK SHEPPARD. THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. MESVYN CIJTHEROE. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. OVINGDEAN GRANGE. ROOKWOOD. THE SPENDTHRIFT. THE STAR CHAMBER. THE TOWER OF LONDON. WINDSOR CASTLE. TO THE I^SX>. CHEV^« & MADAME BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ As a record of rare conjugal attachment, this Tale may be appropriately inscribed to you, my good fnends; than whom I have never known a more fondly-united couple. Were I the Donor of the Flitch, I would bestow it upon you. As it is, I must content myself with oflfering you this simple Chronicle of a good old English Custom — something akin to which may, per- haps, exist in your kindly Fatherland. Accept it as a slight testimony of the great i-egard in which you are both held by Yours very sincerely, W. Harrison Ainsworth. Arundel Terrace, Brighton : May 1, 1854. PREFACE. " A.MONG the jocular tenures of England, none have been more talked of than the Bacon op Dunmow." So says Grose, and truly. The Dunmow Flitch has passed into a proverb. It is referred to by Chaucer, in a manner which proves that allusion to it wa.s as intelligible in his day, as it would be in our owu. The orighi of the memorable Custom, hitherto enve- loped in some obscurity, will be found fully explained in the course of this vei-acious history. Instituted by a Fitzwalter in the early part of the Thirteenth Centuiy. the Custom continued in force till the middle of the Eighteenth — the date of the following Tale. The last delivery of the Flitch occun*ed on the 20th June, 1751 ; and I possess a very curious print, quite Hogarth ian in its chai*acter, from a drawing taken on the spot by David Ogbome, representing (apparently with great accui*acy) the Ceremony and Procession on that occasion. This print has furnished me witli a few hints for my Story. A Custom, almost precisely similar to that of Dunmow, existed at Whichenoure, in StafTord^hiie, but is much less generally known. Pennant, who visited Whichenoure House in 17 SO, states, that it was " remarkable for the painted wooden Bacon Flitcli, still hung up over the hall chimney, in memory of the lingular tenure by which Sir Philip de Somervile, in the tiuie of Edward III., held the Manor." The OatL lan as follows : — " Hear ye, Sir Philip de Somervile, •ord of Whichenoure, maintainor and giver of thii Vi PREFACE. Bacon, that I, A., syth I wedded B., my wyfe, and Fyth I liad her in my kepyng and at wylle, by a Yere and a Daye after our Marryage, I would not have changed for none other, farer no fowler, richer ne powrer, ne for none other descended of gretter lynage, sleeping ne waking, at noo time ; and if the said B. were sole, and I sole, I would take her to be my wyfe before all the wymen of the worlde, of what condyiiiona soevere they be, good or evyle, as helpc me God, and hif Seyntys, and this flesh, and all fleshes." If the claimant were a " villeyn," corn and a cheese were given him in addition to the Flitch, and a horse was likewise pro- vided to take him out of the limits of the Manor— all the free tenants thereof conducting him on his waj' with " trompets, tabourets, and other manoir of myn- stralcie." In respect to the Whichenoure Flitch, Pennant remarks, that it has "remained untouched from the first century of its institution to the present;" adding, jocosely, " we are credibly informed, that the late and present worthy owners of the Manor were de- terred from entering into the holy state, from the dread of not obtaining a single rasher of their own bacon.*' Our Dunmow Flitch was in greater request. Despite the difficulties of the conditions annexed to the gift, it was thrice successfully claimed before the Dissolution of the Monasteries ; and thrice subsequently to that period. Of late years the Custom, I regret to say, has been discontinued. " Some persons having demanded the Flitch," observes Grose, "it has, as is said, been refused, probably from conjugal afiection not being now so rare as heretofore, or because qualification oaths are now supposed to be held less sacred." Many years ago I planned this Tale ; but it is only now that my long-meditated design has been accom' pliflhed. PAUT THE FIRST. ^t ^lir Inn at gunmflfo. FKOM WHICH IT MAY BE INFERRED THAT PERSE^'ERANC£ IH A GOOD CAUSE WILL MEET ITS REWARD. A GOOD Old Inn was the Dunmow Flitch. None better in Essex. The house had known better days, and wealthier inmates — tliough not merrier, perhaps — than it did, since it had come into the occupation of Jonas Nettle- bed : " Jovial Jonas,** as he called himself,^-or " Friar Bacon," as some of his customers styled him : and who, out of his exceeding love and respect for the time- honoured custom of the Manor of Dunmow, had adopted the Flitch as his sign, and underneath the great gilded daub, supposed to represent a side of fatted bacon, that hung before his door, had caused these lines to be written : Painted in gold, The Flitch behold, 01 fain'd Dunmow the boast ! Then here should call Fond couples all. And pledge it m a toast ! This sign caused much laughter, and provoked much rustic wit, chiefly at the landlord's expense; but as it i THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, lured mobt of the jesters into the house, it perfectly answered its purpose. Though Jovial Jonas had prospered in his calling, which he richly deserved to do, seeing that he brewed the best ale in Essex ; the one grand wish of his life was still ungratified, — namely, the possession of the Flitch — not metaphorically, but literally. He coveted the prize more than any other worldly honour, and though often disappointed, he had not given up the expectation of gaining it. Hitherto he had not been able to take the Oath pre- scribed by the Charter, which was rather strict in its conditions, requiring that any married couple claiming the Flitch, should swear that they had lived together in perfect amity for a Twelvemonth and a Day, and never for a single moment, whether sleeping or waking, in bed or at board, had repented them of their choice, or wished themselves asunder. This was more than Jonas could conscientiously affirm of any of his unions. Any, we say, for he had been thrice married, and in each instance the match was so ill-assorted, that both parties often sighed for freedom from their fetters. Jonas's first wife was a shrew, and never allowed him a moment's peace ; his second was soft-spoken enough, but a fad flirt, who drove him nearly distracted with jealoufiy ; and liis third cared more about the bottle than like did about him. Nothing daunted, and ani- mated by the same ambition as before, Jonas married again, in the full belief that this time his efibrt would be crowned with success. And the odds seemed now rather more in his favour, for his fourth wife, Nelly, was not only by far the prettiest of the bimch, but very amiable, and apparently very much attached to him. Moreover, Nelly was as anxious to gain the Flitch as her husband ; and that was something. The ivorst that could be said of her was, that she was a little disposed to coquetry, and liked flattery; "but rtiia,** Jonas said, "was quite natural in a pretty THE CUSTOM OP DUXMOW, 3 jronng womai)." As to her personal graces, he had been known to sum them up thus : — " There i& not too much of Nelly — not half so much as there was of my last wife, Chloe, — but, what there is, is good, and of the right sort. Her eyes are brighter than my first wife's, Kate — ^>'ou recollect Kate's black eyes, eh, neigh- bour ? — and her waist is trimmer, and her ankles neater than Jane's — ^ray second — ^you remember Jenny, neigh- bour — a fine woman, but rather too free in her manners — in shoit, Nelly's worth 'em all three put together. I'm a lucky man, neighbour — by the marry maskins ! I am. I envy no man his wife — ^not even you — and I care not if any man envies me, seeing Tm now as sure of the Flitch as I am that my name's Jonas — Jovial Jonas — ^ha ! ha ! I mean to claim it when the time of probation is over. So look out for I'are doings, neigh- bour — rare doings — ho ! ho !" Sam Orpint, the village chum to whom these remarks were addressed, though he agreed with the uxorious land- lord in his estimate of his wife's beauty, was by no means Ro sure that Jonas would win the prize. However, he kept his thoughts to himself, and merely nodded his head, as if in assent. He was married himself, and knew the diflBculties and dangers of the case. The claimant of the Flitch in expectation was by no means an ill-looking little fellow — in his own opinion. We are compelled to qualify the description, since most people thought him too short, too stout, too red in the gills, too pufly, too snub-nosed — ^too anything you pleaso — except too handsome. But Jonas viewed his own figure and face in the glass in a very different light, and thought himself an extremely personable man. He was rather a lady-killer too; persuading himself that the women doted upon him — and he had some show oi reason for the belief, since he had obtained four wives , but other explanations of his good luck had been given. Howbeit, he took considerable pains in the adornmer ^f his person; wore flowered waistcoats, and coats a 4 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, fihowy coloui ; was particular about the tie of his wig, and the nice sit of his hose. Nor could any innkeeper boast a whiter apron than he. In a conspicuous part of the house, placed there for the edification of his guests — ^for he knew it by heart himself — and fairly copied out and framed, was the Oath, administered to the claimants of the Flitch, which had always hitherto appeared so formidable to him, but which he now hoped to be able to enunciate ^vithout any omission, or the slightest mental reserva- tion. And as this singular formula will be frequently referred to in the course of our story, it may be here recited in full. V^)t ©atl^. You shall swear by Custom of Confession, That you ne'er made nuptial transgression ; Nor since you were married man and wife By household hrawls or contentious strife. Or otherwise at bed or at board Offended each other in deed or word : Or since the parish clerk said Ameu Wished yourselves unmarried again : Or in a Twelvemonth and a Day Repented not in thought any way ; But continued true and in desire As when you join'd hands in holy quire. If to these Conditions, without all fear, Of your own accord you will freely swear : A whole Gammon of Bacon you shall receive. And bear it hence with love and good leave ; For this is our Custom of Duumow well known : — Though the pleasure be ours, the Bacon's your own. No Brawls. No Regrets. No Transgressions. Con- stant Love and Devotion. Twelve Honeyed Moons ; and One Day over, to make all sure. The conditions were so hard, and so little applicable to the cases of mamed folk in general, and those of Dunmow in particular, that they were never accepted. An old custom this delivery of the FlitcL Its insti- tution is attributed to Sir Reginald Fitzwalter, who. THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. fl appearing in a rustic garb before the good Prior of the Convent of Diinmow, received a side of bacon from him as a reward of liis constancy. But this legend will be more fully narrated hereafter. The earliest claim on record was made in the seventh year of the reign of Edward the Fourth, and the guerdon of rare conjugal love and truth was bestowed upon Steven Samuel and his wife. Twice again in monkish times was the prize won : at long intervals indeed, for the second successful application occurred in the reign of Henry the Sixth, md the third at the commencement of the Eighth Harry's rule. But the good old custom was continued long after the dissolution of the monasteries: in fact, it could not be dispensed with, being part of the manorial tenure. A portion of the venerable fabric, which had once sheltered the old Augustine canons and their su- perior, was still standing; where those, who had lived and loved as few love and live, had come in days gone by, to make their claim, and hold themselves up as a bright example to their fellows : the very stones beneath the porch were left — sharp-pointed flints they were, and little worn — on which three proud and happy couples had knelt to verify their faith, and receive the priestly bene- diction and reward : the ancient and curiously-formed oak chair was still preserved in which those worthy folk had sat together, and thus placed had been borne upon men's shoulders round the precincts of the sacred edi- fice, to the sound of rebec, psaltery, and lut-e, and amidst joyous shouting from admiring crowds; the Flitch of Bacon being carried before them on a lofty pole. All these forms and ceremonies were yet ob- served, or ready to be observed, save that Squire Monk- bury, the present Lord of the Manor of Little Dunmow, together with his steward, Mr. Abel Roper, and other ofiicers, were substituted for the Prior and his white- robed brethren. But alack ! and well-a-day ! "Wedded love and faith would seem a fable. Only two more claims were made with success in two centuries. It was now the middle of the third — that is to say, in 1750 — r THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, and though a Flitch of Bacon was regularly salted and dried at Monkbury Place, and proclamation constantly made at the Court Baron of LittleDunmow that it waa ready for delivery — secunduin formam donationis — to iny applicants, on due fulfilment of the conditions Annexed to the gift — the prize was never won. The applicants were numerous, but the conditions were too hai'd. We have seen who conceived themselves entitled to the prize. Jonas and Nelly fully expected to be Number Six on the list of winners. Many years ago, the Old Inn had been the most im- portant habitation near Dunmow: in fact, the Hall. Abandoned by its owner. Sir Walter Fitzwalter, an eccentric personage, about whom strange tales were told, though none to the effect that he had much chance of gaining the Flitch, for indeed he behaved very cruelly to his lady, who destroyed herself, it was said; and in the end sold, and for an old song, for like most de- serted houses it was supposed to be haunted, and for some time no one would inhabit it ; it was, at last, converted into an inn, and was taken by Jonas Net- tlebed immediately after his first marriage. Of late years, the ghost of the unfortunate Lady Juga Fitzwalter (for she it was who was said to " walk at midnight") did not disturb the place so much as heretofore; but there was one particular room, in a deserted wing of the house, in which whoever slept was sure to be scared by a female figure in white. AVith this exception, the Old Inn was quiet and comfortable enough, and the general accommodation excellent. Good ale, clean sheets, civil host and buxom hostess ; what more could any reasonable traveller desii'e? Look at the old house. Assuredly, it is picturesque, and rich enough in elaborate architectural detail What a fine fa9ade it presents ! high roof, quaint gables, twisted chimneys, and bay-windows, still fiill of stained glass. And what a large and hospitable porch ! Note those noble ehn-trees growing near it To aa THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. T arm of one of the largest of them is siispcrukMl Joniw Nettlebed's gaudy signboard. But for that, and t^<9 circular bench embracing the tree, and the watering trough for horses, and some other mattei^s, you would never have taken the house for an inn. The promise without is not belied by what we find within. Here is a spacious and lofty room, capable of accommodating any number of guests ; and here no doubt the old Fitz- walters — a hospitable race, save the last of the line — must often have feasted their friends, and held their Christmas i-evels. Is it much changed since their time? We think not. Witness that high carved mantelpiece, amongst the ornaments of which you may discern their many-quartered shield : and you may also find their armorial bearings in the blusliing panes ot the bay-windows. The wainscots are of oak as in days of yore ; and that ponderous table ot the same dark material, and that massive carved sideboard, can never have left their places. They must have belonged to some Fitz waiter in the days of good Queen Bess, when the Hall was built, and that fine oak staircase was reared, which you see leading to the railed gallery above. Many a light foot has tripped down those polished steps : many a heavy boot clanked up them. Rich silks liave rustled in the gallery above : fair faces have looked down upon the gallants below, when beards were wagging at the botird, and the damsels' names were on their loveis' lips as they raised the cup to them. Many a swift couranto has been danced upon the floor : many a song has echoed from the vaulted roof : many a Yule log has crackled upon the hearth : many a sport and pastime has been held round it. All are gone now. !No wonder there ic a Ghost in the House. It must mourn over past splendours — over the buried joys of other days. There are four doors opening upon the gallery, easily discernible from below. One of them must belong to the Haunted Chamber. No. They are all too public A. ghost requires seclusion. There is a dark corridor H THE FLITCn OF BACON*. OR. on tlie left It must lead to the lonesome room, where the sfuest's slumbers have been broken at dead of night, aiid his blood frozen within his \eins by a ghastly apparition. IL HOW JONAS NETTLEBED COUNTED HIS CHICKENS BEFORE THEY WERE HATCHED. The Old Inn looked unusually cheery Not that it ever looked d\ill or uncomfortable, but just now it wore a particularly bright and lively aspect. A good fire was blazing on the hearth, roar- ing up the wide-mouthed chimney, and shining on the black wainscots, on the twisted legs of the black oak table, and on the carved doors of the black oak side- board. The good fire was needed, for it was bitterly cold without : a black frost of a week's duration. All the ponds and watercourses about Dunmow were covered with ice, and even the Chelmer, which flowed within a hundred yards of the inn, encircling the grey and mossy walls of its once stately gardens, was partially frozen. It was close upon Christmas time, and the £}eason vomised to be more seasonable than the winters we low usually experience. Green Yules were rarer in ihe last century than in the present. It was cold enough in all conscience ; and as Jonas Nettlebed brought his snub nose into somewhat too close contact with a frozen pane, he seemed to have scorched it. He was employed at the time, together with Dolly, the fat cook, and Peggy, the pretty chambermaid, in decorating the bay-windows with sprigs of holly and other evergreens. At the same moment, Peggy uttered a cry. In handling the holly rather incautiously, the thorns had ^lu into her fingei-s and made tlieiy oleed THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 9 ** Plague ou't ! how it pricks," she cried. " Burns you mean, Peggy. Oddsheart ! I declaie I thought half my nose had been left sticking to the glass," Jonas said, inibbing the injured feature. " And that would be a pity indeed, master, for you haven't got too much to spare," Peggy replied, with affected commiseration, but secret entertainment. " My nose is certainly not as long as your tongue, saucebox," he rejoined — " nor as sharp ; but whatever it may be, I don't want to lose it. A little more bay, Peggy. Just till up that comer with a sprig of holly, and mind you don't prick your fingers again. Kow a bunch of laurel — now some box — now some more holly. We shall rob the poor thrushes of all theu* scarlet berries. What's that? — a branch of yew. That's unlucky, so put it back. Why, the basket's almost empty. Hark'ee cook, go fetch the Yule Log, while Peggy and I finish the job." Dolly did as she was bidden, and presently after- wards returned with a huge and knotty log of wood, which she laid do'WTi by the fire. " By the maiTy maskins ! a bouncing log !" Nettle- bed cried, contemplating it with satisfaction — "and will make a rousing Chi'istmas fire. Oddsheart ! we'll have a merry time, Peggy. All the old games shall be played. We'll * Shoe the Mare,' and * Hunt the Slipper.' We'll have ' High Jinks,' Peggy. And mark me, Dolly. There shall be roast pig, and cur- rants ; fat capon and ham ; bra^vn and mustard ; Btufl'ed goose and apple sauce ; minced pies and plum porridge : plum porridge, and plenty of it, d'ye mind, Dolly? The strong ale shall be broached, and the black jack go round. There shall be hot elder wine with toast and sugar and nutmeg — and stewed cheese to relish it — d'ye mind, Dolly ? Nor shall the lemons and 'rack be forgotten, nor the big punch-bowl. By the marry ma&idns ! it shall be filled to the brim, and every Jack and Jill shall have a glass," " Oh ! cook, won't that he nice 1" Peggy cried. 10 THE FLITCH OP BACO.N : OR, "I wish Christinas cum'd twice a year instotid ol onst,"' Dolly rejoined. " Then you'd get twice as fat as you are now, cook, and that would never do/' Nettlebed remarked. " But we've finished decorating the windows, and very well they look, I'm sure. There's only one thing wanting." *' Lawk a daisy! what can that be?" Peggy inquired with affected simplicity, though she knew well enough what was meant. *• Can't you guess, hussy ?" Jonas said, with a sly look at her. " I warrant me, you can. There's not a maid, above sixteen, in Dunmow but knows the use of the Mistletoe Bough. Tliat's what's wanting. Go see whether Carroty Dick the ostler has gathered one as T bade him." Carroty Dick saved her the trouble. At that mo- ment he emerged from the back part of the premises bearing a large branch of the beautiful epidendron in question, covered with silver berries. " Here it be, mester," he cried. " I climbed t' owd oak to get it, and drove a' the hungry ousels away. I well-nigh broke my neck i' getting down. Ben't it pratty, Peggy?" Jonas took '■'le biTinch from him, and it was speedily suspended fro n a hook, to which a lamp had been once attached, at the top of the deep recess of the window. Somehow or other Peggy found herself beneath it. The temptation to the amorous Jonas was irresistible. The girl was too pretty — ^the situation too provocative*. A smacking sound was lieard. Yes, it WAS heard ! and very distinctly, too, " Good gi*acious ! there's missis !" Peggy criett " Herci'il be a pretty to do I How could you 1 — lor shame, Fir." *' Hold yoar tongue, Peggy. I dare say sha didn'V sec ns," Jonas said, internally blaming himself for his rashness, as he reflected upon the Flitch, fearing ho had endangered his chance of obtaining it. " What are vou doini; there, Mr. Nettlebed ? An^' THE CUSTOM OP DUXMOW. 11 what noise was that 1 heard T Mrs. Nettlebed inquired ratlier sharply. "I've just been decorating the windows, my deal" Jonas replied, coming out of the recess, and putting on a demure look — " but I do not remeraber hearing any noise." " It sounded like a kiss," Nelly rejoined. " Like a very loud kiss !" " Did it, indeed, my dear ! Perhaps, it was Carroty Dick trying the effect of the Mistletoe Bough with the cook. We've just put it up. I declare the rascal's at it again — and with Peggy this time," Nettlebed cried, pointing to the recess, where the red-polled ostler was detaining both the women under the bougli. "Go about your business, sirrah." "Axe your pardon, sir," red-poll said, "but I was only Ibllering '* "About your business, I say, directly," Nettlebed interrupted. And Dick and the others disappeared, leaving the landlord alone with his wife. " Charmin' effect, haven't they, my dear 1" Jonas said, pointing to the evergreens in the windows. " Quite an arbourified look." " Charming, indeed," she replied. " But don't think to deceive me, sir. I saw you." Percei\ing further evasion would be useles?, Nettle- bed stammered out — "Well, my love, I'm sure 1 meant no harm. All's fair under the mistletoe." " You think so. Then you wouldn't object to any- boily taking the same freedom with me — eh ?" " Certainly not, my dear, certainly not. But pei haps you had better not permit it — merely for appeixr- ance sake. As we mean to claim the Flitch, one can't be too particular — before people. Not tliat I should be in the least degree uneasy — but — you understanJ me, my angel." "Yes, I perfectly understand you, Mr. Nettlebed. &> if Frank Woodbine s/tould come in, and 1 should 1*2 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OK, chance to be near the mistletoe — and he «/iOttW— eh, my dear — what would you say then ?" "Sayl — Zounds and the devil 1" the landlord ejacu- lated. "Oh fie! an oatli, Mr. Nettlebed — a shocking oath. I declare jo\i look quite in a passion." " Nothing of the kind, my love. iTever calmer in my life." "You look very red in the face, for a calm person. Do keep your legs still. One would think you were jealous of Frank Woodbine." " Jealous ! — impossible ! I know what a treasure I possess. And though Frank is accounted the best- looking young man in the neighbourhood, I know my darling has eyes only for me." " There you are right, duck. And you are safe on Frank's side as well. For is not he mamed 1 And can he have eyes for any one except his lawful spouse T " One would tJiink not. Few women can compare with Rose Woodbine in point of beauty." " Indeed, sir. You alvvays thought her prettier than me." "I never said so, my dear, whatever I may have thought. But you know sii« was called the Rose of Dunmow before her marriage.*' "Yes, I know that. And I know likewise, that you popped the question to her, before you popped to me. And she refused you." " Fortunately she did, my dear." " Fiddlestick's end 1 1 dare say you preferred her. I wish Frank Woodbine had popped to me." " Don't wish that, my love, or we shall never win the Flitch. It was a hasty expression on your part, and I forget it. In fact, I've never heard it. I Imow your real sentiments too well." " You do, indeed, ducky. No one could seriously suppose that I should prefer a young gamekeeper, how- ever good-looking he may be — with nothing but hia gun for his maiutenance and a cottage for his home THE CUSTOM OF DUXMOW. 13 — to you, a comfortable well-to-do, nice little man — with plenty of money in your pockets, and a house like this above your head. Yet they do say Fi-ank and his wife are very hapj)y, quite a model pair: and that they might claim the Flitch, if they liked." " Oh ! they say that, do they ? I know a way to stop Master Frank's mouth, if ever he attempts to pronounce the Oath." "A secret about him. Oh do tell it me, ducky. I should like so much to hear it." " Excuse me just now, my dear." " Has it any thing to do with the letter which wai left here for him, by the mail post, this morning ?" " I'm sure I can't say." " Let me look at it. Perhaps I can give a guess.'* "Well, there it is, my dear," Jonas replied, giving her a letter. " The direction is plain enough," she rejoined, read- ing it — "'For Francis Woodbine, Gajiekeeper to THE Lord Maynard. To be left with Jonas Net- TLEBED, at THE SiGN OF THE FlITCH OF BaCON, IN DuNMOW, Essex.' Odd, a letter should be addressed here and not to his own house ! That looks suspicious. Yet I don't think it's a female hand. I wonder what's inside it," she added, trying to peep under the folds. " How provoking ! I can't make out a woi-d. Yes, I can. There's a capitivl J. Oh ! I see — it's only from a John. I don't care about it. You may take it back." " Very well, my dear," Jonas replied, putting it into the table-di*awer, and locking it up. " There it rests till Frank comes for it." " And you wont tell m(; the secret T " Don't press me, I beg. I know wh^t I know. And that's enough to settle Frank, if he makes any pre tension to the Flitch. That dainty dish is reserved for us, Nelly. By the marry maskins ! we wont allow any interlopers. Oddslife ! how I wish the eventful day were come, on which we could claim it. What a grand sight it will be I What crowds will throng to 14 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, Dunmow from all parts of Essex — for I've already givep notice of my intention to Mr. Roper, the steward, and he will cause it to be proclaimed at the Court Baron, so that all the world will know it, and all the world will of course come to see us — for it is a sight not to be witnessed elsewhere. Squire Monkbury, and Mr. Roper, and the officers with their white wands, and Dr. Sidebottom, the Vicar of Dunmow, in his cassock and bands ; and Parson Bush, the Squire's Chaplain, and Roger Bowes, the Clerk, and Timothy Tipcat, the Beadle, with his staff, and the drummei's and the fifers, will all be ready to receive us at the door of the old Priory. And there will bo the Jury of Bachelors and Maidens, six of each, to decide upon the justice of our claim. And there will be the Flitch of Bacon itself ready to be delivered. The church bells will ring joyfully, and the musicians play lively tunes to welcome our arrival. Then we shall march up to the Prioiy, dressed in our best, and passing through the crowd, which will di-aw aside respectfully, to allow us passage, we shall enter the porch, and kneel down upon the stones. Uncommonly shai'p stones they are, Nelly, for Pve tried them, and therefore, my dear, we'll take the precaution of having our knees well padded. Mr. Roper will then, with all due solemnity, pronounce the Oath as follows : " " Don't trouble yourself to repeat it, dearest. I know it perfectly." " Suppose it uttered, then. Profound silence will of course prevail during this part of the ceremony. But as we arise to receive our prize, the music will strike up again, the bells ring forth their loudest peals, and shouts from the assembled crowd will rend the air. The ancient arm-chair will then be brought forth. W c shall enter it. I sitting on the right, and yoa on the left." " Exactly the reverse, ducky — ^you on the left, and 1 on the right." " No such thing I tell you, Mrs. Nettlebed. IVe in- q\ured the particulars and ouijht to know." THE CUSTOM OP DUNIIOW. IJ " You may know what you please, Mr. Nettlebed. Eiit I sit on the right if I sit there at all." " Well, well — my dear, that's not material. I dare say it can be managed. We are seated together somehow; and the procession sets forth, headed by Will Crane, the chief huntsman, caiTymg the Flitch. Will bears it aloft on a tall pole that all may see it. Then follow the musicians strumming away ; then Squire Monkbury, Parson Bush, and Dr. Sidebottom." '* Lord bless us ! I fancy I see the doctor ! How his fat reverence will wyddle along, and mop his round face, if it happens to be a hot day ! And how he will stare at me, to be sure." "Everybody will stare at you, Nelly. You'll be * tlie observed of all observers,' as the poet says. But to go on. Close behind Dr. Sidebottom we shall come ; borne on the shouldei*s of six able-bodied men, and seated together us I have described." " But you haven't settled how we are to sit ?" " Oh, yes, I have. How elated we shall feel as we look around, and gaze on the sliouting crowds, the little boys in the trees, and on the gates, and the coun- try folk in the waggons and carts," " I shall be thinking of the fine company in the coaches. I don't care about trumpery in carts, and little boys on hedges and gates. I dare say it will be a pretty sight — especially if Sir John Grubham, or Sir Gilbert de Montfichet or some of the other handsome young squires should happen to be there." " Hang the handsome young squires ! Let me pro- ceed. In our rear will come the Jury. The six maidens on my side, and the bachelors on yours." " That wont do at all. If the bachelors come behind "Tie, I sha'n't see them." "And what matters it if you don't?" " A great deal. It must be as I wish; or I take no part in it ; that's certain." " Well, I dcn't mind gi^^ng up any little point if that my principal aim be attained. So the bachelors shal! 16 THE FLITCH OF BACON I OR, follow as you desire. In thL« way we shall be taken round the boundaries of the old Priory, and to the Priory Church, amid increasing crowds, and continued shouting, and k-o home — where we shall end the day in feasting and revelry. By the maiTy maskins ! it will be a grand day ! I'm sure you'll do your best to bring it about. We must both be very cautious, and never give each other a cross look, or utter a cross word — before people. Ah ! here's the Saffron Walden and Chelmsford waggon. I hear the jingling of the bells. I must go and see if any one alights from it. Recollect, my dear. Always keep watch upon yourself — before people.'* m: OP THE STRANGE GUEST WUO ARKIVED AT THE FLITGU. Jingle ! jingle ! jingle ! Blithe music make those tiny bells. No sound so pleasant. It awakens all Dunmow, and the gossips of the place issue forth to gaze at the huge lumbering waggon, as it moves slowly along, grinding the ice and frozen mud to powder. The powerful team that draw it are well shod, and keep their feet stoutly upon the slippery road. Six strong black horses; the leaders with bells on their collars, jingling merrily and tune- fully. Children shout; dogs bark, and Ben the wag- goner cracks his long whip. At length, the mighty vehicle stops at the Old Inn. The little bells are mute, unless one of the leaders of the team chances to snort and shake his mighty neck. Simultaneoiisly with the stoppage Jonas Nettlebed and Tom Tapster issue from the porch. Carroty Dick is already there, attending to the horses, while Ben the waggoner informs the landlord, that he has got a ciiston^r for him : an old gentleman named Plot, whom he took UD at Saffron Walden. " That's the name on THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 17 his portmantle anyhow, so 1 s'pose it be his'n," Ben said — "he's a cur'ousish sort of chap, he is. There that be he a-callin' out." "Here Dick — here Tom — go fetch the steps — and help the gentleman out," Jonas cried, as an elderly personage, wrapped in a large blue roquelaure, with his hands stuffed into a muff, a comforter round his throat, and an extra pair of woollen stockings drawn above his knees, got out of the waggon. And not without some difficult}'^, for his numerous wraps ratlier impeded his movements. However, he and his port- manteau were safely landed at last. It then appeared that the old gentleman was lame — very lame. Perhaps he had a club foot, for his right leg appeared shorter than tlie left. He had a keen grey eye, and so far as could be seen of it, an irritable looking countenance, and when he pulled down his comforter to sj)eak to the landlord, there was a nervous twitching about the mouth, that confirmed the general expression of his face. His manner was testy, and his mode of speech interject ional and impa- tient. His fii*st order was that some refreshments should be given to a soldier's wife and her children, inside the waggon, with whom he had travelled ; and he would not enter the house till he had seen the in- junction obeyed While Tom Tapster went for the ale and cold viands commanded, a young man crossed the road and walked briskly up to the landlord. He had a fowling-piece over his shoulder, and carried a pouch apparently well filled with game at his side. He was dressed in a green velveteen shooting-coat, and wore stout laced-boots, and buff leathern gaiters mounting above the knee. A broad-leaved hat covered his luxuriant brown locks. Above the middle height, remarkably well-formed, with a light but atliletic frame, he looked the very model of a gamekeeper. His countenance was frank and open, and manly in expression, as was his bearing altogether, At his heels followed a noble retriever. 18 THE FLITCH OF BACOX: OIi, "A Merry Christmas to you, landlord," lie said ** and a Happy New Year when it comes. This being the season for presents, I'vo ventured to bring you a couple of wild ducks for your own eating, and a wood- cock for your dame," he added, taking the birds from his ])0uch, and offering them to Jonas. "The Compliments of the Season to you, Master Woodbine," the host replied ; " and many thanks for the birds, on my wife's part, as well as on my own. But Oddslife ! I've got a letter for you. Where is it ? Oh, let me see — I locked it up in the table-drawer for safety. Ah ! you're a sly rogue, Master Woodbine — a sly rogue — to have your letters addressed to me. I'll bring it you instantly." " Don't give yourself the trouble, my good host," Frank Woodbine rejoined — " I only wished to ascertain that the letter had arrived, for it is of importance, though not in the way you hint. I'll just step home and get rid of my dog and my gun, and then return for it. I've promised to meet Mr. Roper, the steward, at your house, on a matter of business this evening ; and if he should arrive before me, beg him to await my coming," The young gamekeeper then shouldered his gun, and whistlin sight to bewitch, Thau bc'll find, if he halts at the sigu of the Flitch. Derry down. For I'm proud of my kitchen, I'm proud of my ctUar, I'm proud of my wife, as I frequently tell her ; And there is not in Essex a hostel more rich In comfort, than that which is known as the Flitch. Derry down.** Wliile Jonas was singing, the old gentleman mani' fested great impatience, and at last he burst forth : " Don't split my ears with your screeching, landlord. Fancy youi*self a nightingale, I dare say ; but you've more of the niven or the goose about you. Fetch me a glass of briuidy — the oldest and best you have." Quite taken aback at the unexpected rebuff, Jonas proceeded to obey the order, while Dr. Plot limped towards the fire, and stood warming liimself before it, till the brandy was brought him. The liquor seemed to please liim, for he grunted forth sometliing like an expression of sati.sfaction. " That'll do, sir, eh T' Jonas said. « Soft as silk and mild as milk : fifty year old, if it's a day. Why, sir, that trandy's part of the old stock. It came out of Sir A'alter Fitsrwalter's o^vn cellar, and it must have been 20 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OB, his father's, for the baronet was too stingy to buy a bottle." " Humph ! — give me another glass. Tliiiik I recol- lect the flavour." " Indeed, sir — ^then mayhap you were a friend of the family?" "What's that to you, sir?" the old gentleman cx- jlaimed, rather fiercely. " How dare you put questions to me? But since you must know, you inquisitive fellow, I was a friend of the family — the family physi- cian — Dr. Plot. Did you ever hear of me ? — eh !" " Can't say I have, sir — but I'm proud to make your acquaintance, doctor — extremely proud." " Fudge ! Nobody need be proud of knowing me. Hate flattery, even from an innkeeper. Despise it, sir. "Wont have it. Folks call me an eccentric man. Dare say I am. Consult my own convenience and tastes; not theirs. Came here in the waggon because I prefer it to a chaise, the stage-coach, or the post-horse. Better company, and cheaper. Shouldn't have met that soldiers wife and her brats in the coach. Cost me more, though, in the end — now I think of it." " A strange old gentleman, indeed !" Jonas muttered. '' What can I do to please you, sir ?" " Please me — ^nothing. Yes, you can. You're mar- ried, you say ?" "Married, sir — ^yes, sir," Jonas replied, wondering what was coming next. " Send your wife to me then. More sense than you have, I'll be sworn." " Mrs. Nettlebed — Nelly, my dear, you're wanted,'^ the host shouted. " Coming, my dear," Mrs. Nettlebed rejoined, as she issued from an inner chamber. " What's your pleasure, sir?" she added, dropping a curtsey to the old gen- tleman. " My pleasure, madam — I have none," Plot repUed crustily. " Your will, then, sir 1" Nelly rejoined. THE CUSTOM OP DIINMOW 21 •" Tve neither will nor pleasure. Mean to stay here for a few days. Tliat is, if you give me a good bedroom and clean sheets, and make me comfortable." " We've only one room disengaged, sir," Nelly i-eplied, uot much liking her customer — " and that's haanterl." "HWnted !" he rejoined, mimicking her — "so much "ihe better. I like a haimted room. Never saw a ghost in my life. Want to see one." " Perliaps you may be gratified, sir,*' Nelly i-eplicd. " And since you have no objections on that score, we may manage to accommodate you." " It's the largest chamber in the house, sir, and has the best bed in it," Jonas interposed — " such an ancient piece of furniture ; such a high tester ; and such stiff old hangings. You'll fancy yourself in a heai*se. I've heard say it was Sir Walter's own bed ; and his great- grandfather, Sir Alured, may have slept in it for aught I know. It's more than we could though — eh, Nelly? We thought we saw a female figure come out of one of the closets, and glare at us." " I'm sure I saw it," Mrs. Nettlebed rejoined. " It was bright moonlight, and the figure was as pale as any shroud. Jonas can't speak so positively, because he hid himself under the bed-clothes." ** Mere delusion — trick of fJEincy,** Flot cried. " White figure — fudge ! reflection of yourself in a glass — nothing more. Hobgoblin stories frighten children and women. Men laugh at them. Get ready the ha\mted room for me, ma'am. Make a good fire. Air the bed well, and I warrant me, I shall sleep soundly enough within it, in spite of ghost or ghostess — ha ! ha !" " I hope you may laugh in the same way to-raoiTOw morning, sir," Nelly said, looking as if she expected otherwise. " Never fear, ma'am — never fear. Harkye, landlord, who was the young fellow who gave you a woodcock for your wife f ' " A woodcock for me, Jonas ? You never told me about it" i2 -xlE FLITCH OP BACOK: OR, •* Dr. Plot's arrival put it out of my head, my d«ai Frank Woodbine is the young man's name, sir. He brought me a couple of wild-ducks, and you a woodcock, my dear." •* I thought it must be a present from Frank," Nelly cried. '• A nice, dear fellow !" "Don't praise him too much, my dear, — before people," Jonas whispered. " And who may Frank Woodbine be f* Plot inquired^ "That's more than Pm able to inform you, sir," Ncttlebed replied. ** He's a stranger in these paints — that is to say, he was a stranger some eighteen months ago, before he came as gamekeeper to Lord Maynard. " He deserves to be something more than a game- keeper," Nelly said. " Anybody can see he's above bis situation. He never keeps low company like the others, and when dressed in his best, he looks just like a young squire. Indeed, for the matter of that, there's not a young squire hereabouts to compare with him — not even Sir John Grubham, or Squire Chipchase. He rides as well as Squire Monkbury ; shoots a great deal better than Sam Snipe, the head keeper ; and as to dancing, you should just see him foot it in the Hay, sir. Nobody like him. You've seen him yourself, sir, and can judge of his good looks." " Pshaw ! good looks are all a woman cares for," Plot rejoined. " Law, sir !" Nelly cried ; " I'm sure you can't say that of me. I didn't choose my Jonas from outwai'd appearances." '* Rose Woodbine's a treasure beyond all price ; that's all I know," the landlord rejoined, rather nettled. '•' All vvomen are treasures — so nuich beyond price, that one can't get rid of them," Plot observed, dril3\ " You never beheld such a chai-mer, sir," Jonas pur- sued, with a side look at liis wife. "A. rustic beauty — cheeks red as apples, and as round," Plot cried — " Picture of rude health, no doubt — line animal — but coarse and clumsy — not at a.1 to my taste." THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 1^ " Nor to mine,*' Nelly said. " You've hit hei ofl to a ulcety, sir." " Knew you'd think so. Women never praise each other too much. Your husband now would contradict all I've asserted — all you've confirmed." " Tastes differ, sir, and opinions are free," the land • lord replied. "According to mine, there's not a lovelier creature in the land than Rose Woodbine. As to manners, there's nothins; low-bred about hex-, if I may be allowed to judge. Many a fine lady might take a lesson from Rose." *' Bless us ! you're very warm in your praises of her, Mr. Nettlebed," Nelly observed. " Not half f.o warm as you were in pi*aise of Frank, my dear," he re])lied. '* And this pai-agon of perfection, who would put all our ladies of quality to shame, is some farmer's daughter, I suppose," the old gentleman remarked. " An oi*]^han maiden, brought up by Mr. Leslie, the old curate," Jonas answered — " a niece of his wife's I fancy she may be, sir — but I know nothing for certain. Rose Mildmay, for such was her maiden name, was well brought up. Good old Mr. Leslie, though poor as a rat, did his best for her, and instructed her himself ; tmt after his death it was as much as the poor widow could do to keep things together, and support herself. So Rose married." " How came she to throw herself away on this young %Kn ? Had she no other offer 1" "Many a one. Some that most women circumstancetl as she was, — ahem !" with a look at his wife, " would have jumped at. One that would have raised her to a rank as high as that of any lady in the county. Young 3ir Gilbert de Montfichet, of Stansted House, one of the Snest places in the neighbourhood, offered her his hand. But she preferred the humble gamekeeper, to whoiu she had plighted her troth." A shade of emotion flitted over the old gentleman's ^rdonic countenance; »ud *ihe nervous twitching about 24 THE FLITCH OF BACOX : OR, his mouth became sharper than usual. But he soon repressed it. " More fool she !" he cried. " She'll repent having \hrown away the chance." " T don't think she will," Nelly said. " She's not like any other woman. She seems quite blind to her own interests ; and as to proper pride or spirit she hasn't a jot of it. She's so wrapped up in her husband Miat she can think of nothing else." "And he pretends to be Just as fond of her," J^na? added. "Pretends ! why, isn't he ?" Plot demanded. " I'm sure I can t say," the landlord replied, evasively. '* It's no business of mine." " Neither is it your business to make insinuations «^ithout warrant," Plot rejoined. " I should like to see this fond couple's love put to the test. It's easy to make professions — not so easy to act up to them. I'm no believer in such rare conjugal attachment. I've seen too much of the world. All outside show — mere make-Delieve. Men neglect their wives — after a time, at least ; and women console themselves as they best v^u : some in one way, some in another. All women try to govern their husbands, and most succeed in tlie attempt." " You've but a poor opinion of our sex, sir," Nelly said. "A very poor opinion indeed, ma'am. My own experience has unfortunately brought me to that con- clusion." " SoiTy to hear it, sir," Nettlebed said — " but you mustn't judge all the world by yourself. For example, I am an instance to the contrary. My slightest wish IS law to jNIrs. Nettlebed. She would never dream of governing me. Would you, my angel f " Oh no, ducky, T know my duty better.'* "There, sir, I hope you're convinced. At )a^t.. you've met with a fond husband and an obedient wife : — a couple so perfectly happy and united, sir, that they conceive themselves qualiied to claim the Flitch. But THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 1»5 here oomes Mr. Abel Roper, Steward of the Manor of Little Dimmow. Give you good e'en, Mr. Roper. A meiTy Christmas to you, sir." As the host advanced to welcome the new-comer, NelJy withdrew to get Dr. Plot's room ready for him, and gi-eat was Peggy the chambermaid's astonishment, wlien she heard her mistress say that the old gentle- man had taken the Haunted Room. " I wouldn't sleep there alone for all the world," she observed to Carroty Dick, as they followed Mrs. Net- tlebed up the great staircase : she with a candle, and he caiTying the stranger's portmanteau. 1 " Don't trouble yourself, Peggy," Dick said. " The ghost won't meddle wi' him. He's too owd an' ugly." And all three disappeared down the dark corridor. IV. HOW ABEL ROPER OBTAINED AN INSIGHT INTO THl OLD GEN TLt man's BREAST. Dr. Plot sat down by the fire. As the steward entered, he glanced at the old gen- tleman, and the old gentleman glanced at him, but they took no further notice of each other. Mr. Roper then took off his great-coat and gloves, and deposited them with his three-cornered hat on » chair. He was a respectable-looking middle-aged man, in an irou-gi*ey wig, snuff coloured coat and waistcoat, striped woreted stockings, square-toed shoes and buckles. '• Has Frank Woodbine been here ?" he inquired ^ the landlord. " Yes, sir, he has ; about half an hour ago, and he bade me say, if you chanced to arrive before his return he would not keep you long waiting." " That's well," Mr. Roper cried. " Just take out « pot of ale to mv two friends outside.*^ US THE FLITCH OF BACON*. OR, "Won't tliey step in?" the landlord said. Bui receiving a reply in the negative, he delegated the com- mission to Tom Tapster, by whom it was executed, while Mr. Roper proceeded : " And now, Mr. Nettlebed, I make no doubt you are all anxiety to know whether I have given notice of yoAr intention to claim the flitch. I hav«i. It is registered. But I have done st'll more. I have selected the Jury: six of the best looking young baclielors of the village, and six of the prettiest maidens ; and I have told them to pay you their first visit ot inquiry this evening." " By the marry maskins ! this is news," Nettlebed exclaimed, jsyfully. " Here, Tom Tapster. Go and brew a strong bowl of punch, and bid the cook cut the plum-cake and get the minced pies hot. I must give them fitting welcome. What a pity it is we've no music, or we might have a dance." " I've taken care of that," Roper replied ; " I told Simon Appleyard to bring the fiddles with him. I don't want to damp your satisfaction, Mr. 2^ettlebed, but I am bound to tell you there is another claimant, whose chances appear quite equal, some think superior to your own." The landlord looked quite chapfallcn. •' Oddsbodikins ! who is it T he asked. " Kt) other than the young man who i3 tf meet me here." " Frank Woodbine ! I thought so. I pr(»test against his claim. He can't take the oath." " Why not ? He bears an excellent character, anti in supposed to be fondly attached to his wife ; and she to him." " He doesn't deserve her love — a rake, a libertine, a dfceiver." "Poh — poh : my good friend, you are wholly misin- formed." " I can't be misinlbrmed I've seen it with my owp THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOliV. 27 "Seen what r " Seen him make love to another woman." "To Mrs. Nettlebedr " Zookers! no ; not to her : I should like to set. him do that : but to one who gave him a very different reception from Avhat he'd meet with from my Nelly — one who kissed him and squeezed him." " Pshaw ! your eyes must have deceived you." " No, they didn't. I can see plain enough when I desire it. I'll prove what I say, at the right time." ** But you must bring forward other evil«^nce than your own. You will be supposed to be an interested witness — and will on that account be discredited." " I'll bring 'damning proofs,' as the j^lay-actors say" Jonas cried. *' What's that you sjiy about * damning proofs,' land- lord r Plot said, getting up, and limping towards them. " So you have tound the young man out, eh 1 Didn't I tell you man's constancy was all gammon 1 Take care he don't retfiliate, and find you out." " I defy him," the landlord replied. " Humph I" ]*lot muttered. " Your servant, sir," he added, bowing to the steward. " Don't recollect me, I perceive ? Physician to the unfortunate family who once resided liere — Dr. Plot." " The name is familiar to me, sir," the steward said, returning the salutation ; " but I confess I do not recollect your features, though I must have seen you." " Dare say not. Most people think me changed — sadly changed — broken down, in fact. I'm come here to spend a few days, and moralise upon the vanities of the world. Plenty of food for it here, sir. An old house gone to ruin : an old family gone to the dogs. .fVnd why 1 All the fault of a woman. And yet this credulous foi»l — this easy dupe, would tiy and persuade US that a miracle has been wrought in his behalf." "I am neither a fool, nur a dupe, sir," Jonas 28 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, rejoined. "And I'd have you to know that Mra Nettlebed is not an ordinary woman. I don't wonder you have not met with such a one. Squire Monkbury, of Monkbury Place, says she hasn't ijer equal, and that he loves her like a daughter. And Dr. Sidebottom, the Vicar, calls her a rara avis. Perhaps, you know what that means, sir ?" " Pshaw !" cried the old gentleman. " I hope we shall give you, before you leave, a better opinion of the sex, and of human nature in general, than you appear to entertain, sir," the steward said. " I know the sad circumstances of the case to which you allude, and greatly regret them. But I cannot think the unfortunate lady so much to blame as is supposed." " Sir, you know nothing about it," Plot rejoined, sharply. "/ know that Lady Juga was guilty. But no more of this. Let the dead rest in their graves." "I wish they did — Lady Juga, especially," the landlord groaned, aside. " I would not disturb them ; nor would I rake up any memories that may be painful to you, sir, as a friend of Sir Walter, for such I am aware you were. But I cannot but think the Lady Juga wrongfully judged ; and at more fitting time and season I will endeavour to prove the truth of what I assert.** * If you can do so, you will remove a barbed arrow that has rankled in my breast for years, and soured all the sweetness of my nature, if it ever had any sweet- ness, which I doubt. And I care not if you kill me in the doing of it ; since it was from my representa- iions, and by my advice, that Sir Walter left his wife." "Then I had better not disclose what I have to teU, sir." " Yes, speak out, and spare not. Cut as deep as you will ; or pluck out the shaft forcibly. I am too good a physician not to know that you must probe the THE CUSTOM OP DUXMOW. 2if wound, if you wcmld cure it. But mine never can be iiealed," he added, in a tone of deep pathos. " I hope othei-wise, sir. I will find a convenient time to lay my relation before you. I have business just now with Fnuik Woodbine, and expect him hei-© anon. Ah ! sir ; if you could but see his wife, she would change the ill opinion you entertain of women An angel, sir." *' I have heard much of her, and should like to sec jer. Perhaps, you can contrive it T " Easily," the steward replied. " Her husband will mjike you heartily welcome to his cottage.** '* I would rather see her without him." " Well, sir, perliaps it may be managed. 1*11 see." " Here comes Frank Woodbine," Nettlebed cried, as the door opened to admit the young man. At the same moment, Nelly came quickly down stairs. «HOWINO THAT FR.\NK WOODBrSE STIOTTLB HAVE LOOKED BEFORE HE LEAPED. Frank Woodbine was a very liandsomc young fellow, certainly. No mistake about it. He looked much better now than when the old gentleman saw him first, having doffed his shooting clothes, and put on others, whicli though plain enough, and perfectly suitable to his station, fitted him well, and set off his light, agile limbs to advantage. Mrs. Nettlebed smiled upon him very graciously as they met ; thanked him for his polite attention in bringing her the woodcock ; inquired after his wife and chattered so fast that she quite forgot where she wa« going until she foimd herself near one of the bav 50 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, windows. Frank Woodbine thought the evergreens very nicely arranged, and told her so. " It's my husband's taste," she replied, entering the recess — " but they are very pretty, I must say. Do come and look at them. My goodness gracious ! — if X am not under the Mistletoe Bough." Frank must have been a stupid fellow, after all. It never occurred to him to take advantage of the situa- tion. He looked up quite innocently at the branch, and then marched out of the recess. Nelly bit her ruddy lips with vexation. " That doesn't look like the conduct of a rake, Mr. Nettlebed," Roper observed, nudging the land- lord. "He's on his guard now," Jonas replied: "he's cautious enough before people. D'ye think h id have acted so, if we hadn't been by ?" " I hoT)e ne would. But you don't suppose your wife vv^ould allow him to salute her?" "I'd ha' boxed his ears soundly if he'd attempted any such thing," Nelly said, overhearing the remark. "And now, Master Woodbine," the steward said. *' we've a little business to settle together." "We have, sir," the young man replied. " I'm quite prepared for you." " Glad to hear it. Suppose we begin with a glass of ale. It will help us through our work. I^andlord, a ^ug of your old October." " With all my heart, sir," Frank replied, taking a chair at the table with the steward. The ale was speedily brought, and quite sustained Jonas's well-earned reputation as a brewer. "And now oblige me with pen and ink," the steward said — " and a candle, too, if you please, Mrs. Nettlebed — for it's getting dark, and we might make lulstake?, and they don't do in money matters." "Money matters! Oh 1 it's about money they've met — is J*^ I wonder who's* fi^oing to receive, and who THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 31 to pAj?" Nelly muttered, as she placed the inkstand on the tuble and lighted the candle. Meanwhile, Mr. Roper took a memorandum-book out of his j)ocket, referred to it, and laid it down. He next brought out a parchment, and laying that down loo, looked at Frank. '' You have a letter for me, landlord ?" the young man said. *• Beg pardon. Master "Woodbine," Jonas cried. " It quite slipped my memory. It's quite iafe. Here it is, sir," he added, unlocking the drawer and i)roducin^ the letter. While this was going on, the old gentleman had resumed his seat at the tire, but he watched the proceedings of the party at the table with much curiosity. '•Two hundred pounds. Master Woodbine — that's the amount," the steward said. " I'll vrrite out a receipt for you in behalf of Squire Monkbury, and deliver up the bond on payment of the money." " Two hundred poimds !" Jonas muttered to himself — " I didn't think he could be worth half as much." " Two hundred }X)und8 !" Nelly thought. "Why, he must be as well off as Jonas himself" " You shall have it in a moment, Mr. Roper," Frank said. And he tore open the letter. " How's tins?" he cried, with a sudden change of countenance, and springing to his feet *' No inclosui'o It must have been abstracted from the letter.*" "Abstracted !" Jonas exclaimed. " I'll i^juwer lor it nothing has been abstracted in this ho-./Zj." " No— no — I was wrong," Fraii> cried, running his eye distractedly over the missive — " the money has not been sent." "Am I to understant^ ILen that you cannot pay me, young man?" the stev.ard said, in a severe tone. " You see I anL disappointed in my expectations, sir. The money Caght ti> have been sent, but it has been 3 J Tllfc; FLITCH OF BACON: OR, refused ; — J Know not why. Grant me a week's delay and I will engage to pay it you in full" '•^ I cannot consent to be thus trifled with, Frank Woodbine," the steward rejoined ; "and though I am soiTy to deal harshly with you, I must exact the full l)enalties of this bond." " I need not remind you that the money was not advanced to myself, Mr. Roper," Frank urged; *'that I am only surety for another." " But the principal being utterly unable to pay the debt, I must come upon you. It was on this under- standing alone that I accepted your security." " I can pay the debt, sir, if I have a little time.** " Time cannot be granted. I regret to be driven to these extremities, but as I am acting for Squire Monk- bury, and not for myself, I have only one course to pui'sue, however repugnant it may be to my feelings. Unless you can find the money, I shall be compelled to place you under arrest." "Arrest me!" Frank exclaimed. "Ay, and send you io Chelmsford Jail." " Mr. Roper, you are not a hard man. 1 know you are not, sir. You cannot mean this." The steward shook his head. "And you can have the heart to imprison me because I rescued a poor widow from impending niin ?" '■'' Do not put a false gloss on your conduct, young man," the steward rejoined; "you meant to do well, no doubt; but you liave merely performed a good action at another's expense. If you signed this bond, without the certainty of fulfilling its conditions, you were highly to blame; and you will now experience the result of your incaution. But the Squire must not oe allowed to suffer from your folly; and since you are not prepared to meet your engagements, the law must take its course." " My wife ! — my poor wife !" Frank exclaimed, clasp- ing his hands to his brow. "You should have thought of this before," the .^^ THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 33 Bt45ward said. " You will be imprisoned ; will lose your situation ; and bring youi* wife to beggary, it may be, from your want of prudence." As the steward spoke, Frank's whole demeanour changed, and he looked as if he would make some fierce reply; but he checked himself, and said, with forced calmness : "You are not the man I took you for, Mr. Roper. You speak with unnecessary harshness. I have shown no wish to break my engagements. I can perform them and I ivill. All I require is a little time." "Young man, I have more than once told you, that I am merely Squire Monkbury's agent, and have there- fore no option in the matter. But if you prefer it, I can select Mrs. Leslie instead of yoiL" "Arrest the poor old lady ! Carry her off to prison — to die there of distress and shame. No, sir, that shall never be while I can prevent it" "Then it was poor Mrs. Leslie for whom he was bound," sobbed Nelly to her husband. "My heart quite bleeds for him. Do pay the money. Do, Jonas. There's a duck." " Pay two hundred pounds, my dear! Quite out of the question. A pretty fool folks would think me." " Never mind them. Pay it, Jona.s,— do." " Mr. Nettlebed," said the steward, " have the good- ness to tell those two persons outside to step in." '* You shan't go, Jonas — it's to do something horrid ■^I know it is," Nelly screamed. "Don't alarm yourself, ma'am,** the stewai-d said, tapping against the window. At the signal, two stout, ill-favoured men, with staves in their hands, rushed into the room, and on a gesture from the steward laid hands upon Frank Wood- bine. " Bumbailiffs !" Nelly exclaimed. " Catch me, Jonas — I shall faint — I'm sure I shall." " TJdsdeath ! I wish he hadn't arrested him here" the landlord said. " Tt'U bring discredit on the housf^.** 31 THE FLITCH OF BACON : OR, " Pay the money directly," Nelly cried, " or I shall gi» into hysterics — oh !" " My life! — my angel!" the landlord exclaimed, en- deavouring to pacify her. " Take charge of your prisoner, gentlemen," the steward said to the bailifls, " and convey him as speedily as you can to Chelmsford, and there lodge him in the jail. You understand, Isaacson." '• Ay, ay." the bailiff replied. "Will you not allow me to take leave of my wife, Mr. Roper r' " Better not," the steward rejoined. " Much better not, young man," Isaacson added. " Oh dear ! — oh dear ! It would melt a heart of Btone," Nelly sobbed. At this moment, Dr. Plot beckoned to the steward. Hitherto, the old gentleman had taken no part in the scene, except that of a deeply interested spectator. On this, Mr. Koper motioned the bailiffs to stop. They did so, but still kept fast hold of the prisoner. " I am interested about this young man," Plot said. " Feel half inclined to assist him." " Very glad to hear it, sir. I assure you it gives me much concern to resort to extreme measures with him. But I am merely an instrument in the hands of another." " I know that," Plot rejoined, impatiently. " But I want to know if JNIrs. Leslie, for whom the young man became security, is a deserving person*?" •' None more so, sir. The widow of a poor curate. You must recollect Mr. Leslie, sir. Pastor of Little Dunmow Church for fifty years and better, till at last they laid him in its churchyard. A sad day that for us all, sir. Never more were we to see his venerable face nor listen to his earnest exhortations again — ^though I trust some of his wise precepts have abided with us. Oftentimes," pursued the steward, with marked empha^ sis, " he would preach Forgiveness for wrongs done us — real or imaginary — Charity towards our fellows. And THE CUSTOM Ot- DUXMOW. 3A many a man's wrath has been turned away by his words — many friendships restored — peace brought back to many'an unhappy family. He showed us the Black Spot on our o^v^l hearts, and bade us purge it out by [Hjnitence, not add to its dye, by quarrelling with our ^s^ighbour, our offspring, or the wile of our bosom." A strange agitation seized the old gentleman, as tliese words were addressed to him. The twitching movements about his mouth became almost convulsive. His hand wandered in his breast as if he would tear it open, and lay bare its secrets to the steward, At last he cried, regarding Roper fiercely,— " Why all this to me ? What do I care for Mr. Leslie, or his discourses ? How do they apply to me ? What have I to forgive T " Wo have all much to forgive ; or think we have,'' Mr. Roper replied. "Pardon mo, if I have touched any chord in your heart that vibrates too keenly. I meant not to offend. My aim was to show that our Pastor was a good man, and sj)oke Truth without fear." *• So far I respect his memory," Plot replied, more calmly. " But though he did hia duty well, he was scantily paid ; and he died poor, so that his widow had a hard time of it, and must have starved but for assistance. A cottage was bought her, money lent, and she is no>* easy and free from want." '* And this she owes to Frank Woodbine T *' Entirely to him. His wife, you know, i' Mrs Leslie's niece — at least, 'tis so reported. At all ev'onts h'he was brought up by her. Soon after Frank's mar- riage, the widow's main difficulties began, for Rose hati ^oeen her chief support; the poor old body had been sorely put to it before — but now absolute want stared her in the face. Frank came forward. He consulted me. The widow wanted two hundred pounds to make all com- fortable for her for life. I got her the money from Squire Monkbury. I took Frank's bond for the sum. Only one 36 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, stipulation was made by the young man : that Mrs. Leslie should not know to whom she was indebted; and that the matter should not be mentioned to his wife. You will acknowledge he has acted with consi- derable delicacy." " I acknowledge nothing. What reason had you for thinking he would be able to pay you? What are his resources?" " Not much, I grant," the steward replied, with a half-smile, " but I believed his representations ; and I still believe," he added, with a certain significance, " that he has been disappointed by some person from whom he expected money. I don't think you could do wrong in assisting him, sir." " T must first see his wife," the old gentleman re- plied ; " and Mrs. Leslie, too." " You will find Rose Woodbine all I have described her. I will go with you to her, sir, if you please." '•'Thankee. Leave the young man here. I have toid you I would rather see his wife when he is not by." "Your humour shall be indulged, as good may come of it, sir. Will you go at oncef The old gentleman nodded, and hobbled ofi* in search of his roquelaure and muff. While the foregoing conversation took place, the bailifis, thinking it a little tedious, no doubt, had seated themselves near a table at the back of the room, with the prisoner between them. Here the young man was kindly visited by Mrs. Nettlebed, who by this time had recovered from her hysterics, and brought him the bottle of the old brandy by way of consolation. But Frank declined the offer. " We shouldn't object to a glass, ma'am," Isaacson laid. "Should we, Latchaml" " By no maimer of means, ma'am," his partner re- plied. " We're 'nation fond of old brandy. And we knows it's the right sort here." " It's not the right sort for you," Nelly replied, in THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 37 supreme disgust. " Don't take on so, Master "Wood- bine. I dare say it '11 be all right." " I'm thinking of poor Rose," he rejoined. " I've never been absent from her during one evening ^inoe we've been married. To-night she will be alone.* "A werry hard case," the senioi bailiff observed, with a sneer. " Mrs. Isaacson's often alone of an even- ing. And she niver complains — niver." " Rather likes it, Isaac, I should say,'* Latcliam re- joined. " Unfeeling monsters !" Nelly muttered. Just then the steward advanced towards the group, and the two minions of the law rose to their feet. " Don't disturb yourselves, gentlemen," Roper said. " You will remain here, for an hour probably, with your prisoner. I have some business to transact with Dr. Plot, and when it is done, I will return and give you further directions." " Werry good, sir," Isaacson replied. " Ac. hour would suffice for me to take leave of my wife, sir,^ Frank cried. " Will you grant it me — will you, sir 1 On my word I will be back within the time. You may trust me. Indeed, you may." " Your vord vont do, young man," Isaacson said. " Verivir you goes, the bailiffs goes vith you." "And Mrs. W. mightn't like the sight on ua," Latchara added. " Barbarians I" Nelly ejaculated. " I'll free him from their clutches — come what may." '^It cannot be," the steward replied, shaking off Frank, who grasped his arm. " Make these gentlemen comfortable, Mrs. Nettlebed. Give them what they want." With tliis he tutned away abruptly, a.s if to escape from further importunity, and hastily putting on hL« great coat and hat, followed the old gentleman, who, attended by the landlord, had already gained the door. Frank sank upon a chair, and hid his fece in hia fcandA. &3 THE FUTCH OP BACON: OR, ** You heer'd ma'am, vot th© guv*nor said,** Isaac* Bon obsen^ed to Nelly. "Ve're to make ourselves oomferable, an' call for vot ^e likes. An' that I should say %"ad bo pipes an' baccy, an' summut 'ot, ey, LatcLam T " Summut 'ot, by all manner o' means/' the other worthy replied. " That ale sits woundy cowld on my stomacL" " Then you shall each have a gla^s of bi-andy," Nolly replied, helping them. The pair smacked their lips with satisfaction. " Halloa, my dear, what are you about ?" Jonas cried, hurrying towards her, and trying to snatch away the bottle. " That's the old brandy. I don't give that to e rery-day customers." " You don't call these gentlemen * every-day custo- mers,' I hope, my dear." " No, and the less we see of 'em the better," Jonas replied. " Help yourselves, gentlemen," Nelly said, giving Isaacson the bottle ; " don't spare it." "Never fear, ma'am," he replied, winking at his partner, and receiving a significant glance in return. " Here's your werry good health, ma'am ; an' yours too, Muster Nettlebed, an' a-vishin' you may ym the Flitch." "Come, they're not so bad as I thought. The brandy's not quite thrown away upon them," Jonas muttered. " It's but a poor compliment, though, to Mrs. Net- tlebed," Isaacson pursued, endeavouring to put on a gallant &.ir — " to ofier her the Flitch — it's a throwin* svine to pearls, as you may say — ho! ho!" " Really the man's not such a monster as I thought liim," Nelly reflected, rather pleased with this clumsy attempt at wit. " Get the pipes and tobacco, Jonas. Wont you take anything ?" she said to Frank ; add- ing, in a wliisper, " Do as I tell you, and 1*11 set yen free." THE BACHELORS AND MAIDENS. THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 39 The yoiiDg man signified by a slight gesture that he understood her. As Jonas brought the materials for smoking, the dulcet notes of a fiddle were lieard outside. " Here they come ! here they come 1" the landlord cried, clapping his hands. " Who come V Frank inquired, raising his head. " The Jury of Bachelors and Maidens to decide upon our claim to the Flitch," Nettlebed replied. " Como along Nelly." And they both flew to the door, while all the house- hold, attracted by the music, made their appearance- some from one place, some from another, pretty Peggy Tom Tapster, Carroty Dick, and eveu the fat cook frocr the kitchen. VL THE /T,BT OF BA.CIIELOBS AND MAIDENS. Six Bacheh^^ and Six Maidens ! Hand in hand they enter the house, and as each pair crosses the threshold they salute the host and hostess, who welcome them with extraordinary heartiness. Jonas almost overacts his part ; he is so much excited. The Youths do credit to the steward's selection. All are tolerably good-looking : all dressed alike in green square cut coats, white stockings, Spanish leather shoes, and buckles. The Maidens are the flower of the village. Not a plain face ; not a bad figure among them. Pretty girls all. Very prettDy dressed, too. And all alike, as in the case of the Bachelors. Fly caps with pink ribands ; hair in little curls round the brow, and clubbed behind; velvet bands encircling the thi'oat ; pink tucked-up go>\'ns, open in front, so as to display through the crossed ribands the white stomachers ^neath; scarlet petticoats; blue stock- 40 THE FLITCH OF BACON I OR, mgs, and high-heeled shoes; ankles generally veri neat ; waists for the most part very trim. The fiddlers come in, too, playing a lively air, fol- lowed by a little piper, and a fat man with a bassoon, as accompaniments. A crowd of neighbours, of both sexes, attracted by the music and the sight, flock in after them. All are cordially welcomed by the host and hostess ; and some confusion ensues for a few moments, during which the bailifls, though alive to what is going on, look shari)ly after their prisoner. When it becomes known that Frank Woodbine has been arrested, great sym- pathy is manifested for him by the whole assemblage ; the men accusing the steward of harshness; and the women patting Frank on the back, bidding him not mind ; shaking their hands at the bailiffs, and threat- ening to clapper-claw their faces. But Frank does seem to mind it a great deal. The merriment around him, in which he has no share, makes him still more sad and gloomy. As to the bailifls, they express their contempt of the opprobrious epithets applied to them, and the menaces of the ladies, by smoking their pipes very tranquilly, and sipping their brandy-and-water, occa- sionally profiering the glass to the more infuriated of their assailants, which, of course, is indignantly re- jected. Hats off! The Bachelors draw up in a line. So do the Maidens. The music ceases. The host and hostess take hands, and advance towards them as if inviting thera to a dance ; but it is not for that purpose. They are about to answer the interrogations of the Jury. The questions are very precise, corresponding with the formula of the Oath. They are glibly answered both by Jonas and Nelly. Never were couple so united and happy. The endearments, in which they indulge, would prove it to the satisfaction of any Jury what- 2ver ; however sceptical they might be to begin with. The Council of Twelve consult together ; and it- " THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 4i Bachelors put their heads so close to the Maidens, that their ^vig9 brush their cheeks, and tickle their eai-a The Twelve appear quite convinced by what they have heard ; and seen. "But this is only a preliminary inquiry," Simon Appleyard, the foreman, says. " Thi'ee days have yet to inin before the full term ; a Twelvemonth and a Day ; required by the Charter, will have expired. And you may yet forfeit your claim." " Not the least chance of it," Jonas replies, embi*a ciug his wife anew. "Not the least," she adds, ardently returning hi« caress. "Master don't say a word about the IVIistletoe Bough," Carroty Dick whispers to Peggy. "Hold your tongue, dunderhead," the fliscreet chambennaid replies. " On the fourth day from this, we shall renew our inquiries," the foreman pui-sues ; " and if we find all satisfactory, as we trust it may be, we will give you our certificate to Mr. Roper; who will lay it before Squire Monkbury ; and the next time a Court Baron is held, you can make your claim." " Huzza !" Jonas exclaims. And the crowd echo the shout, till the old rafters echo with their joyous vociferations. Then comes Tom Tapster bearing a large punch- bowl, and places it on the table in the midst of them. Nelly and Peggy bring glasses ; and the fat cook brings the minced pies and the plum cake. Jonas seizes the ladle, and begins to dispense the fragrant beverage. The Maidens are first served, and the Bachelors wait upon them. The punch is so hot, that It scalds their mouths ; but they (kink it nevertheless. The Bachelors are helped next, and as they pledge their partners, they make tender speeches about ^he probability of obtaining the Flitch, in their tui-n. Then comes everybody's turn ; and Jonas for some minutes is actively engaged in supplying the wants of 43 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, the thirsty crowd who besiege the table. Peggy and the others hand about the cake and the minced pies, and the pretty chambermaid comes in for her share of admiration from the young fellows ; so much so that Carroty Dick waxes jealous. Everybody, at length, is helped ; even the musicians. Nelly has taken care of the bailiffs, and given each of them a full tumbler. Isaacson makes her a polite speech, and Latcham says ditto to it. While pretending to listen to them, Nelly hazards a whisper to Frank. The punch speedily does its work, and everybody begins to laugh and talk loudly. There is a wonder- ful clatter of voices. The musicians strike up the prelude to a jig ; and in a twinkling the large table is carried off, and the room cleared for a dance. No difficulty in finding partners. The Bachelors have got theirs already, and lead off. There is a contest for pretty Peggy's hand ; and Carroty Dick is furious at losing her, and wants to fight his rival. But he is only laughed at. Jonas takes a turn with his %vife, but the speed is too great for him, and he soon loses wind, and gives in, being fairly blown. Til ere is a great shout. Simon Appleyard discovers the Mistletoe Bough, and as he whisks round in the dance, draws his partner under it. The damsel is coy, but she cannot escape. Another couple follows — another, and another, and another ! Fine fun it seems, for there is nothing but giggling and laughter. Peggy finds herself there again, and Dick tears his red locks. Even the fav*" cook is kissed ; and is so overcome she can scarcely gev out of the recess. While the merriment is at its height, Nelly comes up to Frank and proposes to him to take part in the dance. At first he declines, but Nelly wont take " No." The bailiffs are gro:;7n quite bland under the mellowing influence of the punch, and throw no obstacle in the way. Isaacson wants to dance with her himself; but to this Latcham objects; thouga Nelly, we fancy, would scarcely have consent.ed. THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 43 Fiank yields to her entreaties, and they stand up together ; the bailiffs, with their pipes, moving towards the door as a precautionary measure. This arrangement takes Jonas by surprise ; and he does not altogether approve of it ; but he wont inLxjr- fere. So he finishes the glass of punch with which he has been recruiting himself after his fatigues, and looks on. The couples go round merrily. Jonas is pleased to observe that Frank avoids the Mistletoe, though he passes close by it. The music plays faster and faster — so fast, the dancers can hardly keep pace with it. Eh day ! What's all this ] Jonas can scarcely believe his eyes. Are his wile and Frank going up-staire ? Yes, and very quickly too. They are laughing loudly all the time. And every- body else laughs too ; except Jonas — and the bailiffs. The latter laugh on the wrong side of their mouths, for they perceive they are tricked. Jonas rushes forward : so do the bailiffs. But the staircase is invested by a compact crowd. All the couples have stopped there ; and the minions of the law cannot force a passage. Simon Appleyard and the B-chelors drive them back. Frank and his companion watch the futile efforts of their pursuers from the galleiy above, and, alter laughing heartily at them for a moment or two — the crowd beneath joining their merriment — they disappear di)Avn the dark corridor. Jonas is lost in bewilderment, and thinks he must be in a disagreeable dream. But the bailiffs rouse him up by clapping him on the shoulder, and telling liim they hold him responsible for the prisoners evasion. The act of his wife is his own act. He must pay the debt himself. He must come down with Two Hun- dred Pounds. Jonas looks distracted. But an idea suddenly strikes him. " Come with me, gem'men, and you shall have him 44 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OE, yet/' he cries. " She means to let him out by a private door in the garden. You may catch him before he gets off." And he is hurrying out of the house, when Simon Appleyard's outstretched leg trips him up, and the bailiffs, who are following close after, tumble over him. The trio regain their feet as soon as they can, and set off towards the garden, attended by the majority of the assemblage, many of whom feel disposed to attempt a rescue, in case the fugitive should be captured. VIL HOW DU. PLOT VISITED THE OLD PRIORY CHURCH OF DUNMOW. Doctor Plot found it bitterly cold. The wind seemed to penetrate to his very marrow. Besides, he could scarcely keep his feet, owing to the slippery state of the road, which in some places was covered with ice. The steward, however, had a strong arm, and to this the old gentleman clung for support, and so kept himself from falling. Thus he toiled on, slipping and swearing, and grumbling incessantly at the severity of the weather, but exhibiting no inclina- tion to turn back. Mr. Roper found it very cold too, but he was well buttoned up, and had it not been for the gusts, which caught him at corners, and threatened to blow off his hat and wig, he would have cared nothing about the weather. To secure himself against mishap he tied his handkerchief over his head, and then bade lust^'" de- fiance to the hyperborean blast. They had quitted the main town, and crossing the bridge over tha frozen Ohelme^ were slowly moimting THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 45 tiie ascent leadmg to Little Dunmow — a work of some labour and difficulty to the old gentleman. Before they got half-way up the hill, night came on ; but the moon had arisen, and there was a brilliant array of stars in the firmament. The frosty particles on the hedges glittered like diamond spray. Very lovely was the scene around them in spite of the rigour of the season ; and indeed, the sharp frost rather contri- buted to the beauty of the landscape than diminished it. The wind had dispersed the mists usually hanging over the mai-shy grounds in the valley, and an uninter- rupted view was obtained of the course of the Chelmer for miles through the lowlands, its frozen surface sparkling in the moonlight. In other respects the country was beautifully undulating and diversified : in parts well wooded, and though the trees were robbed of their foliage, they formed fine dark masses on the hill sides. At some distance on the left, crowning the heights, might be discerned Stansted House, a noble mansion, belonging to Sir Gilbert de Montfichet. It was suiTounded by a park, and an enchanting efiect was produced by some clumps of timber on the slopes, and a few large single trees in the hollows. On the right, in the midst of another well-wooded park, was Monkbury Place, the residence of Mark Monkbury, Esquire, Lord of the Manor of Little Dunmow. Cot- tages and granges were scattered about at intervals; and nearer to Great Dunmow, and by the river side, were grounds and works showing where the woollen manufactures were carried on, for which the place had long been noted. Great Dunmow itself looked un- usually picturesque in the magical light of the moon, which gave a kind of spiritual beauty to every object it fell upon; and a cheerful hum arose from the town, as if the inhabitants were all making merry. A ruddy gleam burst from the windows of most of the cottages they passed, giving the little tenements an air of such comfort, that Dr. Plot was more thau 46 TUE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, once tempted to stop and warm himself at their fires. Mirthful voices and laughter generallv resounded from within. But this was not the case with a forlora- looking and solitary hovel, that stood by the road-side. No smoke issued from its chimney ; no sound of oheer- f Illness arose from it ; only a faint light struggled through its frosty panes. Its appearance was so miserable that Dr. Plot's compassion was aroused, and he peeped in. He beheld a wretched-looking object in female attire crouching before a few decaying embers. A farthing candle burnt on the table beside her, and revealed the forlorn condition of the place. A sad picture altogether. Dr. Plot felt terribly cold just then. The wind was keener than ever. It cut him like a knife. He was raising his hand to tap against the door, when the steward stopped him. "What are you about to do, sir?" Mr. Popev said. " That woman does not deserve your charity. A bad, mifschievous person, sir." " Miscliievous or not," Dr. Plot rejoined, "I cannot see her sit there and starve on such a night as this." So he knocked. With slow and tottering steps the woman answered the summons. A ghastly-looking creature, prematurely old, with haggard features, and grizzled hair. Dr. Plot appeared to recognise her ; he uttered an exclamation of surprise, and bethought him of the steward's caution. But he had gone too far to retreat now, so hastily thrusting a piece of money into the woman's hand, he departed. Not unseen nor unnoted, though. The woman had recognised him, also. She staggered back and saiiis into a chair; and it was long ere she regained her senses. On recovering, she fancied she had beheld a phantom. But a piece of gold was in her hand ; so it must have been a living person she had seen. She looked at the gold long and steadily, and then laid it down upon the table muttering : THE CUSTOM OP DUN MOW. 47 " He is come back to judge me — he is come back. Reparation must be made before I join lier in the gi-ave.'* Meantime, Dr. Plot and his companion toiled on. Thoughts of other days and other scenes, with which that haggard-looking woman had possibly been con- nected, passed through his mind, and he became per- fectly silent and self-engrossed. The wind might blow as keenly as it listed now. He felt it not. An icier breath than that from the north chilled him. The summit of the hill was at length attained, and before them stood the old Priory Church of Dunmow. All that remained of it at least, for the little structure, with its grey walls bathed in the moonbeams, its three round-arched windows, its solitary buttress, its tiny belfrey surmounted by a quaint extinguisher-like roof, was the mere fragment of a vast and stately pile, which in its time had formed part of a range of monastic buildings, covering many a rood around. The I'aggod state of the masonry at either end of the church showed the devastation that had been committed, and the rude and imperfect character of the repairs. Within, one aisle and part of the choir were all that remained of the original fabric. Of the long rows of columns once suppoi-ting the high-arched roof, how few continued standing ! The hand of the Destroyer had fallen heavily on the fane ; hurling down solid walls, and buttresses built in defiance of time ; toppling thf tower from its base ; desecrating the shrines ; stripping off the ornaments ; tearing up the tombs ; and shaking the pile to its foundations. Yet some little had been spared. Underneath a low-browed arch, encased like saintly relics in a coffer, lay the hallowed bones of the Lady Juga, by whom, early in the Twelfth Century, the Convent was founded, and dedicated to Our Lady. Of the various monastic edifices reared and endowed by the pious Juga, all were gone, save this fragment of the church. Not a stone to mark their site. And the holy men whom she appointed to abide there, were gone likewise : their very graves unhonoured and unknown. 48 rHL FLITCH OF BACON: OR, But her aslies had not been disturbed. A good spell guarded them. Would that the same benignant power had preserved from mutilation the tombs of the Fitzwalters ! Eleven generations of the house were buried here. An antique sculptured monument, bearing date 1198, covered the founder of the line, Sir Walter Fitzwalter, and his dame. Base hands and barbarous were those that shattered the fine recumbent figure of the old warrior, and 'twas pity he could not have burst his cerements and arisen to strike do^vn the sacrilegious wretch ! Between two pillars, near him, lay his granddaughter; erstwhile, as fair a piece of clay, and as free from dross, as ever death, before its time, gave back to native dust. The alabaster figure on the tomb strove to shape forth the fatal charms of the hapless Matilda Fitzwalter; fatal to herself, inasmuch as they roused the passions of the ruthless John, by whom she was poisoned for her resistance to his lawless love. Other graves were there belonging to the same an- cient family, though not so noticeable as these. Most of them were reft of their memorials ; the inscriptions defaced ; the brasses torn from the stones. Little else was left, unless it might be the Old Oak Chair devoted to the winners of the Flitch, wherein, as we have seen, it was Jonas Nettlebed's ardent desire to be enthroned. This was kept here, though seldom called into use. The venerable monastic fane had dwindled into a little parish church, with whitewashed walls, and a few pews enclosing its pillars. Walking up to the churchyard gate. Dr. Plot, whose feelings had evidently undergone some change since he had seen the haggard tenant of the hovel, expressed a strong wish to enter the little structure. The request might seem strange and ill-timed; but the steward, who by this time had apparently become acquainted with some of the old gentleman's peculiarities of cha- racter, raised no objection, but at once proceeded to a cottage hard by, and obtained the key from the sexton THE VISITANT TO THE TOMBS OF THE FITZWALTEES. P. 49. THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 49 Armed with this, Dr. Plot left his companion beneath a row of limes in the churchyard, and hobbling up to the porch where he nearly stumbled over the sharp stones on which the fortunate couples were required to ^ineel while reciting their vow of conjugal felicity, he inlocked the door, and closed it after him carefully as ho went in. Why does he go there alone, and at such an hour 1 We may not disclose the dark secrets of his breast ; but we can follow him, and see what he does. After a step or two he pauses, overcome by emotion. A chill as of death falls upon his heart. The moon- beams are streaming upon the tomb of the first Fitz- walter and his dame, and very ghostly the statues look. The old man advances towards them slowly, as if invited by their stony regards. He is talking to himself aloud, but in hollow, broken tones. What words are those he utters ? We dare not repeat them. They are such alone as the dead should hear. No human eye he fancies can behold him ; no human ear listen to him. His gestures become more frantic ; his language more wild and incoherent. No one who had lately seen him, would recognise him now. His features have assumed a wholly different expression ; very fearful to behold. Notwithstanding the death- like chill of the place, thick damps gather, like heat- drops, on his brow. The fit passes off, and he grows calm ; but so pale, he might pass for one of the marble group before him. Then he staggers towards the arched recess, beneath which the saintly Juga is deposited, and kneeling before the sepulchral cist, strives to pray. W]iy does he start back so suddenly 1 What sounds are those he hears? Can they be echoes of his own eighs and groans] They seem to issue from the very depths of the shell before him. He would fain speak, V)ut his tongue is stayed with wonder and teiTor. He iistens intently for a recurrence of the soimds. In vain. fiO THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, All is silent as the grave. He can see nothing ; for the moon having momentarily withdrawn her lustre, the place is buried in darkness. He puts forth his hand, and encountei's only the lid of the sepulchral chest. He touches it reverently. Beyond this, he meets nothing but the stone wall forming the back of the recess. He shakes off the terror that has numbed him, and asks, in a voice that seems to break harshly upon the stillness of the spot, "Who is there V* No answer. He repeats the question, more loudly and peremptorily. Still, the same result. At last he quits the church, in fear and perplexity. He finds the steward pacing up and down beneath the little avenue of leafless lime-trees leading to the porch, and questions him. Some one must have fol- lowed him into the church — or have been hidden there when he entered it 1 Mr. Roper declares this to be impossible. He has never quitted his post for a moment. No one could have passed through the door without being perceived ; and as to any one hiding in the church at such an hour without special reason, it is idle to think of it. What can have happened to occasion these inquiries? But Dr. Plot does not think it necessary to explain, — and the steward, who, before this, has begun to su«!pect that the old gentleman is not quite right in his upper story, is now confirmed in the impression. So, though his curiosity is considerably excited, he relinquishes all idea of gratifying it for the present, and takes back the key, without further remark. This done, they set off in the direction of the youDg gamekeeper's cottage, and speedily arrive at it. THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW, SI YIIL BOSE WOODBIITB. A PRETTY cottage. Just the spot for humble love to dwell in. No turtle doves could choose a nicer nest. Roses and honeysuckles adorned its whitened walls :n summer, and crept round its little windowa to meet the thatched roof above. The garden, too, though small, was tastefully laid out, and full of fi-agi*ant. shrubs and flowers. Odour or bloom, they had none now ; but they were there still, and ready to put forth new beauties and blossoms with returning spring. The holly hedge and the ivy on the wall alone showed any symptoms of verdure or vitality. A light was shining through the little diamond panes of the window, and as the curtains were not drawn across it, one might easily look in. The temptation was too strong for Dr. Plot. He laid his hand on his companion's aiTa to impose silence, opened thft gate with care, and walked noiselessly along the frczen walk. He did not require to be told whom he beheld. It could be no other than Rose "Woodbine. Her back was towards him, but the perfect sym- metry of her figure was distinguishable : the slender waist, the spreading shoulders, the slim neck, and finely-shaped head, with the fair abundant tresses gatliered behind it. Nor had he to wait long before her featui*es were fully revealed. The clock struck seven; and lajdng down the needlework on which she was engaged, Rose got up to prepare her husband's e\ening meal. Sl^ was taller than Dr. Plot expected. But what a love^ countenance ! Features cast in the softesti mould of beauty. Sweetness t*^ni the hearth as easily as if it had been a common fagot, and tossed it upon the blazing coals, where it presently egan to spit and crackle in emulation, Jonas could ^ot repress a groan ; but he was afraid to interfere, :est, peradventure, he might follow the log. " And now, landlord, what can we have for supper V vhe giant demanded. " The best inn in Essex must have an excellent larder, especially at Christmas time : cold chine, cold turkey, cold ham, cold pie, cold plum-pud- ding, — cold eveiything, no doubt. But I want srjme- thing hot — a carbonado — a grill — a devil. You iinderstand ?" " Yes, I understand well enough,*' Jonas rejoined — " but — ^but I'm extremely sorry ^" " More excuses !" Juddock interrupted, knitting his brows. " Landlord, I will have none of them. Supper I must have. A hot supper, mark me. The best must be forthcoming. No paltry makeshifts — n( miserable kickshaws. A couple of wild ducks — nicely roasted — I know they're in the larder, and who gave them — Mrs. N. has let me into the secret." " The devil she has !" Jonas muttered. " Oh ! the FUtch ! the FUtch ! What loiU become of it ?" " Then, in the way of tipple, you've some prime October, Tm given to understand — bright and pale as sherris — I mean to give my opinion upon it. And you've also got some wonderful old brandy I'm in- formed. I shall pronounce upon that, too." Jonas lifted up his hands in absolute despaii*. " The traitress ! to tell such a swillbowl as ihla o£ the old brandy." "You see I've not lost my time, landlord," Juddock continued, in a self-complacent tone. " Mrs. N. was very confidential during oiu* walk. I shall know all your secrets before long. There's one more I've learnt; but that's no secret. You expect to carry off the great 9iJ THE FUTCH OF BACON: OR, matrimonial prize of Dunmow — the Flitch of Baooiii Don't you wish you may get it ? Ho ! ho !" " Most decidedly I do, sir," Jonas rejoined, bristling up, and picking up a few crambs of courage, for his tenderest point had been touched by this sting. " Most decidedly I do, sir," he repeated, looking up, and staring the insolent giant in the face ; " I not only do wish I may get it, but by the marry maskins ! I am certain I shall get it ; and that's more. Have you anything to say to the contrary T " Oh, no ! nothing at all/' Juddock said, still in- iulging in his boisterous merriment. " If you and Mrs. N. choose to take the Oath, that's your concern, not mine." " To be sure it is ; and I don't think it at all likely you will be consulted on the occasion, sir." " Hum ! that lemains to be seen," the giant muttered. "Well, I admire your confidence. Now what will you bet, that you don't win this prize after all ?" " What will I bet f Jonas echoed, rather staggered. " I never do lay wagers." " But if you're certai q to win there can 1 e no harm," the giant rejoined. "I'll lay you Ten Thousand to Fifty, you lose the Flitch." " By the marry maskins ! those are long odds," Jonas exclaimed, opening his eyes to their fullest extent. " Ten Thousand Pounds would be better than the Flitch itself," he muttered. " I'll take him. But he wont pay. These empty boasters never do. How- ever, I'll risk it. — Done ! captain, — done," he exclaimed, aloud — " I accept your bet. You are to pay me 10,000^. if I win the Flitch ; but, if I lose it, I must hand you over fifty." "That's it exactly, landlord," the giant rejoined. "But I shan't give you such a chance as this without a slight reservation." " I thought not," Jonas observed, drily. "You must pay me a guinea a week till you're enabled to claim it. Not that J want the money — oh THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 09 no. I will hand it over to the High Bailiff ot iJunmow to be applied to some charitable pui*pose. But this will bring the bet to an issue. Are you agreed 1" " I think I may safely do it," Jonas reflected. " Foiii days have only to run before I can legally make tha claim — that's under the week. Yes, captain, I am agreed," he added, aloud. "Your hand upon it then," Juddock cried, giving him a terrible squeeze that again drew water to his eyes. " And now, the caution-money V " The whatr* Jonas cried. " The oTiinea. You must pay one week in advance." " Adzooks ! I didn't count upon that," the landlord exclaimed, with a blank look. " Well, here it is," he added, producing a well-filled leather-bag, which seemed to atti-act the greedy giant's attention, and taking a piece of gold from it. " And now, sir, what security am I to have that you will pay me the 10,000^.?" "What security]" the giant roared, putting on an offended look. " My word, sir. Is not that sufficient?" " It must be, I suppose. But I wovdd rather have your bond." " Bond me no bonds — I will sign none of them. My word is my bond, as it is with every man of honour. Captain J. J. never said the thing he didn't maintain. 10,000^. is yours, if fairly won. If not, the 50Vs mine. That's settled. Book the bet, while I pay a visit to the kitchen, and ascertain, from personal inspection, the state of the larder. I'm an old campaigner, and accustomed to foraging expeditions." So saying, he put his great clattering boots once more in motion, and marched off towards the back part of the premises. " Well, I think I have him any way," Jonas solilo- quised, looking after him. " If he don't pay the bet he'll be obliged to decamp — that's one comfort. But I Badly begrudge my guinea." The fat cook was in the kitchen, frying eggs and bacon for the household supper, when the giant made 100 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, his appearance, and on perceiving what she was about^ his appetite, which was perfectly Gargantuan, was so tickled by the inviting dish that he was fain to make an immediate onslaught ui)on it, and with that view endeavoured to snatch the frying-pan from her. But though taken by surprise, mistress cook would not submit to such an indignity, but threatened to knock the pan about his ears if he meddled with her ; and the menace had the desired effect, for Juddock turned away and began to prosecute his examination of the larder. This soon resulted in a discovery of the wild ducks, and many other good things which Jonas would have desired to keep in the background ; and tossing the birds towards the cook, together with a string of black puddings, the captain bade her prepare them, as soon as she could, for supper; telling her he would begin with a dish of eggs and bacon, and conclude with toasted cheese. These orders being authoritatively delivered, he returned towards the hall, and meeting Peggy by the way, after again chucking her under the chin, enjoined her to see them executed. The pretty chambermaid found the cook quite flus- tered by what had occurred, and uncertain how to act : but Peggy told her she had better do as the tall gentleman had bidden her, for missis was sure to be content, whatever master might be ; and, made easy by this assurance, the cook fini-jhed off the eggs and bacon, and sat down cheerfully, with Peggy, to pluck the wild fowl. On re-entering the hall, O.ptain Juddock found the host and hostess and all the j/rincipal guests assembled within it. Sir Gilbert de IVIontfichet had come down stairs, and was pacing the chamber, to and fro, by himself. Dr. Plot and Mr. I^oper were seated near the fire, and a screen being placed round their table, afforded them a certain soi b of privacy. Dr. Plot's presence was evidently a considerable restraint to thr young baronet, and he hailed Juddock's return as a relief, since it gave him some one to talk to, as well a» THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOi^. 101 fomtXhing to laugli at. Thinking Nelly looked uneasy and attributing her anxiety to a private lecture shu might have received from Jonas on his account, Juddock exerted all his powers of pleasantry for her diversion, and speedily succeeded in raising a smile upon her good-natured countenance. Nelly, it must be confessed, was not difficult to amuse. Very little did it. She felt every disposition to be entertained now, but her tendency to merriment was somewhat checked by thoughts of Frank, and speculations as to what had become of him. However, she made no allusion to the cause of her uneasiness, and by-and-by, it disappeared altogether : Juddock's merriment was contagious. As to Jonas, though he could not shake off his dislike of the captain, nor feel less distrust in him, he could not help secretly confessing that he was a very droll and diverting fellow, nor avoid laughing at some of K^^ jests. The wager was not without its effect in recon- ciling him to his troublesome guest. In anticipation of supper, and to give a whet to his appetite, Juddock called for a jug of ale, and rose still higher in the landlord's opinion by the hearty praise he bestowed on the beverage. Thus a better understanding prevailed among tlie pai-ty, when a loud rattling was heard at the window, and a " Yoicks ! tally ho !" given by a loud cheery voice, as if at a fox-chase, accompanied by the blowing of a huntsman's horn. " By the marry maskins ! there's Squire Monkbury,'* Jonas exclaimed. " I should know his halloa wherever I hoard it. Wife ! — Nelly ! — get ready to receive him directly ! — Coming, your honour, coming !" " Bless MS !" Nelly cried, looking rather annoyed, *' what can have brought the Squire here at this time of night, I wonder?" " Can't say," Jonas replied ; " but our business is to see what he wants. To the door, wife ! to the door ! What the deuce is the matter with the woman V Nelly, however, paid no attention to his injunctions. i02 THE FLITCH OF BACON; OR. but ran off. Before she got half-wav up the g^i-wit staircase her purpose was arrested by the appearance of Squire Monkbui7, who opened the door for himself, and stepped in. He was accompanied by Dr. Side- bottom, and followed by Paul Flitwick. IIL IN WHICH THE TABLES ARE SLIGHTLY TLTaN'ED Ul'ON CAPTAIN JUDDOCK ; AND JONAS BEGINS TO LOOK UP A LITTLE. " So HO ! little Nelly — so ho !" the squire shouted in his cheery tones, as he caught sight of the landlady on the staircase. " Wearing off, eh 1 Nay, that wont do. We shall be after you, and in full cry, too, if you attempt to give us the slip. Hark, back ! lass, hark, back! Why, you look as blooming and buxom as ever! — prettier, i'faith ! Nelly Nettlebed is an improve- ment upon little Nelly Nodder. Egad ! marriage seems to agree with you." " It agrees with me tolerably well, thank your ho- nour," Mrs. Nettlebed replied, demurely, and without raising her eyes. " Hope your honour is quite well, and the young lady, too ]" " Both hearty, thank ye, Nelly. Well, when you're tired of inn-keeping, you must come and take up your quarters with me. My women are all so abominably old and ugly I can't abide the sight of 'em. Besides, I want a housekeeper." " Greatly obliged to your honour, I'm sure," Nelly replied, still in the same demure tone, and maintaining the same downcast loolis ; " but I fancy you are very well provided for in that respect. Miss Bassingboumo is said to be an excellent manager ; and I'm sure you cannot complain of want of youth or beauty while she is with you." "Fairly enough answered, Nelly," the squire re- ARRIVAL OF THE SQUIKE, THE VICAR, AND THE OLD WHIITEU-IN AT THE FLITCH. P. 102. THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 103 joined ; "but then my niece may not stay with me for ever, you know. One must provide against a rainy SfiVf doctor." *• But not by carrying off Mrs. Nettlebed, I hope, Squire," Dr. Sidebottom rejoined, with a fat chuckle. " Her worthy husband, I fancy," pointing to the host, who stood bowing and scraping before them most obse- quioiLsly, *•' would object to such a proceeding." "Indeed I should, your reverence," Jonas replied. '• Nelly is i/he apple of my eye ; and I would not part vnth. her for a king's ransom. I am mainly, if not en- tirely, indebted for the treasure I possess to his honour himself, since he was instrumental in obtaining Nelly for me.** " Poh-poh ! say no more about it, man," the Squii-e rejoined. " No obligation at all." " Begging your honour s pardon," Jonas said, " I feel it to be a very great obligation, and one I shall never be able adequately to discharge. If your honour will recollect, you were good enough to mention Nelly Nodder to me — to paint her beauties in irresistible lan- guage — and to tell me " " 'Sdeath ! never mind what I told you," the Squire interrupted. " Your honour wont deprive me of the satisfaction of repeating it, I'm sure," Jonas pursued. " You told me you took an almost paternal interest in her, and would like to see her well married; adding, in the most obliging and condescending mannei, that she couldn't have a better or more suitable hiisband than mysell Her mother, your honour said, was a most respectable woman, and had lived with you as — as — dairy-maid — tiU ^" "Well — well, we know all this," the Squire said, looking rather disconcerted. " Till she married Tom Nodder, your cowherd, who didn't treat her as well as he ought, but went away, and left her with her sweet little babby — my own dar- ling little Nelly that was to be. So your honour had 104 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, natui-ally to look after the neglected mother, and be- came a sort of father to the infant : and a much better father you were than Tom Nodder : and took care of her, until Nelly coming of age, you wanted to see her comfortably settled, and thought I should make her a. fitting spouse — and so if I was agreeable (which of course 1 was) you would engage to bring the matter xbout." " Do stop his mouth, Nelly," the Squire said. " And while I was debating it in my mind," Jonas continued, holding his wife, who endeavoured to obey the Squire's commands, at arm's length, " you decided me by declaring you would give her a good wedding portion — no, there I'm wrongj that didn't decide me ; but what did, was the assurance given me by your honour, that little Nelly was such a sweet, amiable creature, that we couldn't fail to live happily together, and I was certain, through her means, to win the Flitch at last. That clinched it." " How fond your husband must be of hearing him- self talk, Nelly ! Have you done now, Jonas ]" the Squire asked. " Very nearly," the landlord replied. " To your honour's praise be it spoken, you made good your words in every particular. You brought Nelly and me together. Got us married. Gave the wed- ding portion. And now vou mean to give us the Flitch." '* Halt there, friend Jonas," the Squire cried. "That last donation is beyond my control. You must prove your title to it at the Court Baron, %nd take the Oath before I can confer it upon you. But these conditions I've no doubt you'll be able to fulfil — so I look upon your possession of the prize as matter of certainty. In recommending Nelly to you, I knew she would do us both credit ; and it's quite true, as you asserted, that I took, and always shall take, a paternal interest in her. Nelly wap THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW 105 always a good girl — though a bit of a coquette — weren't you, child ? — always one of my favourites." " Your honour has only one favourite now," Nelly observed, somewhat reproachfully, and looking up for the first time. " All others have given place to Miss Bassingboume." " And very properly so too," the Vicar remarkea " Very properly." " Well, I confess my niece is my chief favourite, the Squire rejoined, smiling. "Bab is a girl in a thousand, and suits my tastes exactly. You should see her with the hounds, Nelly. 'Tis a treat. Seat perfect, hand light as a fairy's. No fence can stop her. Clears everything. Always in at the death ; and I don't know how many brushes she has got, though she has only been at it for the last twelvemonth. Never had a fall. She knows every hound in the pack — Charon and Ring\vood, Towler and Jowler, — just as well as old Paul himself knows 'em." " Ay, that a daas, yar hon'r, and th' haands knaws ^er, too, reet well, blass her pratty fece !" the old whipper-in remarked. " 'Tis a picture to see her, when animated in the chase," the Squire continued, waxing enthusiastic; " her countenance lighted up with pleasure and ex- citement Talk about damask roses, and that sort of thing ; her cheeks would put all the roses in my gar- den to the blush. And as to her eyes, they shine, like — I don't know what — I'm a bad hand at a simile — but diamonds may do ; though they don't come up to the lustre of Bab's sparklers." " Udsbores ! a rare lass that, if all old Nimrod s«ys be true of her. Have you seen her. Sir G. V Captain Juddock inquired of the young baronet, with whom he had moved a little aside, on the appearance of the new-comers. " No ; she had not come to Monkbury, when I was iast in Essex — some fifteen months ago," Montfichet -ejoined. **I never heard <^f her imtil t'other day, 106 THE FLlTCn OP BACON; OR, when I was surprised to learn the Squire had a niece residing with him. At the same time, I was told of her wonderful achievements in the field. A perfect Diana, by all accounts." "But Miss Bassingboume does not devote hei'self merely to the pleasures of the chace, and out-door amusements," Dr. Sidebottom remarked. " Her great merit in my eyes consists in her being so companion- able and amusing in- doors." " Companionable ! to be sure she is," the Squire ro joined. " She'll rattle away to me by the hour ; smd when I'm tired of talking, will sing, or play the harp- sichord, or take a hand at dominos or backgammon with me." " Dominos and backgammon !" Juddock echoed, con- temptuously — " poor sport that ! Udsbores ! give me doublets or gleek. Hazard is our game, Sir G. We like to hear the dice rattle — ha !" " But as to housekeeping — your honour said the young lady looked after everything ?" Nelly inquired. " So she does," the Squire replied ; " so she does. — Bab looks after everything and everybody, and nie into the bargain. She takes care of house, garden, farm, stables, horses, cattle, sheep, pigs, poultry. Baking, brewing, pickling, preserving, cooking, she's mistress of it all. Nothing comes amiss to her, from the curing of a ham to the making of a marrow-pudding. Her hand is so light at pastry that you might blow her puffs away." *' And no great loss, either," Juddock observed. *' T prefer something substantial. Crust an ir ch thick^ at the very least. Puffs — pshaw !" " All trouble is taken off my hands, now," the Squire pursued. *' No more rating of servants. Under Bab's management, they never require scolding. How she does it, is the wonder. ' Miss Bassingboume likes to have this,' old Mosscrop, the butler, says — or ' Miss Bassingboume prefers that.* Everything is right Miss Bassingboume does. Her will la THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 107 law at Monkbuiy. Nobody grumbles, now, and there was plenty of gi-urabling before — grumbling, because the sloths had nothing to do, and at pre sent there is not an idle person about the place. I'm a confirmed old bachelor, as you Know, doctor. Feeling quite sure I should never be able to otfer any legitimate title to the Flitch, about the possession of which car worthy Jonas is so anxious, I never would many. But if I had chosen a wife, it should have been one on the model of my niece, Bab Bassing- boume." " She wouldn't suit us at all, Sir G.," Juddock re- marked. " Udsbores ! such a girl would govern us, as well as the servants. It's clear she manages /w'm." "It's a wonder Miss Bassingbourne don't marry, since she's so clever, and so beautiful," Nelly observed, in a tone of slight pique; "but I dare say she will, one of these days." "No, she wont," the Squire said. "I've ascertained her opinion on the subject ; and she is quite decided on re- maining single. To be sure, it's rather early to come to such a conclusion — seeing she is only just eighteen — but I think she'll adhere to it. At all events, I've had no hand in persuading her. I would never influ- ence her, one way or the other. She will have my fortune, married or not. But she can't bear young men." " Law ! that is strange," Nelly exclaimed. " I shouldn't have been surprised if she couldn't bear old ones ; but not to like young men, passes my compre- hension. As to changing her condition, I don't know but she may be right in remaining as she is." " Oh, fie ! Nelly — I didn't expect such a sentiment from you," the Squire said. " I hope it wa-s uttered inadvertently." " It was — it was," Jonas interposed hastily. "Your honour mustn't attach the least importance to it Do be careful," he added, aside, plucking her elbow. ** So it seems this matchless creature, who manages 108 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, ever3rthiiig and everybody, dislikes us ycting fellows, and will have nothing to say to lis," Juddock observed to Sir Gilbert. '■ Bodikins ! I should like to try her." " If I could only get Rose out of my head, I would soon satisfy the Squire whether his niece's objection to an entei'prising coxcomb, like myself, was firmly rooted or not," Montfichet exclaimed. " But hang it ! Rose lias got possession of my breast, and there's no dis- lodging her." " No necessity whatever to do so at present," quoth his mentor. " But zounds ! there's a vast deal of ex- aggeration in what we've just heard about the young lady. Old Nimrod has been sounding the trumpet, because he knew a rich young baronet was close at hand to listen to it. Only a lure, depend on't." " You know nothing of the Squire, Jack, or you wouldn't say so," Sir Gilbert replied. " He's the ho- nestest, most straightforward fellow breathing; inca- pable of doing anything unbecoming a gentleman. He is not aware of my presence, I'll be sworn !" And so it proved. For at that moment, the young baronet, who had hitherto been obscured by his tower- ing companion, placed himself within the Squire's ken, and was instantly hailed with a view holloa from the latter. "Wlioop! tallyho ! why, whVd ha' thought it? Oddslife! if it be not Montfichet! Welcome, Sir Gilbert — welcome back to Essex," the Squire exclaimed, ^idvancing to the young baronet, and shaking hands with him cordially. " You've been a long time away from us — leading a gay life in Lunnun, I dare say % That is, you'd call it a gay life ; but 'twouldn't suit me. You wont catch the old Squire in town, I can promise you. I should be stifled — I know I should. So many houses — such crowded streets — no air, fit to breathe — no horses worth looking at — no hunting, except the Epping Hunt — and that a mere cockney affair, fit only tor your isA and greasy citizens. No. no ; I'm content I THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 109 With quiet Essex, its fresh air, open countiy, and healthful amusements. No town-life for mc." " I'm well aware of your tastes, Squire," Montfichet rejoined r. " and so far agree with you, that I'm heartily sick of Town, myself" " Overdone it, eh, Sir Gilbert?" the Squire rejoined, with a laugh. " Pace too fast to keep up — ah ! — You left us all on f\ sudden — 1 did hear the leason — some- thing about a pretty girl, I think, but I forget what — and now you're come back on a sudden. Not in con- sequence of another lovo-affiiir, I hope ! Glad to s<.'C you again, at any rate. You must come over to Monkbury. Can't offer you any hunting just now, a£- you must be aware, owing to this confoundedly severe weather. Beg pardon, Doctor — I ought not to com- plain of the weather, since it's doing the country so much good, and benefiting my tenantry as well as myself; but a hard frost always makes a fox-hunter swear. But as I was saying, Sir Gilbert, you must ride over to see me. Come to-mon-ow morning to breakfast — to breakfast, mind, — and dinner afterwards, of course. I want to make you acquainted with my niece." "There it comes. Sir G.," the giant whispered the young bai'onet " Didn't I say so ?" " It will charm me to be presented to Miss Bassing- boume," Montfichet said, bowing his acknowledgments. ^ 1 hear delightful accounts of her." " I must prepare you for a strange madcap. Sir Gilbei-t," the Squire rejoined. " Bab's as wilful as a filly that has never known the bridle. You mustn't be surprised at any reception you may meet with from her. I let her have her own way completely." " You pique my curiosity, Squire," Montfichet sai(i •*rm all impatience to behold this charming^ untam>> able creature ; being vain enough to think I may forp an exception to the country bumpkins she has hitherto seen, and may be honoured with a smile.'* " Well, we shall see, Sir Gilbert, — we shall see. I 110 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OB, can't anawer for her. But who's your tall friend, ehr " Your pardon, Squire, — I ought to have introduced him before. Give me leave to present Captain Juddock to you. A town friend, who is staying with me at Stansted.*' " Happy to make his acquaintance," the Squire said, returning the giant's exaggerated congee; "and of course as he is your guest, I shall be happy to see Captain Juddock with you at Monkbury." " 'Twill aiford me the greatest pleasure. Squire, to accompany Sir G.," the captain replied, toning down his usually loud notes to a dulcet sweetness, and assum- ing, as well as he could, the air of a petit maitrc — " Foregad ! I shall be enchanted to behold that sylvan beauty, that lovely wood-nymph, your adorable niece." " More than she will be with you— or I'm much mistaken," the Squire observed, aside. "What a strange animal ! If those are town manners we have the best of it, even in point of behaviour, in the country. And now, my worthy host," he added to Jonas, " let us have a bowl of punch, of your best brev/ing. Will you help us to discuss it^ gentle- men?" Sir Gilbert^ readily assented, and Juddock very reluctantly declined, alleging that having ordered supper, he must of necessity eat it, before he should be ready for the punch. That duty performed, he would be delighted to join them. " What, a second supper. Jack ?" Montfichet cried. "On my faith, your appetite passes belief" The captain, however, was not to be laughed out of his supper, and as it was soon afterwards served, he sat down to it, alone — Sir Gilbert declining to eat anything, — and speedily demonstrated, that however largely they might have been called on before, his powers as a trencherman were still unexhausted. The «^ild-ducks were done to a turn, and even the Squire^ THE CUSTOM OF DUXMOW. Ill as he sat at an adjoining table with Dr. Sidebottom and Montfichet over a smoking bowl of punch, could not help expressing approbation at the perfect manner in which they were dressed. " Those ducks were a present to mo from Frank Woodbine, your honour," Nelly said. " Then you ought to have kept them for your own, or your husband's eating — for I fancy there wont bo much left for hashing to-morrow," the Squire rejoined, with a laugh. " There, do you hear that ?" Jonas observed to her in a reproachful whisper. " And now a thimble-full of brandy, landlord," Jud- dock cried. " Mind it must be the good old stuff Mrs. N. recommended — just to keep all quiet. And then, as soon as I've discussed the toasted cheese, and another glass of your excellent October, I shall be ready for the punch. By-the-by, your fat cook is a famous hand at black-puddings. I never tasted better. Takf it as a general order that I have some regularly at supper. D'ye hear, landlord ?" " Oh ! yes, sir, I hear," Jonas replied, pouring him out a glass of brandy, and wishing, internally, it might choke him. Instead of which, it appeared so satisfac- tory to the giant, that he immediately demanded a further supply, and Jonas having replenished the glass, was fain to make off with the bottle to prevent further claims upon it. " A perfect cormorant !" he muttered " There'll he a famine in the house, if he stays here a week." ^'You were speaking of Frank Woodbine, Nelly," the Squire remarked, as he helped himself to a glass of punch. "An uncommonly fine yoimg fellow ho is; and I should be glad to have him as one of my own keepers if he were not otherwise engaged. His wife I'm told is a beauty. Odd ! though they're tenants of mine, I don't happen to have seen her. But my stewaid, Boper, declares he doesn't know her equal.** 112 THE FLITCH OP BACOV; OR, "Mr. Roper is in the house now, yoi^r honour," Nelly remarked. " There, hy She fire — Avith that old gentleman." " Ah ! is he so T the Squire exclaimed. " Inquire if he will take a glass of punch with us, Nelly," " I fancy he's engaged on some particular busine?a with Dr. Plot," she replied. " Oh, don't disturb him, if that's the case. I'll see him belore he goes. Dr. Plot, you say, is with hint I never heard of such a person. A stranger, I suppose ]'* " F&n'ily physician to Sir Walter Fitzwalter, I V^e- lieve, your honour," Nelly said. " Ah ! was he ? — I don't remember the name — but it's so long ago, it may have slipped from my memory," " That old gentleman, whom you call Dr. Plot, must have more names than one," Montfichet remarked. " I have met him before — under particular circumstances which fix him upon my memory, and, indeed, he him- self has reminded me of them to-night — and he was then known as plain John Johnson." " Udsbores ! he seems to have as many aliases as Bully Dawson or Jack Ogle," Juddock shouted from the supper table. "A suspicious character," the Squire observed. " I must make some inquiries about him of Roper. I wonder what has become of my poor old friend Sii Walter r " Oblige me by no further allusion to him. Squire," Montfichet said, colouring angrily. "I crave your pardon, Sir Gilbeit, for my inad vertence. But I seem to forget everything. Let me see ; what were we talking about, before this question was started 1 Oh ! Rose Woodbine. Frank, they say, makes her an excellent husband. Next to our model pair here, I'm told, they're the happiest couple in Duij- mow. Do you chance to have seen this pxctty Rose, Sir Gilbert r "" VVhy, yes — I have seen her/* Montfichet replied, THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 113 with some hesitation. " But you must excuse my ^ving any opinion about her." Nelly here leaned towards the Squire, and whisjiered something in his ear, which caused the latter to whistle and feign to pull up one of his boots. '' Whew ! — put my foot in it again ! Take a glass )i punch with me, Sir Gilbert — and let's thank our /stai-s we're still bachelors. There's just as good fish in the sea as any ta'en out of it. In spite of all these man-ied folks may say, there's no life like a bachelor's life !" "Exactly my maxim, Squire," Juddock cried, drawing towards the table, and filling a tumbler with punch — " and I'll drink it in a bumper. Shake a loose leg as long as you can. I've seldom felt any disposition to matrimony, or if I have, there has always been this obstacle in the way, that the charmers by whom I've been smitten were married already." While uttering this speech, he cast a tender glance at Nelly, and kissed the rim of the glass to her before he drained it ; but she took no notice of his gallantry. Ever since the Squire's appearance, the landlady's de- portment had totally changed. Pretending not to obsei*\'e any of her admirer's leers and innuendoes, and turning a deaf ear to all his soft whispers, though he kept ogling during supper, now and then beckoning her to come near him, she kept entirely aloof, placing hei*self behind the Squire's chair, and leaving Juddock to the care of Tom Tapster and Jonas. The amorous swain did not know what to make of it. Having gone on so swimmingly before, this sudden coldness quite took him aback. Not being easily discouraged, how- ever, even after the failure of his last addres-s, he made an attempt to seize her hand as she passed near him, but she snatched it away hastily — mtli a look of real, or feigned displeasure. This was a gi*eat rebuff, and not unobserved of Jonaa. who had already remarked his wife's change of manner, and with infiiiute satisfaction, for although he attn- 114 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, buted it to its true cause, the presence of the Squire, he was not the less pleased by it, as it gave him a mo- mentary triumph over the impudent disturber of his peace, and he determined to improve his position as iar as he could. Juddock's last piece of familiarity gave him the desired opportunity. ^' I think you must observe, captain," he said, with sarcastic politeness, " that your attentions are not so agreeable to Mrs. Nettlebed as to make their repetition necessary or desirable. I shall take it as a particular favour if you will desist from them — as a very particidar favour, sir," " You are not perhaps aware, captain, that our host is a candidate for the Dunmow Flitch?" the Squire observed, with a laugh. " Oh, yes, I am," Juddock rejoined — I've a trifling bet upon it." "He calls 10^000^. a trifling bet," Jonas thought. " His ideas are as lofty as himself." " If you have betted against Jonas's chance, I think you are likely to lose," the Squire said. "At all events, I will venture to back him." " Oh ! your honour is too good," the little landlord cried, in a transport of delight. " My prospects begin to brighten again," he added to himself, "and the Flitch once more appears fully in view." "Well, to confess the truth. Squire," Juddock said, with apparently good-natured indifierence, "I would rather lose than win. But having always doubted the possibility of any couple in these days venturing upon making such a claim, I ofiered the bet." " I wonder whether he's in earnest," Jonas thought. "A man who can afford to throw away 10,000/., and not care about it, must be a great man, indeed." "Well, if no unfair advantage be taken, I think the claim will be successfully preferred in this instance," tlie Squire said. " I've every reliance on Nelly." **I trust I shall do nothing to forfeit your honour a THE CUSTOM OP DUXMOW. 115 ffood opinion," the little hypocrite replied. "Jonas knows how devoted I am to him." An affectionate embrace was the landlord's reply. " How easily some folks are bamboozled 1" the giant muttered. '• You've heard, I suppose, there is another claimant besides yourself, Jonas i" the Squire said. ** Frank Woodbine your honour means," the landlord replied. " But I don't think he's likely to get it. I know him to be an unfaithful husband ; and I've evi- dence to prove it." "You surprise me greatly," the Squire said. " Put me in possession of that evidence, landlord," Sir Gilbert cried, quickly. " I'll make it worth your while. Rose ought not to be left in ignorance of the worthless character of the man she has chosen." " Step forward, then, Paul Flitwick, and declare what you have seen," Jonas exclaimed. " This is my evidence against Frank, Sir Gilbert, and his honour knows whe- ther it may be relied upon." "Maun a do't, yar han'rl" Paul inquired, scratching his frosty poll, and looking at his master. " Do it — no !" the latter cried, with a sudden explo- sion of wrath. " What the deWl business have you to meddle with other people's affairs, sirrah ! Do you set yourself up for a saint, you hoary old sinner ? Were you always true to your own wife, ehl And how would you have liked a d — d babbling old cur to bewi*ay you? Keep a quiet tongue in your head in future, or I'll strip your red coat from your back, I will, you talkative hound. You want the whip, sirrah — and you shall have it, too, if you're in fault again." Then turning from the crestfallen whipper-in, who looked the very picture of despair, he addressed the landlord. " I wont allow mischief to be made between man and wifa There may be truth in what you have asserted, or there may not. Whatever it be, the seeds of unhappi- ness must not be wantonly sown. I therefore lay my IIG THE FLITCH OP DACON : OK, strict injunctions upon you, Jonas, that you say nothing more relative to this matter, whatever induce- ment may be held out to you to speak, until you have laid the full particulars before me. I will then decide on what is best to be done." Having thus delivered himself, the Squire became somewhat mollified by old Paul's penitent looks, and thinking, perhaps, he had been rather too angry with him, he offered him a glass of punch. '•' Never mind what old Nimrod says. Sir G.," Jud- dock whispered the young baronet, as he rose from his chair. " I'll worm out the secret for you. You can use it as you think fit. Frank Woodbine ought to be very much obliged to you. Squire," he added. " I'm sure I should, under the circumstances." And walking past the old huntsman, who was still sipping his glass of punch, he whispered : " A guinea for what you know about Frank Wood- bine." " Gie me twanty — fafty — a wadn't," Old Paul replied, with a grin. ^' Nawt wad mey me disobee inester. Na — na." Juddock then moved towards Jonas, and plucking his sleeve, said in a low tone : " Landlord, a guinea for your proofs against the gamekeeper. It's your interest to tell, you know." '' The guinea first ?" Jonas replied, in a whisper. Juddock slipped the money into his hand. '• Now 1** he said. " Well, then," Jonas replied, " my proofs rest with Paul Flitwick. Take him to Mrs. Woodbine and force him to disclose all he has witnessed." The giant perceived he was sold. He made no complaint, however, but resumed his seat. The movei ment had not passed unnoticed by the Squire, who guessed its import, but' as he felt sure his caution would be attended to by both parties, he did not think it worth while to interfere. " Kgad ! landlord," Juddock exclaimed, " you deserve THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. , i 7 to be ra'iiked among the benefactors of your species, riince you brew such punch as this. It has quite put my voice in tune, and if not disagreeable to the com- I)any, I'll sing 'em a song. Sorry, my dear Mrs. N.," he added, turning to Nelly, " that I don't happen to recollect anything of an amatory or sentimental nature. My ditties are chiefly Bacchanalian. I'll give you a few words of caution which I'm in the habit of addressing to a landlord, when I suspect him of a design of putting me oflf with a bad bottle. They'll be quite out of place here — where all is supei'latively good. \o matter." Whereupon, he broke into the following melody : E])z OH[inc--IDnnftcr's Btclaration. 'i'C ALL AXD SUNDRY WHOM IT MAY CONCERN. I. Thl Toper who knows how to empty his can, Is not half so afraid of a highwayman. As he is of indifferent tipple : With the last a stout fellow may fi^ht for his purse; Of the otlier the consequence certam is worse, Down the throat if permitted to ripple. II. If acetose claret I happen to sip, *Tis my wish, as the beaker I ^sh from my hp, Tiiat my throat to a short span would dwindle ; But when I get hold of the vintage I prize, I care not, although it should shoot out in sjse. Until like a crane's neck it spindle. Jii. All wafry f<:,tations I Itt them alona And never will use such, until I am grcwr A Hermit, and dwell in a cavern ; But then the good Anchorite brandy must get (An anker, right often,) his whistle to wet, Or else he will siirli for the tavern. Ub THE FLITCH OP BACON: OB, IV. My maxim is ever to drink of the best. And in that I resemble sound soakers at rest •, Our Fathers we always should follow : Old customs, old manners, we never should auit. Or the world will judge us, as some folks judge of it. And declare our professions arc hoUow. The laughter occasioned by this song awakened Dr Sidebottom, who, overcome by the coldness of the weather, or the potency of the punch, had fallen com- fortably asleep in his chair, and now, after indulging in a most portentous yawn, exclaimed : " Was I dreaming, or did I hear allusion made to Sir Walter Fitzwalter ?" " You were dreaming, Doctor," the Squire rejoined, with a slight cough to call his attention to Sir Gilbert de Montfichet, who again began to frown. The hint was disregarded. " Well, it's very strange," the Vicar pursued — " I thought I heard you speak of him, and directly after I fancied he was come back again to dwell in his old mansion." " What, here !" Jonas exclaimed. " I'm veiy glad it was nothing more than a dream, your reverence." " Dreams sometimes foreshadow coming events," Dr. Sidebottom remarked, gravely ; " and I have known some remarkable instances of their verification. I thought Sir Walter had returned to the hall of his ancestors. I saw him as plainly as I see " The rest of the sentence expired upon his lips. "As you see what, Doctor?" the Squire asked. "Look there! — look there! Do you see nothing, sir?" "Gracious heavens! can it be possible 1" the Squif^ ejaciUated, following the direction of the Vicar's gaze, and becoming, like him, transfixed with astonishment, not wholly free from a superstitious dread, which pre- sently diffused itself throughout the assemblage, thougli they .scarcely knew whj. THE CUSTOM OF DU>'1I0W. 119 The screen had been removed, disclosing the figure of Dr. Plot, who, having risen to his feet, continued for a few minutes to regard the grouj) fixedly. " Why, that's the impostor you were inquiring about," Montfichet said. " That's John Johnson, who now styles himself Dr. Plot." '* John Johnson or not, he's no impostor," the Squire rejoined, in a low, earnest tone. "But I'll have it out of him — Pll know who he is," Montfichet exclaimed. " He bullied me just now; but, by heavens! he shall not do so again with im- punity." " Sit down. Sir Gilbert," the Squire said, with a cer- tain look of authority not to be resisted. " Let him preserve his incognito if he will." "You know him, thenl" The Squire nodded. " Why not address him T Monkbury shook his head. " You, also, appear to recognise him. Doctor?" Sir Gilbert said, turning to the Vicar. " Speak to him." " Not I — unless he addresses me fii-st," Dr. Side- bottom replied, in a low, solemn tone. " 1 believe it's the old gentleman in person, Sir G.," Captain Juddock whispered. " Don't you notice his club-foot 1 No doubt he has managed to conceal his tail." " It certainly is very mysterious," Montfichet re- joined, staring at the singular personage on whom all oyes were fixed, and beginning to be infected with the general feeling of dread. This feeling rather increased as Dr. Plot advanced towards them, slowly, and with as much stateliness as his deformed limb would permit. There was a melan- choly kindliness in the regards which he addressed ex- clusively to the Squire and the Vicar — but chiefiy to the former. As he drew near, Monkbury, who had looked hai'd at him all the while, stretched out hit handj but said nothing. 120 THE FMTCH OF BACON: OR, Dr. Plot shook his head mournfully, murmuring, rather than giving distinct utterance to the words — ** Not yet ! — not yet !" though what he meant to say seemed to reach the Squire's ear. He then raised liia thin finger to his lips; bowed gravely to the Vicar, who respectfully returned the salutation; and imposing silence on him by a gesture similar to that addressed to the Squire, moved silently on like a ghost. On — on towards the staircase. So impressive, so singularly awe-inspiring was his manner, that no one ventured to address him. Though half-disposed to disobey the Squire's injunctions, Mont- fichet felt his courage forsake him, and he sat still and speechless. Juddock held his breath, as the singular being passed him, and drew in his huge outstretched shanks to make way. Jonas and his wife looked on in mute wonder, and Paul Flitwick rubbed his eyes, as if doubting whether they served him tinily. Arrived at the foot of the staircase. Dr. Plot en- countered Peggy, who had just descended with Carroty Dick, and taking a candle from her, slowly mounted them, and passed along the gallery : — all eyes following him, and the same hushing silence prevailing, till he disappeared down the dark corridor. Everybody then breathed more freely. The first to break silence was Jonas. " Why, I declare he knows his way about the house as if he were used to it," he said. " He has gone straight to his room, though no one has shoN\Ti it to him." The next to find utterance was Paul Flitwick, who, rushing up to his master, with his rough white locks standing on end, ejaculated, — " Yai' han'r seed un "? Ya knaw'd un?" ^'Saw liim, and knew him, too, Paul," his master rejoined. " But, as I intimated just now, a discreet man will see everything, and say nothing. You un- derstand." The old whipper-in nodded his >>cad, and retreated. THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 121 * I (lidn't perceive any caudal appendage ; never- theless, I believe it to be his Satanic Majesty in person, or one of his principal envoys," Juddock said. " J shall be afraid to remain in the house." " A man of your thewes and sinews confess himself afraid T the Squire exclaimed, in contempt. " You ought to fear nothing of mortal mould, and he you have just seen is fashioned like yourself — though of somewhat better clay," he thought. " Ah ! Roper, Tm glad to see you," he added, as the Steward, who re- mained near the fire till Dr. Plot had disappeared, now advanced. "Sit down! sit down!" he said, with a significant look at him. " We must raise our spirits again, which this unexpected incident has somewhat damped. Jonas, another bowl of punch !" IV THE ghost's room. Down the dark corridor, at the very end, lies the Room. The fourth door, and the last. Tread carefully. The boards are rotten in places, and you may perchance fall through them, and break your neck upon the pavement beneath. Shame to leave thera in such a dangerous condition. Yet this wing of the Old House is so little frequented, it seems Bcai-cely ^\ oi-th while to keep it in repair, Jonas thinks. A few years more, he says, and it wiU be altogether in ruins ; if, indeed, it will last so long. Peep into those disused chambers as you pass by ; preserv^ing amid woful dilapidation an air of former splendour. Many a lovely dame has rested there in days gone by. Conjure up, if you can, those phantoms of delight. Re-people the deserted chambei-s, and furnish forth again their crumbling walls with the glories of the looms of Flanders. Strange noises the rats make ! They swarm in this l23 THE ITLITCH or BACON: OR, part t>l the house ; and squeak and gibber, like the sLeeted dead, beliind the hollow wainscots ; scampering after each other, and detaching fragments of wood and bits of mortar in their play. The clatter increases. Are the noxious creatures bursting forth in legions to devour us, as they did Bishop Hatto, in his Tower on the Khine? No. 'Tis only the cat that has jumped doAvn the chimney, and brought two or three loosfe bricks along with her. Shut the door, and leave grimalkin there, to keep those pestilent rats quiet. How the casements rattle ! The wind finds its way through the broken panes. Shield the light, or it will be extinguished. Those windows look upon the garden ; and the tall trees in front of them cast a shade over the passage, making it gloomy, even at noontide, when the sun shines brightest. Well ! we have arrived without accident. Here is the Room. But stop ! before entering it, let us note the glass- door at the end of the corridor, communicating with a flight of wooden steps outside, that descend into the garden. Through that glass-door, and down those steps, Nelly and Frank Woodbine hurried, when the latter escaped from the bailiffs. Hastily traversing an arcade below, running parallel with the upper corridor, and formed of open transom-windows of oak, supported by a wall, breast-high, they made their way by tortuous passages to the cellars where Frank was locked up, as already narrated. But it is not merely in reference to this circum- stance that we desire to call attention to the glass- door. Things less substantial, it is asserted, than th( innkeeper's buxom wife and the young gamekeeper, have glided through it, without stopping to draw back the bolt. A female figure, enveloped in a shroud, has issued, at dead of night, from the adjoining chamber, and passing, with noiseless footsteps, along the corridor, has disappeared by that outlet. This phantom Carroty Dick, and others of the household, have witnessed with THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 123 their own eyes ; and they will swear to the timth of the story. Nay, more, pretty Peggy happening to be alone on one occasion in the passage, was frightened almost o^it of her wits, by seeing a ghastly face, with hollow eves glimmering like fen-fires, stare at her through the door-panes. No one believes in ghosts now-a-days. Superstition lias not a leg left to stand upon ; or rather modem philosophy and scepticism have striven to cut tho ground from under it. Yet, in spite of our incredulity, very few of us like to sleep in a haunted room; and if put into one by chance, in an old country-house h^^ing fearful traditions connected with it, our slumbers are apt to be disturbed, though we care not to acknowledge our nocturnal alarms next morning at breakfast. But a veritable Ghost's Boom now awaits us. Let us enter it boldly. A cheerful fire at any rate, and ample provision in that basket of wood for keeping up the blaze. Menily crackle the logs upon the hearth ; the flaming pile being supported by andirons, with heads like brazen shields. The chimney-piece is immense ; advancing far into the room, and springing to the very ceiling. In the centre of the upper compartment, once fairly painted and gilded, may be discerned the proud blazonry of the Fitzwalters. On either side of the many-quartered 'scutcheon, and placed in a little niche, is a saintly image ; the outer pilasters are crowned with busts. The floors are of black polished oak j the wainscots of the same wood, and partly hung with faded tapestry ; one piece of which, bearing dale 145C in worked with the following legend : IE pran Gots blcssc tf)e lift ©f Sir mahcx .f it^tDaltcr, ^fs SKRilr, anti all t!)C CDhilHrcn tfjat toiti) f)im toonnts, T^ia fibc Baug^tcrs anli scbcn Sonncs. Ajiother piece of tapestry, yet older, represents tha good Samaritan, engageil iii Ids office of charity. HeT« 124 THE FLITCn OF BACON: OR, and there are portraits of the family painted upon panels. The ceiling is enriched with elaborate tracery, and there is a deep bay-window with stained glass in it, across which, if need be, a heavy curtain can be drawn. The moon shines through the window now. Not much furniture, but what there is, ancient, and in keeping with the room ; consisting of a carved oak livery-cupboard, a high-backed chair or two with deep cushions, a tabouret, covered with faded velvet, and a small dressing-table, on which a fringed cloth is spread, near the window, with an antiquated and almost uselesfe mirror, leaning over it from the wall. On the opposite side of the recess is an old embroidered prie-dieu, with a crucifix placed above it. Neither have been dis- turbed, out of respect to the memory of the last ill- lated Lady Fitzwalter, who was wont to ofier up hei prayers there. There arc two deep roomy closets, screened with arras : one opposite the fireplace ; the other near the prie-dieu. Facing the window, to the left of the door, there is a great gloomy bedstead. Its lofty tester of black walnut-tree touches the ceiling; its twisted pillars and carved back are of the same dusky material ; and the thick curtains, once of purple stuff woven with gold thread, have acquired by age a sombre, funereal look. The fire burns cheerily ; the moon shines brightly ; yet neither firelight nor moonlight can dispel that chamber's gloom : a gloom, perceptible to the feelings rather than to the sight, and communicating an unde- fined sense of awe and mystery. Within that room, you feel, as it were, on the confines of the spiritual world, and, in spite of all efforts to the contrary, begui to yield to the influence breathed from that dread un- known region. Thoughts to make the flesh creep, and tlie blood run cold, irresistibly assail you, and will not be chased away. Imagination peoples the brain wifch phantoms ; and these distempered creations seem to have a sti'ange and inexplicable connexion with visionary beings of a different order, which await but the fitting I THE CUSTOM OF DUNITOW. 125 moment, when the intruder on their domain shall be duly impressed by their shuddering influence, to appear and hold communion with him. No one, who has slept within that chamber, of late years, but has experienced sensations like to tliese, however resolutely he may have battled with them. If he has escaped an actual supernatural visitation as well, he may esteem himself singularly fortunate. Those who have beheld the ghost do not desire a repetition of the sight. With this chamber the tragic history of the hapless Lady Fitzwalter, whose spirit still haunts the scene of her earthly sorrows, is intimately connected. Within it occurred most of the events that brought her life to an untimely close. Here she came as a bride, when her surpassing beauty held captive Sir Walter's affec- tions, until jealous doubts and fancies estranged them. In it was bom their son ; whom his father, perplexed by the tormenting fiend, would not look upon; and whom his mother, deeming the babe's innocent face would melt the moody man's self-hardened heart, carried to him, well-nigh causing the poor child's destruction. Here her tears were plentifully shed after that sad occurrence ; and feelings of resentment at first en- kindled by the wrongful suspicion entertained of her, and the harsh treatment she experienced, were gradually softened by retiuning love. Here took place the mis- construed and fatal interview between the afflicted lady, anxious to regain the place she had lost in her husband's heart, and their mutual friend ; interrupted so terribly by Sir Walter himself, guided by the faith- less confidante. Sir Walter came through the closet opposite the fire- place, which communicates by a secret door with the next chamber, and as he drew aside the arras, and gazed upon her with flashing eyes and infuriated coun- tenance, the unfortunate lady felt she was doomed, and that no time would be allowed her for justification. Yet she prevented instant bloodshed. The blow that I2G THE PLiicu or BACOW: OR, was to pierce the bosom of a friend was not stnick then. O, the agony of that night ! when husband and friend were gone ; pledged to meet at daybreak in mortal conflict. In vain did she seek out Sir Walter, and protest her innocence : in vain supplicate for mercy. He was deaf to all she said. And Heaven seemed equally deaf to her prayers, for though she passed the whole night on her bended knees in earnest entreaties for its interference, the catastrophe was not to be averted. A note from her lord, written in pencil at the place of meeting, informed her that Montfichet was killed. On receipt of it, she shed no more tears, and prayed no longer. Rising up as if to utter imprecations upon his slayer, she became suddenly dumb. The torpor ot despair had seized her. She was indeed alone. Her child had been sent away by Sir Walter's command, and no one knew what had become of him. Thus the only link that might have bound her to the world was snapped asunder. What had she to live for now 1 O ! if this chamber could but echo back the groans and heart-piercing ejaculations she uttered ! And such woful sounds have been heard within it, as if the poor lady were weeping and lamenting still. Death would seem to have brought her neither rest, nor respite from earthly woe. Perhaps, because her end was sinful. She was found, one morning, lifeless and cold within her bed, with an empty phial of laudanum in her grasp — thus proclaiming the manner of her death. She could not have lasted long, for she was wasted almost to a skeleton. But that did not make hei crime the less. In this very bed they say she died. And so the Koom came to be haunted. THE CUSTOil OF DUXMOW. 127 TOUCMIKG ▲ MYSTEKIOUS BOX FOUND IN THE CLOSET; AND ITS CONTENTS. Two persons are in the Room just now. One, seated on the edge of a large black portmanteau, let on end, and inscribed with the name of Dr. Plot, is wliistling in a low key the air of the lovelorn ditty — " I am a poor Sheplierd undone,'' — and gazing senti- mentally at the crackling logs, fancying they typify his own scorched condition. The other, having put the place in order as well as she can, is vainly trying to polish the surface of the dim old mirror, in which she beholds no flattering reflection of a very pretty countenance. " A plague on the glass ! how wrinkled and ugly it makes a body look," Peggy cried, abandoning her task in despair ; — " 1 can't abide a mirror like this, and it I'd my own way, I'd break it into fifty shivers, that I would." " Jist becos it tells truth, and shows you as you be, Peggy," Carroty Dick replied. " Now that's the sort o' plain-spoken glass I likes.'* "But you don't think me old and ugly, I'm sure, Dick 1" the little syren rejoined, laying her hand afiec- tionately on his shoulder. And as the enamoured ostler looked up and met her tender eyes, he couldn't, for the life of him, say he did. Still he felt very jealous ; the recollection of several circumstances that had recently taken place galling him sorely. " No great matter what I thinks, Peggy,** jift said. " My love's o' no mich consequence, it seems ; an' I'm no worth havin' when any one better is by." " How can you tell £,iich stories, Dick ?" Peggy re- joined, coaxingly. "You've been ii. a shocking ^^ 128 THE FLITCH OF KA.CON: OR, humour all night, and deserve scolding, that you do, you cross thing." "And what's put me in a bad humour?" Dick asked, reproachfully. "Haven't I had cause? Didn't I sec ^" " Stuff and nonsense ! you've seen nothing," she in- terrupted, stopping his mouth. " It's all fancy. Well, now, I've quite done here, so we may go down stairs. Just heap a few more logs on the fire. The room looks tolerably comfortable ; but I wouldn't sleep in it for all Essex, Do you know, Dick, they say she died in that bed?" « No ; do they? What, the poor lady?" " Yes. But don't let's talk of her. I feel a sort of shivering and all-overishness, whenever I think of the face I saw at the glass-door. Oh ! good gracious ! what's that?" "Only the portmantle a-tumbled do\vn," Dick re- joined. " I hope there be nothin' wrong in it. It be a smartish size, but mich too sma' to hold a man." " Oh ! Gimini ! You don't think there's a man in it, Dick?" "' If I did, I'd make short wi' him. I'd stick the red-hot poker down his throat. But the portmantle's woundy heavy, anyhow. My back aches consumedly wi' carryin' on it up-stairs." " Shouldn't you like to see it opened, Dick?" " No — I cjan't say I've any sich curiosity. But my stars, Peggy ! look theere !" "Wh — where? — wh — what is it you see?" she in quired, in great trepidation. " The old gentleman," Dick rejoined. "The old gentleman — below?" " Yes — yes — no — no — ^not him — the old gentleman down stairs. Look at that picter," pointing to one of the painted panels. " It's as like him as two peas." " So it is, I declare," Peggy replied, examining the portrait — " only younger, and a great deal better lookins.'* THE CUSTOM OF PUNMOW. 12C ** O, Peggy, you're like missis — always set on good looks." "Not a word against missis, Dick, i wont allo^ it. My aim is to resemble her, and if ever you and J come to be married, I trust we shall get the Flitch." " I'm afeard we stand but a poor chance of it, Peggy," Dick replied, scratching his red poll. " That may be your opinion, but it's not mine, sir," she rejoined, sharply. " Talking of likenesses, whom do you think this picture resembles?" pointing to another panel, on which was represented the kneeling figure of a knight in complete armour, with his helmet lying near hiuL "Whom do I think ? why, Frank Woodbine, to be sure. It's jist his nose an' chin — and his brown curly locks." " Right, Dick- 'Tis Frank to the very life. I won- der I never noticed the likeness before. But I've always been too much frightened to look about me carefully. Do you know, Dick, I'm dying to see the inside of those two closets " " Dear ! deai ! how full of cur'osity you be, Peggy !" " It's the priv'lege of my sex, Dick. I'll just take a peep now. Keep close behind me, in case anything should appear." As she spoke, she went to the nearest closet (Dick following her), and cautiously, and not without mis- giving, lifted the arrfts. Nothing met her view except a box, which her quick eye detected in an out-of-the- way corner. " Bring it out, Dick," the inquisitive damsel ci-ied. ** I must have it opened." The ostler obeyed. The box, on examination, proved to be locked. " Plague on't ! how provoking !" Peggy exclaimed. * I wonder whether we can find the key. I dare say it's n the closet." After some search, the object of their search was bund on the floor, where no doubt it had dropped, and Peggy's curiosity seemed in a fair way of gratification. 130 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, On being opened, however, the box was found to con- tain only an old white handkerchief, with several dark brown stairs upon it. One of these, deeper, darker, and larger than tiio rest, attracted Peggy's particular atten- tion. She guessed at once the cause of the spots. Holding up the handkerchief to the astonished ostler, whose red locks bristled with terror, she exclaimed, in thrilling accents — " Blood, Dick — ^blood ! Murder has been done here — murder !" " Lor' bless us ! I hope not," the ostler replied. "It has," she rejoined. "Stay! there's somethmg inside this handkerchief, that may lead to the detection of the murderer." And she unfolded it with trembling hands. Two letters, and a small phial. The first note she touched was a mere scrap of ][>aper ; the writing on it traced in pencil It was addressed to Lady Fitzwalter. With prying eyes she devoured it. Brief and temble, it ran thus : " This handkerchief is dyed in the life-blood of your lover. With it I have wiped the blade that has pierced his heart. Never again will you behold the Inisband you have dishonoured, but who is now avenged. Never again will you behold your child, who shall neither bear my name, to which he has no title, nor hold my estates, to which he has no rightful claim. Live in peace if you can. W. F W.'* Peggy read this savage missive twice over, without fully comprehending its import, and then turned to examine the other letter. It was addressed to Sir Walter Fitzwalter, and the seal, which was of black wax, was still unbroken. The chambermaid had few scniplea ^ and if she had, her curiosity was so highly excited, that it would have overcome them now. Ac- cordingly, she was just on the point of opening it, when her purpose was arrested by a startling sound from the closet. THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 131 Some one appeared to be stirring within it, though bhe knew it to be quite empty. Consulting Dick with a look, she read in his white cheeks that he had heard the strange sound too, "See who it is," she whispered. Dick shook his head. " Hist 1" he cried. A profound sigh — such as only could proceed from a heavily-laden breast. At the same time, a singular vibration was felt throughout the chamber. And the candle seemed in their eyes to burn blue. As they looked at each other in affright, the ari*aa was wafted forward. It might be by the wind — though how came the wind to blow there] More likely, aa it seemed to them, the spectre was coming forth. They saw nothing more. Leaving the box where it vras, and the letters and bloodstained handkerchief on the floor, they made their way out of the roonj. Flying along the corridor, and thinking the ghost was at their heels, they never stopped till they reached the great gallery overlooking the hall. They then con- sidered what was to be done. After awhile, Peggy, regaining a little confidence, and calling to mind the state of disorder in which she had left the room, was for going back to remove the damning proofs of her curiosity, and put the mysterious box into the closet ; but no pei*suasions could induce Dick to accompany her, &nd she dared not return alone. So, since there was no remedy, she was obliged to submit ; her only chance being to attend the old gentleman to liia cham- ber, when she might be able to remove the evidences Against her while he was by. This she resolved to do; but when Dr. Plot took the candle from her at the fook of the staircase, where she had held herself in readiness for his departure for the night, his looks so alarmed her, that quite forgetting what she was about, she did not even recover her presence of mind till he had disap- peared- It was then too late, and discovery was inevitable. But now seized by a new curiosity to 132 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, ascertain what the old gentleman did on finding the things, she coaxed Dick to bear her company as far as the gallery ; but it took full half an hour's persuasion of the mop<} wheedling kind to induce him to move another step. However, she accomplished her purpose at last — as a woman generally contrives to do, when resolved to carry a point — and the end of their mut> tered conference was overheard by Fi'ank Woodbine, while concealed in the secret recess. Treading on tiptoe, they gained the door. They livStened, and thought they heard a deep groan Another, deeper still — ^then all was silent. No key- hole through which they could see what was going on inside — no crevice in the boards to answer the same purpose. Kesolved not to be balked, however, Peggy had just made up her mind to knock, on some pretence or other, when her arm was grasped by Dick, who exclaimed, in accents of wildest terror, "There it be !— there it be 1" At once comprehending his meaning, and only ven- turing to cast a side look at the glass-door, behind which she fancied something white could be distin- guished, she instantly took to her heels with her com- panion. On reaching the gallery, their terror was brought to a climax by the unmistakable appearance of a mail-clad phantom. Though Peggy was well-nigh thrown into fits at the sight of this appalling spectre, so much more dreadful than anything she could have imagined, she did not fail to mark its resemblance to the knightly figure painted on the panel in the Haunted Chamber. The features were the same, though stained with blood, and more ghastly. It must be the old knight come from hig tomb in the Priory Church to punish her indiscretion. Scream after scream, — enough to bring the Old House about her ears ! Poor Dick could scarcely sus- tain her. THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 133 VL IV WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT THERE MAT BE MORE WATS THAiJ ONE OUT OF A CELLAR; AND MORE ROOMS THAN ARE GENE- RALLY SUSPECTED IN AN OLD HOUSE. To explain the cause of Peggy's fright, we must now see wliat had happened to Frank Woodbine. Not expecting his confinement in the cellar to bo of very long duration, since Nelly had promised to liberate him as soon as the coast was clear, Frank took it quietly enough at first, amusing himself by thinking how cleverly the bailiffs had been tricked ; but when a long interval of time had elapsed — and it seemed much longer to him than it really was — he began to find the detention exceedingly irksome, and made several futile attempts to force open the door. Another hour of restraint increased his impatience to such a degree, that, unable to rest inactive, he began to grope about the place in every direction to ascertain if, by possibility, any other mode of egress existed. Though he moved as carefully as he could in the dark, he managed to upset a good many bottles, and more than once came in contact with a mouldy old beer- cask ; but at length, he contrived to hit upon the entrance to the inner vaults, and passing through it, went on, with even greater caution than before ; be- coming sensible from the increased dampness of the atmosphere, and the broken condition of the floor, together with the litter scattered about, that he had got into some neglected depository of rubbish, where there might be danger of a serious fall. A second doorway ensued, and a second vault, full of rubbish like the first. Here he found a ladder lying on the ground, and placed — as he luckily discovered in time — a^.ross the mouth of a deep, circular hole : an old well it might be, to judge from the dampness of 131: THE FMTCH OP BACON: OR, the brickwork : into which lie had a narrow escape of being precipitated, headlonff. Passing by this dangerous abyss, with a shudder at the risk he had run, he entered a third vault, terminated by a short flight of stone steps, down which he descendt-*!, wondering where they would land him. When at the I'Ottom, his further progress was impeded by a door. It was locked ; but being in no mood to be stopped, and the lock chancing to be on the side next him, ho took up a brick from the loose pavement, and knocked off the rusty fastening with a blow. No further hindrance .then. A narrow passage pre- sented itself; circuitous, and gradually rising as he advanced along it. He was delighted to find the air become fresher, and the obscurity decrease with each step he took, until at last, the full light of the moon burst upon him, shining down from a grated aperture in the walls. Unluckily, the aperture was out of reach ; but even if accessible, the closeness and strength of the bars rendered escape by it wholly impracticable. Further on, a blank wall opposed him. The passage had evidently communicated with some chamber be- yond, but the doorway had been blocked up, as was shown by the comparative freshness of the brickwork. To all appearance, he had reached the end of his course. All this trouble had been taken, all this risk i*un, for nothing. But he would not go back till he had looked care- fully round. Trap-doors and secret passages he knew were to be found in many old houses. Might not similar contrivances exist hero? Thereupon, he ex- amined the walls, and sounded the brickwork; but with no satisfactory result. At last, when just giving up the search, he chanced upon a small stone let into the wall, with the figure V. carved upon it. What could it mean ? There was no corresponding mark near it that he could detect ; and yet the figure must have some si^cnificance. THE CUSTOM OF DUK^MO^. 135 He counted five yards, and they brought him exactly to the blockcd-up doorway. Returning to the starting- point, he took the like number of steps in the opposite direction, and being still within the scope of the moon's rays, clearly perceived the figure IV. cut on the wall. Four steps more brought him to III. ; three to II. ; and though the next movement almost involved him in gloom, he could trace with his finger, upon a. piece of «tone, the number I. Here he halted. The walls, on examination, proved to be of hara brickwork. The floor sounded firm beneath his tread, and returned no hollow reverberation. Looking up- wards, he coiUd just distinguish, in the partial obscu- rity, a chain dangling from the roof. The chain seemed within reach, and springing aloft, he succeeded in gi*asping it, and in maintaining his hold. But the attempt had nearly proved fatal to him His weight brought do>^Ti a heavy board to which the iron links were attached, and the edge of the wood striking him in its fall, and slightly gi'azing his temple, laid him prostrate and bleeding. A wonder he had not been killed. Senous, however, as might have been the accident, it rendered him an important service. The fall of the board had left a square opening in the roof, through which he could distinguish some portion of a chamber illumined by the moon. From the bolts and rings as well as the rusty chain attached to it, it was evident the board had been used as a trap-door. How to attain the room above was no'v the question 1 He was not long in solving it. Bethinking him of the ladder he had met with in the vaults, he resolved to fetch it The plan was no sooner conceived than exe- cuted ; and on application, the ladder being found to reach the square hole above, it was soon securely planted, and mounting the steps with eagerness, he eifected an entrance near the fireplace of a large de- ierted-looking chamber 136 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, Deserted, indeed. No human footstep, it would seem, had invaded that chamber for many and many a year. Whether it waf> equally avoided by members of the Invisible World, was not so clear. A ghostly atmosphere seemed to pervade the place. The room had once been magni- ficently decorated; but time and neglect had despoiled it of its splendour. The lofty windows were boarded up, but some of the planks having given way from the effects of weather, the moonlight streamed in through the interstices. The walls were panelled, and the wainscots had been covered with rich tapestry, but the ari-as was mildewed, stained, and rotten, as were the window-curtains, and hung down in strips and tatters. The mirrors in their richly gilt and curiously-carved frames were dull and tarnished. The moulded ceilinc o was cracked and blistered, and festooned with cobwebs. The furniture was of an antique and cumbrous form, but its gilt leather and silken coverings were sullied and moth-eaten. The portraits had nearly all perished, and the canvas on which several had been painted, had dropped from their frames. Two only, from some unaccountable reason, remained in a tolerable state of preservation. Both, of these were fiiU-length portraits, admirably painted, and almost lifelike in character and expression. One was the likeness of a man, between forty and fifty, habited in a rich court dress of George the First's time ; the other that of an exquisitely beautiful woman, some twenty years younger, and equally richly attired in robes of the same period. Yet in spite of the lady's beauty, there were traces of sadness in her looks. Her splendid garb seemed to hide an anxious heart, and the smile upon her sundered lips had a touch of melancholy in it. She was of a noble presence, stately figure, and majestic carriage, with a full person, rounded arms, and fine shoulders. Her eyes were black and large, but though their brilliancy was softened by the sadness pervading the mouth, they were full of latent fire and THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOT^. 137 spirit. The brows were dark and well defined ; the hair jetty, raised from the beautiful forehead, and crowr.ing the head as with a natural tiara. The fea- tures were classical in shape; the complexion of a rich brown. This portrait riveted Frank Woodbine's attention. He continued to gaze at it until tears rushed to his eyes, and as a relief, he turned to the other picture. To deny that the person here represented was hand- some would be impossible. Yet his good looks were almost entirely marred by a peculiar and forbidding expression. It was not easy to say in what the expres- sion consisted, or whence it arose. It might be pride, or suspicion, or excessive irritability. All these feel- ings seemed to lurk in parts of the singular physio- gnomy — singular, because there was as much good in it as evil , the former qualities being in such strength, that they might have preponderated, if allowed fair play. Irritability, scorn, and sarcasm hovered about the mouth ; but they were held in check, or corrected by highly nervous sensibility. Pride was the dominant expression of the face; and yet the haughty brow and imperious eye were tempered and restrained by a look suggestive of benevolence, and even humility. So many opposite qualities were blended and confounded together, that the face seemed a mere bundle of con- tradictions, enough to puzzle any one who made it a study. The features were sharp, well-defined, and full of intelligence. In stature, this oddly-compounded personage was rather above the ordinary standard; but he lost something of height from lameness: a defect which, instead of being concealed, was rather obtrusively displayed by the artist; probably at the suggestion of the original of the picture. Apart from this drawback, the figure was fiinely-formed, though, perhaps, too spare. The eyes looked out of the picture, steadily confronting the beholder, and seemed to follow him with their keen glances about the room. The contemplation of this picture produced no such 1 38 TnE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, eflects on Frank Woodbine as had been excited by tlie fii-st portrait. On the contrary, his aspect assumed unwonted sternness, and he frowned angrily as he met the penetrating gaze it seemed to fix upon him. This sentiment of displeasure, however, soon gave way to pity; and, as if fearing his indignation might be re- awakened, he placed himself once more under the gentler though saddening influence oi the lady's me- lancholy eyes. While thus occupied, Frank completely forgot the situation in which he was placed. Thoughts of the past — painful thoughts — swept over his mind, to the exclusion, for the moment, of all other considerations. But at length, the necessity of exertion rousing him from his sombre reverie, he went towards the windows for the purpose of ascertaining on what they opened; ever and anon looking back at the two portraits, and think- ing one of them was watching him with its keen glances. Clouded with long-accumulated dust, and further obscured by the action of the frost, the windows were so dimmed, that no view could be obtained from them, except through a broken pane ; and hence he discovered that immediately beneath him v/as a small secluded court, screened from outer observation by a thick belt of trees. This court, moreover, having been excavated to a considerable depth below the rest of the habita- tion, in all probability faced the walled-up chamber, once communicating with the passage he had recently traversed ; making it evident that every precaution had been taken to secure privacy and seclusion to thLs part of the building, when in occupation. It became evident also, on further investigation, that the apart- ments had been very suddenly as well as very carefully closed, and had continued wholly undisturbed imtil his intrusion upon them. Abandoning all idea of descent from the windows, Frank looked about for some other outlet, and was then astonished by a peculiarity in the chamber, which had hitherto escaped his notice. I THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 139 There was no door to it. Here, then, was a fresh dilemma, out of which he saw no means of extricating himself. He must go back after all, and had unwillingly come to this con- c!'jLsion, when chancing to cast a glance at the portrait, the eyes of which seemed constantly tracking him, he fancied he could read so much mockery ard malice in its looks, that he resolved not to give up his search for the secret entrance; feeling convinced, from the pecu- liar arrangements of the room, that such an entrance must exist. While shaking the panels, and pressing againsb them to see if one would slide back, he came upon a table on which an escritoire was placed, with writing materials near it; affording ample evidence of the suddenness with which the chamber had been forsaken and shut up. Nothing had been removed from the room ; and probably no one had been allowed to enter it after its abandonment. The escritoire was open, and an un- finished letter was lying near it — the paper discoloured by time, and the ink faded. Incited by curiosity, Frank took it to the window to read it. . Its perusal roused new emotions, and of a wholly different cha- racter, in his breast. He again glanced at the portrait, and fancy now changed the look he encountered to one of sadness and sympathy. Carefully folding the letter, he placed it within his bresist. Within the escritoire were several documents and pavers, Avith none of which Frank thought it right to meddle, until he came to a packet sealed with, black wax, and inscribed — " For Lady Fitzwalter. To be DELIVERED AFTEB MY DEATH. W. FW." With trembling hand.^, Frank took up tlds packet; liis first thought being to secure it. But the portrait seemed to admonish him to desist, and he laid it down again, though not without reluctance. He had scarcely done so, when he was greatly startled by an occurrence which, for the moment, seemed to partake of the supernatural ; though it was 140 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OK, presently explained. Appearing to detacli itself from its frame, the portrait advanced towards him. He hastily retreated ; and it was well he did so, for he was scarcely out of reach when the picture fell to the ground with a tremendous clatter tliat shook the whole room, and filled it with \i cloud of dust. The explana- tion of the occurrence was obvious. His own hasty movements had no doubt shaken the picture, and dislodged it from its supports, which it appeared, on examination, were rusty and decayed. With some difficulty he managed to rear it up again, though not to its former position, and in doing so, he perceived what he had been searching for so anxiously — a sliding panel. On the fall of the picture, the panel had flown open ; the spring being in some way connected with the frame, which had moved upon hinges like a door. His course was now uninterrupted. The passage into which the sliding panel admitted him, was very narrow and intricate, and its close mouldy smell showed how long it had been disused. After traversing it for some time, and speculating where and when it would terminate, for it evidently led to the other end of the building, he mounted a short flight of wooden steps, and came to a small closet. It was now quite clear that he had gained the ha- bitable part of the house. He could not only see a light through the chinks in the oak boards forming the front of the closet, but could hear voices, some of which he recognised. Jonas Nettlebed and his wile were making merry, it appeared, with company in the hali Delow. Frank now knew where he was. The little closet was partitioned from the gallery, near the head of the staircase, and was no doubt quite unknown to the present inmates of the house. Nor did he desire they should be made acquainted with its existence, or with tliat of the chamber he had discovered. So he THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 141 hesitated to go forth, though he easily detected a secret door amid the boards, and had only to press a knob of iron to become free. He was compelled to act thus cautiously from hearing a whispering sound in the gal- lery, as if two persons were standing there, engaged in muttered discourse. These pereons he found were Carroty Dick and Pegg}% and it was the light of the candle held by the pretty chambermaid that reached him through the cracks in the boards. While thus detained, Frank examined the place into which he had got. It was little more than a large cupboard, and constituted a receptacle for strange lumber. Amongst other things, he found a suit of old armour })laced upon a stand. Most likely it had been put there out of the way, and forgotten. This knightly equipment, which might have belonged to the first Fitzwalter, as it had some of the peculiarities of the mailed statue on the tomb in the old Priory Church, was complete from top to toe — plate armour with a chain shirt beneath it. If the panoply could stalk forth, how it would terrify the loiterers in the gallery, and rout all the laughing company below. What so easy as to carry this notion into effect] Thinking so, Frank instantly set to work, and arrayed himself in the old warrior's harness, putting on the chain shirt, the breastplate and greaves, the vantbi-aces and gaunt- lets; and binding liis handkercliief round his head, finally clapped on the casque. The armour fitted as if fashioned for him. When fully equipped, he moved towards the secret door, slowly and with difficulty, for the weight of iron considerably impeded his movements. Having reached the point of exit, he listened for a moment. All seemed qniet in the galleiy, and the light was gone, but loud laughter and revelry continued to resounp from below. He then drew down the vizor, and touched the spring of the secret door. It flew open, and he stalked forth into the gallery. It was at this moment, as already related, that £42 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, Peggy issued from the dark corridor, followed by Car- roty Dick. Her shrieks, as we have said, on beholding the mail-clad apparition, were loud enough to rouse the whole house, and dropping her candle, she fell back into the arms of the almost equally-terrified ostler. Meanwhile, the spectre slowly advanced towards the great oak staircase. Clank! clank! clank I The boards ci^eakcd aw- fully. YIL TEE BEGISIER OF THE COUET BAHON OF LirfXK DUNMOW. The last bowl of punch ordered by the Sqaire was capital, and highly approved by the company. By all, at least, except Sir Gilbert de Montficliet, who, ever since the departure of Dr. Plot, appeared pre-occupied. Taking no part in the conversation, he at last rose, and walked moodily towards the fireplace, where he sat down by himself. The Squire looked after him, and shook his head ; but Captain Juddock said there was nothing to be uneasy about ; Sir G. was often down in the mouth, but soon came round, if left alone ; truth being, he was desperately in love. Nelly, still standing behind the Squire's chair, could not help inquiring, with whom 1 And when informed by the giant, who saw no reason for concealment, that it was with Rose W oodbine, she lifted up her hands in wonderment, exclaiming, " Dear 1 dear ! only to think of it 1 And she a married woman !" " Hose cannot help Sir Gilbert's being in love with her," remarked Mr. Roper, drily, " any more than you, Mrs. Nettlebed, can prevent Captain Juddock, or Cap- tain Anybody-elee, from admiring you. However, I myself can bear witness that his attentions are ex- tremely disagreeable to her, and I sincerely trust tliey will cease. Indeed, after the scene that occurred this THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. U3 evening at the cottage — and the lesson the young baronet received from Dr. Plot — I do not think them likely to be repeated.** " Ah ! what is it you allude to, Roper ?" the Squire aakcd. " Excuse my entering into particulars just now, sir,** the steward replied. " It may be sufficient to state, that Dr. Plot interfered to protect Rose from annoy- ance, and I cannot but think that Sir Gilbert's present abstmction is attributiible to some other circumstances connected with this mysterious gentleman, with which he has been — or supposes himself — mixed up, rather than to the disappointment occasioned by the unsuc- cessful issue of his frolic.*' " Very likely," the Squire rejoined, with a significant look at Roper. " Fire and fury !" Juddock roared ; " I can't pretend to say what may be Sir G.'s intentions in respect to this Dr. Plot, or Dr. Johnson, or whatever the felloAv's vulgar name may be ; but if my honourable friend does not call him to account for his impertinence, I will. That's flat." " I advise you not to meddlo -with him, captain," the Squire observed. " He may be dangerous.*' " Dangerous ! why so am I, sir, — the more danger- ous of the two, I rather opine. Dangerous — ha !' And Juddock swallowed a glass of punch to allay his indignation. The Squire laughed ; the Yicar chuckled ; indeed, everybody was amused, and no one more so than Jonas. The giant swore several tremendous oaths, but finding they only served to increase the general merriment he held out his glass to be replenished, and grew talmer. " I believe, Mr. Roper, you are steward of the manor of Little Dunmow?" he said. " May I inquire, as mat- ter of curiosity, how many successful applications have been made for the Flitch, in your time 1" " Not one, Pm sorry to say, captain," the steward re- 144 TITE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, plied, witli a smile. " But our conditions are so hard, that few can subscribe to them. Besides, the witnesses are very strictly examined." "Udsbores! witnesses are necessary — are they?" Juddock ejaculated. " Cei-tainly. Corroborative testimony is required by the Court Baron in support of the application ; and witnesses are heard, per contra; both sides being cross- examined. Then the verdict of the Jury of Bachelorr and Maidens must be unanimous. One dissentieni voice would be fatal to the demandants. A severe ordeal, I assure you, captain, for married folk. Few are able to brook it." " You hear all this, landlord ?" Juddock remarked " Oddsfish ! man ; have you no misgivings ?" " None whatever, captain," Jonas replied. " Have we, ducky]' " Oh ! none at all !" Nelly said, quite confidently. " Numerous demands have been made," the steward pursued ; " but they have all been rejected on some plea or other. I happen to have the Kegister of the Court Baron in my pocket, containing a list of the claimants, and the objections made to them, and with the Squire's consent, I can read you a few extracts from it." " You will oblige me eternally, sir, by doing so," Juddock rejoined. " I shall be glad of any informa- tion I can obtain on the subject." " What makes him so curious, I wonder T Jonas muttered. " The rascal must have some dark design against me." " I'm sure his honour wont refuse us !" Nelly cried, looking entreatingly at the Squire. "It will be so entertaining to hear how many deluded creatures there are—fancying themselves happy and devoted to each other — wont it, Jonas 1" "Very entertaining, indeed — very!" he replied, trying to force a laugh, but with indifferent success " That wont be our case — oh ! no." THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 145 " Read what you please from the Register, Roper," the Squire said. "All claims being publicly made, there can be no reason for secrecy." Permission being thus accorded, the steward took from his pocket a clasped volume, bound in white calf- skin, and, opening it, observed — " The Register of the Court Baron commences with the year 1702, in the same month, and pretty nearly on the same day that Queen Anne ascended the throne. The fii-st entry is as follows : — ' Roger Appleton, of South Bemfleet, in this county. Tailor, and Tabitha, his wife. — Not allowed, because it was proved by a credible witness that the said Tabitha, on one occasion, had styled her husband * the ninth part of a man.' " " Served Snip right," Juddock cried, laughing. " Udsbores ! if Dame Tabitha had had nine tailors for husbands, she would only have been as well off as any ordinary married woman j eh, Mrs. N. 1" Mr. Roper read on. " John Trott, of Thaxted, Baker, and Prudence, hia wife. Approved : recited the oath ; and received the Flitch ; but words ensuing between them as they got into the chair, the prize was held to be forfeited, and they were deprived of it accordingly !" " How very foolish !" Nelly exclaimed. " Why foolish?" Juddock asked. " To quarrel at all, to be sure," Nelly quickly re- joined. " No more demands were made in this year," Mr. Roper continued, turning over a leaf, — "but in the next there were several, amongst which was one on the pai-t of Sir Conyers de Gaunt, t)f Waltham, and Dame Arabella, his spouse : and owing to the import- ance of the parties, and the peculiarity of the circum- stances, this application excited much attention. Con- siderable disparity it appears existed between the pair in point of age — Sir Conyers being nigh seventy, and described as a battered old beau, while Lady de Gaimt Wfts a very beautiful younsj woman of three-and- 14 C TlIK FLITCH OF BACON I OR, twenty, who had been an actress, and was well known by her maiden name of Bell Fairbank, but not a whis- per had been breathed against her fair fame. Twenty witnesses examined. All proved the entire happinean of the parties ; and some declared they had never seeu such a couple before. This phrase, appearing ambi- guous, was explained by the witnesses to mean, that they had never known two wedded pei-sons so much attached to each other. Twenty-first witness (a female) declared she had once heard her ladyship say, ' Better be an old man's darling, than a young man's warling.' Held an objection ; but might be overruled, if nothing stronger appeared. Next witness (a discharged house- maid) swore she had given her ladyship a note, which had been hastily concealed as Sir Conyers was heard approaching. Mr. Humdrum, the head valet-de-cham- bre, had given witness the letter. Mr. Humdi'um re- called, reluctantly admitted the truth of the statement, and being further interrogated, confessed that the note was from Charles Clipsby, her ladyship's cousin, who had been forbidden the house by Sir Conyers. Why was Charles Clipsby forbidden the house ? To this de- mand from the Court, Mr. Humdrum professed utter inability to reply. The next and last witness, Juliana Clipsby, wife of the before-mentioned Charles, declared that her husband was neither cousin, nor relation in any degree to Lady de Gaunt, but had been passed off as such as a blind, for purposes which would be appa- rent to the Court when she read a letter from her lady- ship, wliich she had taken from her husband's pockets, wherein Sir Conyers was described as an old dupe and dotard, with sundry other epithets by no means com- {.limentary to him, or expressive of affection on the part of his lady. The Court declined to hear the letter read in full, arA at once rejected the application. Me- morandum to this case. Sir Conyers not only lost the Flitch, but his wife into the bargain ; for separating from her in cor*sequence of the disclosures made in the eourse of the investigation, he subsequently obtained a divorce." THE CUSTOM OF DUXMOV.'. 147 * Bt'.t he got another wife, for he married ilrs. Uiipsby, who was likewise divorced from her husband, as I perfectly recollect," said the Squire. "Proceed, Roper." " The next demandants are Nehemiah Wagstaff and Margery his wife, of Chipping Ongar," the steward said, " and in this case iiie lady was thirty years older than her husband ; a fine strapping young fellow, six ♦eet four in height, and two and a half broad from shoulder to shoulder." " 'Slife ! a projMjr young fellow — eh, Mrs. N. 1" Juddock cried, slapping his leviathan thigh. " In addition to this, Mrs. Wagstaff had only one eye," pursued the .steward. " Then Wag got on her blind side, it is to be pre- sumed," the giant remarked, with a loud roar. "But she was very well off," Roper continued — " very well off, indeed. And so folks generally sup- posed Nehemiah had married Margery Gimcrack for her money j but to all appearances, no couple could be happier than they were. Mi-s. Wagstaff doted on her spouse, and her spouse seemed to requite her affection. When the Oath was recited, Wagstaff was observed to hesitate a little at the second line, where the jurants declare that * They ne'er made nuptial irausgression,* while his wife fixed her single eye rather sharply upon nim. Being required to repeat the line, he hurried quickly over it, upon which Mrs. Wagstaff insisted on its being pronounced for the third time, and more deliberately ; adding loud enough to be heard by the Jury, that she began to think her suspicions in regard to her housemaid, Susan, must be correct. Claim hereupon refused." "That oath has proved a sad stumbling-block, it must be owned," the Vicar observed, " but I hope the guilt of false-swearing has nob been incurred by any of the parties." 148 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, '• Your reverence cannot bo too impressive uii tliat point," Juddock said, glancing at Jonas. " Peter Proby and his wife, of Coggeshall, who stand next on the list," the steward pursued, "shared the fate of the Wagstafis, for they could not affii'm they had never offended each other — * Since they were married man and wife By houseliola brawls or contentious strife.* But Humphrey Chick weed of Romford, brewer, and Lettice, did veiy well till they came to the couplet — * Or since the parish clerk said Amen Wished yourselves unmarried again/ Hereupon Lettice remarked that people could not help their thoughts. Being questioned as to the meaning of the expression, she replied that she might sometimes have thought she had better have remained single ; but she had never given utterance to the wish. Bejected. Mrs. Trinket of Billericay said she could not positively swear that she loved her husband Timothy as fervently as she did on the day of her marriage, and therefore desired to omit the lines — ' Bui continued true and in desire As when they joined hands in holy quire.* Claim disallowed. But the hardest case of all appears to be that of Dick Honeymoon of Braintree, ana Theriaca his -wife, who lived in perfect love and amity for a whole twelvemonth, and then, as appeared on inquiry, had words on the day over." " Mind that, landlord," Juddock remarked. " Mind that !" " In short," the steward said, closing the Register, and putting it into his pocket, " insuperable objections have been raised to every demand. Unless the appli- cants can take the required Oath fully and unreser* vedly; unless their own declaration can be supported by unquestionable evidence ; they are certain of refusal. Ours being a time-honoured custom, we ai e determined THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 140 to maintain it in its integrity, and to cany it out in the spirit in which it was ordained. And as the reward we give is intended as a testimonial of the highest domestic merit, so nothing but decisive proofs of the existence of such merit will satisfy us. Accordingly, we are obliged to adopt unusual means of arriving at the truth. Every circumstance connected with the parties is inquired into, and we pierce, somewhat inquisitorially it may be, into private affairs. But this is unavoidable. Every thought, word, and deed, must be laid open to us. A cross look would be suQi- cient to nullify a claim." " And all this gives you no uneasiness, landlord V* Juddock inquired. "You are prepared for these searching inquiries — eh ?" " Fully prepared, captain," Jonas answered, with sometliing of a quaver in his tones. " Well, you're a bold man, that's all I can say," the giant rejoined. " Sir, I have good reason to be bold," Jonas returned, plucking up his courage as he took his wife's hand, and looked tenderly into her faca *•' And so would you be if you were in my shoes." " I wouldn't stand in your shoes for a trifle," mut- tered Juddock ; adding aloud, " Well, Mr. Roper, I thank my stars I'm not married, and am not therefore likely to trouble you with any application on behalf ot self and spouse; but I must say your conditions are too hard. 'Sblood ! sir, they act as a prohibition." '* Tlie greater the difficulty the gi-eater the honour," the steward replied. " Our ordeal is s^^^rict, and very properly so, since we do not profess to reward common cases of domestic happiness, but such as are exceptional, and worthy of honour. Without referring to the loving couple here, who 1 trust are in a fair way of success, I may express my belief that Fi-ank Woodbine and his wife will have no difficulty in substantiating their claim. I am quite aware that Jonas is of a different opinion, and means to produce evidence reflecting upon 150 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR. Fi-ank's perfect fidelity to his wife; but I anu. i>rcttv sure it will be explained away." " I am glad to hear you say so, Roper," the Squire observed. " Here, Paul," he added, to the old huntsman, "take another glass of punch, man. I'm not angry with you now. My curiosity is quite stimulated about this Hose Woodbine and her perfections. Where can she have hidden herself that I have never caught a glimpse of her 1 I thought I knew every pretty girl in the neighbourhood, but, by all accounts, I have missed the prettiest." " Just as well for Frank yoiir honour has missed seeing her, in my opinion," Nelly said roguishly in his ear. The Squire laughed, and remarked, " She was Mi*s. Leslie's niece, I believe, Roper ?" " It is so given out, sir. But I rather think she is her grand-daughter." " Her grand-daughter i" the Squire exclaimed, start- ing, and looking hard at Roper. " Some other time I will explain myself," the steward said ; " but I always thought it strange your honour never chanced to behold her." "Why, it is strange — exceedingly strange !" the Squire cried, after a moment's reflection. " Often as I have been at Mrs. Leslie's during the good old curate's life- time, and since, I never once came across the grand- daughter. It would almost seem as if she had been kept out of the way purposely." " It looks very like it, indeed," Nelly remarked, ii an under tone. " What was Rose's maiden name ?" the Squire asked "Mildmay," the steward answerecL " She came from Cumberland." " From what part of the countj'' 1" the Squire said. " From Penrith, J have heard," was Mr. Roper's reply. *' Penrith !" the S^^uire exclaimed, in surprise. "Why, fiiy niece comes from Penrith." '* Yes, sir — 1 know it," the steward answered eva- •niE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. IjI f»ively. " Mrs. Leslie, if you remember, had a daughter who died in that part of England." " Oh ! yes, I recollect," the Squire interrupted som©- whrt hjistily; "but Grace Leslie died unmarried. Roper." ''Then, of course, she can't be Rose WoodbineV mother," Nelly observed. The little hussy had been listening attentively to what was said. " I can't pretend to say whether Gmce Leslie was mar- ried or not," the steward rejoined — " but I believe Rose to be her daughter." " You do !" the Squire exclaimed. " Zounds ! we must talk this over to-morrow. Why was the circum- stance never mentioned to me before ? You neglected your duty in not acquainting me with it." " I hope not, sii*," the steward rejoined, in an apo- logetic tone. " At all events I acted for the best." Squire Monkbury got very red in the face, and seemed to have some difficulty in controlling his pas- sion. Mr. Roper, too, looked uneasy, and fidgeted in hia chair. " I wonder what all this means," Nelly mutterecL " It quite passes my comprehension. But I'll try and find it out." There was a brief silence, wliich was broken at length by the Squire. " Well, I must see her, and without delay," he said " It's too late to go to the cottage to-night." " Mercy on us ! I should think so," Nelly exclaimed ; *why it's getting on for midnight. Rose has been ci-bed, and fast asleep these two hours, I'll be bound. That is, if nothing has happened to Prank," she added to herself. "Well, well — then it must be to-morrow," the Squire said, once more lapsing into deep thought. "Yes, to-morrow," the steward rejoined. "Sleep upon it, sir." " T^andlord," quoth Juddock, finding it rather dull, since no one seemed inclined to talk tc him, " T under 7. 152 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, stand your house is haunted. It looks like a receptacle for ghosts. There must be some marvellous story con- nected with it. Let us have it, I pray of you ?" "I can sing you a ballad about a ghost, captain," Jonas replied, " but it does not relate to this house." " No matter for that — so the stave be good. Enliven us with it. Attention, gentlemen." And Jonas sang as follows : ©ItJ (Srinturotji's C5f)02t, A BALLAD.* Old Grindrod was hanged on a gibbet high, Oil the spot where the deed was done; *Twas a desolate place, on the edge of a moor,— A place for the timid to shun. II. Chains round Lis middle, and chains round his neck. And chains round his ankles were hung : | And there in all weathers, in sunshine and rain, i Old Grindrod, the murderer, swung. III. Old Grindrod had long been the banquet of crows, "Who flocked on his carcase to batten ; And the unctuous morsels that fell from then: feast Seived the rank weeds beneath him to fatten ! IV. All that's now left of him is a skeleton grim. The stoutest to strike with dismay ; So ghastly the sight, that no urchin, at night. Who can help it, will pass by that way. * Founded on an incident, related to me, with admirabw humour, by my old and much-valued friend, Gilbert Winteu, Esq., late of Stocks, near Manchester. THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 153 V. All such as had dared, had sadly been scared, And soon 'twas the general talk. That the wretch in his chains, each night took the paina, To come down from the gibbet — ajid walk! yi. The story was told to a Traveller bold, A-t an inn, near the moor, by the Host ; He appeals to each guest, and its truth they attest. But the Traveller laughs at the Ghost. vn. "Now, to show you," qiioth he, "how afraid I mu«t be, A rump and a dozen I'll lay ; Tliat before it strikes One, I will go forth alone. Old Grindrod a visit to pay. VIII. ** To the gibbet I'll go, and this I will do. As sure as I stand in my shoes ; Some address I'll devise, and if Grinny replies, ^ly wager, of course, I shall lose." n. "Accepted the bet ; but the night it is wet," Quoth the Host. "Never mind!" says the Guest , " From darkness and rain, the adventure'wiU gain, To my mind, an additional zest." Ifow midnight had toll'd, and the Traveller bold Set out from the inn, all alone ; *Twas a night black as ink, and our friend 'gan to think. That uncommonly cold it had gro\vn. But of nothing afraid, and by nothing delayed ; Plunging onward through bog and through wood ; Wind and rain in his face, he ne'er slackened his pace, Till under the gibbet he stood. 154 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OB, XII. Though dark as conld be, yet he thought he could see The skeleton hanging on high ; The gibbet it creaked : and the rusty chains squeaked ; And a screech-owl flew solemnly by, xni. Tlie heavy rain pattered, the hollow bones clattered. The Traveller's teeth chattered — ^with cold — not with fnghk The wind it blew lustily, piercingly, gustily;-— Certainly not an agreeable niglit ! XIV. " Ho ! Grindrod, old fellow !" thus loudly did bellow. The Traveller mellow, — " How are ye, my blade?"— ^I'm cold and I'm dreary ; I'm wet and I'm weary; But soon I'll be near ye !" the Skeleton said. XV. The grisly bones rattled, and with the chains battled. The gibbet appallingly shook ; On the ground something stirr'd, but no more the man heard,— To his heels, on the instant, he took. XVI. Ovcv injorland he dashed, and through quagmire he plashed ; His pace never daring to slack ; Till the hostel he nearei for greatly he feared Old (yfindrod would leap on his back. XVII. His wager he lost, ana a trifle it cost ; But that which annoyed him the most. Was to find out too late, that certain as tat«, The Landlord had acted the Ghost. Juddock laughed Tery heartily at the landlord's ditty, as indeed did the rest of the company, including the Squire, who was roused by it from his reverie, and at its conclusion proceeded to replenish the glasses. THE CLSTOM OF DUNMOW. 155 •* I suspect, Mr. Jonas, you yourself are the cunning landlord who enacted old Grinny's ghost," the giant observed, after taking off his punch. " No— no, captain, I've as much courage as any man of my inches," Jonas responded, drawing himself up ; ''but I'm not quite equal to that. Howsomdever, you're not so far out. The landlord in question was a relative of mine, and kept an inn on Pendleton Moor, near Manchester, close to which old Grindrod was haDged in chains. I had the tale from the landlord's own lips — so I know it to be true. But talking of ghosts— our lady in white is sometimes veiy trouble- some. I wish your reverence," he added to the Yicar, " would lay her in tiie Red Sea." " Spirits, I fear, are not as easily exorcised as they used to be in Popish times, landlord," Dr. Sidebottom replied, "when the priests compelled them to depart according to the forms prescribed by Saint Gregory and Saint Anthony, as mentioned in the life of the latter by Saint Athanasius. One adjuration, I remember, runs in this way, and I will pronounce it, that we may see whether it will prove eflBcacious." And extending his pipe like a wand, he pronounced these words in a solemn, emphatic voice : ^Adjuro te, Spectrum horrihUe! per Jvdicem vivorum et inortuorum, per Factorem niundi, qui habet potestatein mittere te in Gehennd, vt ah hoc domo festinus discedas. Avdi Spectnim ! et time, et victum et prostraium recede in SinU AraMcoT " That sounds very dreadfiJ," Jonas exclaimed, in a quaking voice; "the exorcism quite makes one's flesh creep. Lady Juga I hope will hear it, and rest quiet in fiiture." " Can anybody give us another ghost-story T the Squire asked. " You look as if you had one ready, captain." " Egad, Squire, I can sing you a ballad which may match the landlord's, if that will serve your tumT " Nothing better. — Let us have it, by all means." And wetting his whistle, according to custom, Jud- 156 THE FLIICH OP BACON: OR, dock commenced the following legendarj^ strains, which he sang right merrily. dTlje Barljer of l^ipon antj tjc ©fjostlg Basin: A TALE or THE CHARNEL HOUSE. I. Since Ghost-Stories you want, tliere is one 1. can teU Of a wondsrful thing that Bat Pigeon befel : A Barber, at Ripon, in Yorkshire was he, And as keen in nis craft as his best blade could be. Now Bat had a fancy, — a strange one, you'll own, — Instead of a brass bowl to have one of bone : To the Charnel-house 'neath the old Minster he'd been. And there, 'mongst the relics, a treasure had seen. III. 'Mid the pile of dry bones that encumber'd the ground. One pumpkin-like skull with a mazard he found ; If home that enormous old sconce he coidd take, THiat a capital basin for shaving 'twould make ! IV. Well! he got it, at last, from the Sexton, his friend. Little dreaming how queerly the business would end: Next, he saw'd off the cranium close to the eyes; And behold then! a basin capacious in size. V. As the big bowl is balanced 'tmxt finger and thumb. Bat's customers all with amazement are dumb; At the strange yellow object they blink and they stare, But what it can be not a soul is aware ! VI. Bat Pigeon, as usual, to rest went that night: But he soon started up in a terrible fright : Lo ! giving the curtains and bedclothes a pull, A Ghost be beheld — wanting half of its skull! i I THE CUSTOM OP DUXMOW. 157 vll. * Unmaunerly barber !" the Spectre exclaimed; " To desecrate bonehouses art not ashamed ? Thy crown into shivers, base varlet, I'll crack. Unless, on the instant, my own I get back !'* vm. *' There it lies on the table 1" Bat quakingly said , ** Sure a skull cannot matter when once one is deaj.'*— " Such a skull as tliine may not, thou addlepate fooi ! But a shayer of clo^vns for a Knight is no rule !" With this, the wroth Spectre its brainpan clapp'd on. And holding it fast, in a twinkling was gone ; But ere through the keyhole the Phantom could rush. Bat perceived it had taken the soap and the brusli. When the Sexton next mom went the Charnel-house round. The great Yellow Skull* in its old place he found : And twixt its lank jaws, while they grinningly ope. As in mockery stuck, are the Brush and the Soap ! Again the laughter and plaudits were loud and long. Again the glasses were replenished. " Well, it's easy to make a jest of supernatural ap- pearances when we're all comfortably seated round a table, well provided with appliances for good cheer, as we are now," the Squii-e remarked ; " but, let me tell you, it's very different when you're alone in a large, dark, solitary room ; reported to be haunted. I don't think it any reproach to my manhood to confess that I have felt uneasy under such circumstances." " I guess what your honour alludes to," Nelly ob- served, " You refer to the night you once passed here, when you occupied the Haunted Chamber. You may remember I tried to dissuade you from using it, but * This ghostly relic may still be seen in the curious Chamel house of Kipon Minster. And the legend connected with it is devoutly beUeved by the Sexton, its narrator. 153 THE FLITCH OF BACON: oi», you laughed at me, and told mc you weren't afraid oi ghosts or hobgoblins. Doctor Plot sleeps in the room to-night, and he said much the same thing to me. We shall hear whether he changes his note to-morrow." " I hope he will be spared the sight I beheld — ov fancied I beheld," the Squire rejoined, with a slight shudder. " Adzooks ! what was it you did see, Squire ?" Jud- dock asked. " On my soul, I don't like to talk of it, captain.** " Ah ! gentlemen, this is a very mysterious house, and strange things have hai)pened in it," quoth Jonas, shaking his head ; " and no wonder some of the old family can't rest in their graves. Lady Juga is not the only one that walks." "Why, who else does, in the name of wonder, Jonas T ISTelly cried. " I never saw any other spirit." " But I have," her husband replied, shaking his head solemnly. " I once beheld a dreadful apparition ; in the likeness of a man with a great, gaping wound in his breast, and his shirt all dabbled over with blood. The ghost came out of a closet in the Haunted Room." Nelly uttered a faint scream. *' Whose ghost could it be, Jonas ?" Roper inquired. " His father's, sir," the landlord replied, in a low, mysterious tone, pointing over his shoulder to Sir Gil- bei-t, who was still seated by the fire. "The late baronet, who was killed in a duel, as you know, by Sir Walter Fitzwalter. I'm quite sure it was he." " This is strange, indeed, landlord,*' the Squire ob- served. " Yery strange !" Iloper cried. " Still stranger you never mentiane/l it to me before,** Nei.y ci'ied, rather piqued. " I didn't like to alarm you, ducky," Jonas rejoined. ** A proof of my great consideration for your feelings. " By all accounts the house seems to swarm with spectres," Juddock exclaimed. " I hope my room is free from them." TUE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 159 ** Can't answer for it," Jonas replied. " Spirits have a gi^eat deal of malice, and play strange tricks — especially she-spirits." At this moment, a singular noise at tho Iiead of the staircase attracted general attention. VIII. THE M.IIL-CLAD APPARITION. All eyes were turned in the direction of the sound, and to the astonishment and horror ot the beholders, they saw a Uill, mail-clad, apparition issue from the sliding panel. The visor of the helmet was raised, disclosing a pale, blood-stained couatenance. Nelly screamed, and fell into the arms of her husband, who had enough to do to sustain her, being tembly frightened himselC The rest of the company stared aghast There could be no illusion in this case. The spectre was palpable enough to sight and hearing too. Its heavy tread sounded on the boards of the gallery, like blows from a paviour's rammer. Meanwhile, Peggy and Dick having come forth from the corridor, the screams of the pretty chambermaid were added to those of her mistress. Utterly disre- garding them, and heedless of the fright it occasioned to the party below, the spectre began to descend the great oak staircase. Slowly ! step after step. Clank ! clank ! clank ! Thump ! thump ! thump ! Somo centuries had elapsed since those knightly ti*appings had been worn. Some centuries had elapsed since such a figure^hatl stalked down these stairs. The ghost came on, but no one appeared inclined to address it. No one stirred from his place. Nelly alone spoke. She had now left off screaming, finding it of no use, and whispered to her husband — •* Look, Jonas, look 1 It's one of the old Fitzwalters. 160 THE FLITCH OF BaCON : OR, Don t you recollect his picture painted on one of the panels in the Haunted Chamber ?'* " Yes, I recollect it," Jonas rejoined, his teeth chat- tering with fright, and his limbs trembling ; " but the ghost's very like Frank Woodbine." " Why, so it is, I declare," Nelly said;, recovering her courage a little. Still the spectre continued to thump the stairs in i** slow descent. Clank ! clank ! clank ! Suddenly, Sir Gilbert de Montfichet starting to his feet, drew his sword, and hastened to confront the ap- parition. The encounter took place at the foot of the staircase. Nothing daunted, the ghost, with its gaunt- leted hand, snatched the sword, pointed at its breast, from the young baronet s grasp, and shivered it in twain upon the floor. It then took Sir Gilbert by the shoulder, and thrust him forcibly backwards several paces. Ex- clamations of surprise were uttered by all the spec- tators, and Jonas would have taken to his heels if he had not been withheld by his wife, who began to have some glimmering of the truth. But as it had now become quite evident to all, that the supposed ghost, which had occasioned them so much terror, was a creature of flesh and blood like them- selves, there was no limit to their expressions of indig- nation at the unjustifiable trick played upon them. Jonas declared he had seen through it at once, and had only waited to ascertain how far it would be carried before he resented it. Great oaths were discharged by Juddock, like shells from a monster mortar; and even the Squire swore lustily. But the first to aid Sir Gil bort^ — perhaps because he chanced to be nearest him — was old Paul Flitwick. " Tak that, warmint," the ancient huntsman cried, ai Gaing a blow at the ghost's head with the butt-end of his heavy hunting-whip. " Tak that.'* Well was it for Frank that a stout casque protected him; or his tale had thefore the mirror, tiring her jetty hair; her stately figure and marble neck ravishing him with admira- tion. A picture of beauty never to be efiaced from his memory. But it was maddening now. Why, he asked in despair, could not ihe pa«t be recalled — or for ever cancelled 1 Why o.ald not men live t'heir THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 169 lives over again, to repair the wrongs they had done, and regain lost happiness 1 Pressing his hands before his eyes he tried to shut out the beautiful, but agonising vision. Not being presented to the visual ray, but to the mind, it could not be excluded. Staggering towards a chair, he sank upon it : a prey to intolerable anguisli. Avenging furies beset him, and lashed him \vith whips of steel. His groans and fi^antic ejaculations might have awakened pity even in those who had suffered &om his severity and injustice. He could not rest. He strode about the room. He even thought of quitting the house; denouncing himself as a madman for having come within it at alL But where was he to go? He must endure the torture. Perhaps it would subside. Little hope of it He walked to the fire. Ay, there he stood where he had stood years ago. 0, how unlike his former self! how different in feeling. Then he had some youth left — and at least, had hope. Now, he was an old, broken man; crushed by the weight of despair; self-Avidowed ; self-exiled; a stranger to his kinsmen. No fond accents had ever termed aim — ** Father." The latter wi-ong, at least, cou^r) je repaiied. Pride might oppose the step as humiliating. Go to. It must be taken. Abase thyself to t}\e dust, proud man. Expiate, so far as thou canst, ^J** wrongs thou hast committed. Bow the stiff neck, ^w* x bend the stubborn knee. Make ample reparation ^ and then have done with a world, that has long since done with thee. Arriving at this determination, he grew somewhat more composed, but his trouble was awakened anew, by the discovery of the handkerchief, which he had not as yet remarked. Picking it up, he started as if a serpent had stung him. He knew whose it was, and in whose blood it was imbrued. He recognised his own cypher worked in the comer — by herf 170 THE FLITCH OP BACON I OR, Another vision arose — very different from the first, and far more terrible. Grey dawn, with scarce light enough to see an object distinctly, revealed two men in a secluded spot, with «words crossed in conflict. Their seconds stood by, \nxiously watching each pass they made, and glad trhen a thrust was successfully parried. A slight wound might, they hoped, end the fight. Such was not the intention of one of the combatants, a stern man, the peculiarity of whose posture showed him to be lame, and who breathed nothing but vengeance. Suddenly he made a feint, his adversary replied, laid himself open, and the vengeful sword passed through his breast to the hilt. The blade was drawn forth, and he fell. He essayed to speak, but could not — and fixed an im- ploring and forgiving look upon his slayer. The other was unmoved. Regarding his expiring foe with a look of gratified vengeance, he calmly wiped his dripping sword. Then tearing a leaf from his tablets, he traced a few lines upon it with a pencil, and folding the missive in the bloodstained handkerchief, bade his friend deliver it to his wife. While this took place, the wounded man died; and the others quitted the field. He who was charged with the ruthless commis- sion, hastened to obey it. Who talks of Retribution? Can Retribution be made for a deed like this? Yet men acquit him. Faugh! how foul blood smells! Throw away that handkerchief. What more? Another letter and a phial. Are these, too, evidences of his guilt ? The phial has held laudanum. She died by such a draught. Can this have contained the poison ? The letter ! It is ad- dressed to himself — by Jier ! The seal is unbrokea He tears it open. After reading a few lines, his brain reels ; his eyes swim ; the paper drops from his hand His first emotion, on recovering, was one of regi-et to find himself yet living; but he checked the thought ^ it rose, murmuring, " No, I must not die jet My I THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 171 task IS not ended. I have much to do before I quit this Vale of Tears." He then trimmed the light, and summoning all his fortitude, resumed the perusal of the* letter. Thea«j were the words that had shaken him : " Farewell ! for ever, Sir Walter ! This is my last leave-taking. Trouble yourself no more about me. When these lines meet your gaze I shall be past all earthly consideration. I have drained the fatal phial, and already feel its numbing influence. Insupportable grief has driven me to the desperate step, but an All Wise Power, knowing the extent of my sorrows, and my utter inability to bear them, will I trust pardon me. I have prayed fervently for your forgiveness, and my o^vn, May those prayers be heard at the throne of Infinite Mercy ! In this my latest hour, I utter no reproaches against you ; and I take the whole guilt of the i-ash act I have committed in thus rushing, un- summoned, to Eternity, upon my own head. Nor, iu asserting with my latest breath my entire freedom from criminality, such as you have imputed to me, do I design to reproach you. But it is needful you should know the truth, and not continue to labour under a delusion, which if not dispelled, may work mischi.^f to our child, as it has brought misery and destruction on me. As I hope for pity hereafter, I have been a true wife to you. Sir Walter — in thought and deed." While reading this, he could not repress a groan. "Nay more, I have loved you with unwavering affection, even when unjustly doubted, and harshly ireated. From such error as miijht bring dishonour upon your name — nay, from the slightest shade of it, my conscience is free ; but I must own to lesser faults, which, I cannot now, on the brink of the grave, attempt to palliate, feeling they have produced these sad conse- quences. At the time, they seemed light and venial to me, and to others ; but now i view them differently, and regret from the bottom of my heart that I have 172 THE FLITCn OF BACON: OR, acquired the knowledge too late. The faults 1 impute to myself are wilfulness, and caprice: too great confi- dence in the power over you of my own personal attractions, coupled with the desire to exhibit it. Assu- ming an air of levity, foreign to my natural disposition, I appeared to listen to flattery which I despised. Affecting a passion for society because you preferred seclusion, though our tastes, in this respect, as in most others, were alike, I chose to be surrounded by com pany, when you desired to be alone ; thus contradicting you when our sentiments were secretly in accordance. A spoiled, pretty woman, accustomed to indulge my whims and fancies, and imbued with the notion that men were created to be my vassals, I thought my husband ought to submit to me in all things, and live but to please me. I cannot excuse myself on the plea of ignorance of your peculiarities. I was perfectly aware of them, and rather played upon them, than avoided, as I ought to have done, any chance of provo- cation. Feeling secure in your devotion to me, and confident in the power of my own charms, I thought little of the risk I ran. Nor when I first found out my mistake, did I care to repair it. Though aware of the fault I had committed, I would not own myself in the ^\Tong — least of all to you. So the breach was widened — ^widened irreparably as it proved — which at first might have been easily closed. Thus considered, light ofiences become crimes, and for these I suffer. Those wedded persons Avho tiifle with their happiness would do well to weigh this in time ; and my unfor- tunate case might serve as a warning, if there were any to profit by it. In my own justification, I may allege that I did not believe matters to be so bad as they eventually proved. Thinking you were merely piqued, and would love me all the better when cur reconcilia- tion occurred, I looked anxiously forward to it. Alas ! it never came. On the contrary, my imprudence had engendered suspicions in your breast, which could not be *^moved." THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 173 Here he laid down the letter, and some minutes olapsed before he wa3 able to go on with it. " In exculpaMng myself, I must needs exoidpato another, and tl* "^h 1 would not add one pang to those you must already feel, justice requires that I should clear from aspersion the memory of one who was a true friend to both of us — but chiefly to you, Sir Walter; who ever painted your good qualities in the brightest colours ; and shielded your defects, if you have any ; who hesitated not to tell me of my faults, and to point cut the mischief they would probably occasion ; who ever strove to mediate between us ; and who even, when he found he had incurred your suspicion and dis- pleasure, persevered in his good oflBces. " I will not recapitulate the afflicting circumstances that led to our complete i*upture. I know you were transported by passion and jealousy, and am sure you must have bitterly repented your blind fury. Reflection convinced me of this, though I understood it not at first ; and having sharply experienced the unhappiness occasioned by my o^vn folly, I determined to make a last gi-eat effort to retrieve myself in your opinion ))y fully confessing my faults, and throwing myself upon your compassion. With this view I sent for Su* Gilbert de Montfichet to aid me with his counsel as to the best means of effecting my purpose. Here again I acted indiscreetly ; but I was so agitated that n'.y better judgment deserted me, or I should not have appointed a secret interview with him. I have since learnt that my woman, Alice Aggs, betrayed me to you. May Heaven forgive her 1 Scarcely had Sir Gilbert heard my plan, and expressed approval of it, and willingness to undertake it, than you appeared. O, the terror of kliat scene ! Frenzy seemed to possess yoiu I tried to' tell you all I have here written. You woidd not listen to me. I clung to you, and you shook me off. Blood only would satisfy you — his blood. O, death ! O, despair 1 " Left alone, I could not. believe what had occurred 174: THE FLITCH tfP BACON: OK, It must have been a horrid vision — too horrid for reality. The terrible truth soon forced itself upon me. After futile messages, I sought you out in your private chamber, and tried to move you, and was again repulsed — savagely repulsed — ^but I heeded it not. I would have submitted to any indignity to avert the catastrophe I dreaded. It came ; and sooner than I expected. I have said I mean not to reproach you, Sir Walter — nor will I. Yet methinks, if you could have witnessed the effect of your message, you would not have sent it. O, that bloodstained handkerchief ! I needed not your note to tell me what had happened." He paused. Cold damps bedewed his brow ; and a severe spasm crossed his breast, the anguish of which extorted a cry. The paroxysm over, he arose, took up the handkerchief and the phial, and regarded them fixedly. He then sat do^vn again to conclude the letter. " A fearful change has taken place in me since I commenced ; but while my senses remain, let me con- jure you. Sir Walter, by all you hold sacred and just, not to disown our child ! He is your son ; let him be regarded as such. This is the dying request of a wife, who forgives you the wrongs you have done her. Since the poor child will never know a mother's care and love, let him have a father's. Do this, Sir Walter, and I will intercede for you above. May our son be a consolation to you, and a blessing ! Teach him to think kindly of me. And in long after years — which I trust you may live to see ! — m.ay he find, in some fortunate union, a happiness deni eJ to us. My blessings OD you both I "The Unhappy Juga." He wept; aloud. " How have her wishes been fulfilled !*' he exclaimed, %t length. " My son neglected and disowned — a Granger to his father. Yet how could I act otherwise, ince this letter has never reached me till now ; being tHE CUSTOM OF DUXMOW. ] 75 kept back, no doubt, designedly. But by wliom ? — Perhaps, by the same hand that placed it here — to- gether with those other fearful mementos. It may bo Roper who has done it — yet it seems scarce likely. Be it accident, or design, I am equally thankful for the discovery I have effected. Repai-ation shall be made, and promptly." IL PHANTOMS, He did not attempt to court repose. Sleep was out of the question in his present state of excitement. Then wherefore seek his couch, till he was calmer ? Calmer ! should he ever be calm again, till his brain had ceased to work, and his heart to beat 1 Should he ever know profound repose, till he slept the sleep of death 1 And what was to ensure him rest even within the tomb ? Had he not been told that her sad spirit wan- dered abroad at night to pour forth its lamentations? Had not he himself, not many hours ago, heard super- natural sounds ^vithin the Old Priory Church 1 And did he not involuntarily connect those sounds with her? But he rejected these evidences. Eeason derided them. Idle tales were those of ghosts, invented by poltroons and dotards. In his own case, mere delusion — fancy's coinage — products of an overwrought mind. No — no ! Death was utter annihilation ! Then what was Life? — Did he deny the Soul's existence 1 As well one as the other. He knew not what he doubted — ^what he denied. He felt on the verge of madness. Let him kneel down and pray. There was the little 'broidered cushion, on which she was wont to offer up her addresses to Heaven. It invited him to approach. 176 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, Yet he could not. It would be profanation. Besides, in liis present agitated frame of mind prayer would be unavailing. He pray ! — ^lia ! ha ! Would Heaven listen to him, if he did? The devil was busy with his heart, suggesting a dark and desperate deed, perplexing him with wild and fearful fancies, tossing him to and fro as on a tem- pestuous sea, and pointing to one only refuge from black despair. He strove to resist the dread suggestion; but it grew upon him with frightful force, and soon bore down all opposition. How could he face the son after the wrongs he had done the mother 1 He must ever shun his sight. Then why live? True, there was one gentle being united to that son who had listened to his sad history with tender interest, and seemed to compassionate him. But when she knew the whole terrible truth, would she not hate and shun him 1 Nay, was she not so entirely devoted to her husband, that whatever he did she would do likewise 1 No chance then of sympathy from her. He had broken all human ties — forfeited all human love. Such were the prompt- ings of the Fiend. Suicide had once already been committed in this chamber. Fit theatre — accursed, as it was ! — for such another deed. Ah ! the very phial that conveyed the deadly draught to her lips. Would it were replenished ! But he was not unprovided with weapons by which the same fatal end might be attained, and more expe- ditiously. No pang so great as those he now endured. And if there were — it would be over as soon as felt. His resolution taken, a dreadful calmness succeeded. Bolting the door for fear of interruption, he proceeded deliberately to unfasten his portmanteau, and took from it a case of pistols and a sword. A choice of death. He smiled grimly at the notion. He could afford to jest now. The pistols would be speediest ii THE CUSTOM OF DUXMOW. 177 effect ; but the sword would be the more appropiiate instrument of destruction, inasmuch as it was the very- weapon with which he slew his friend. This consider- ation decided him. He laid down the pistol-case, un- sheathed the shining blade, and placed its point against his heart. An instant more, and all had been over. But a merciful interposition stayed his hand. Ere the irrevocable step was taken, something had to be done. He was not yet quits with earth. He was bound to render explanation to his son ; to remo'vo every difficulty from his path ; and, above all, he was bound to clear the memory of his ill-fated wife from dishonour. This might be accomplished in Avriting. However irksome the task, it must be performed. It was the last ; ay, the last. And a ghastly smile again played upon his white lips. Laying down the sword with reluctance, he took out his watch. It wanted a quarter of midnight. Before one o'clock all should be ended. Again ha^^ng recourse to the portmanteau, and taking from it an escritoire and a bundle of papers, he placed them upon the table, and drew a chair towards it. Amongst other documents, the bundle contained his vnWj and having glanced at it, he re-inclosed it with the other papers, sealed the packet carefully, and directed it to Abel Roper. This done, he began the letter to his son, wiiich occupied him for some time, as he wished to make it full and explanatory. After entering into such detaiLi as he deemed necessary, he concluded by expressing entire approbation of the marriage the young man had made, and a firm conviction that the partner he had chosen, however inferior she might be to him in point of birth, was in all respects calculated to maks him happy; and he earnestly implored him to persevere in the course he had commenced, and to cultivate wedded love and calm domestic happiness as the first of human blessings; solemnly enjoining him to consider ho\^ the neglect of theao duties (though trifling in the first 178 THE FLrrcH OF bacon: or, instance), had led to disastrous consequences in his own case. Thus, while enjoying present felicity of the best and purest kind, his son might, in the fulness of t'^ae, be remembered as an example worthy of imitation; while he himself, if rescued from desei'ved oblivion, could bo only held up as a warning ! Though his purpose of ridding himself by violence of the load of care that oppressed him still continued inflexible, his thoughts, during the composition of this letter, took a gentler turn, and some clinging feelings to things of earth betrayed themselves, especially as he dwelt upon his son's wedded happiness and the affectionate nature of his wife. Oh, if that gentle being had been near him then, she might have diverted him from his direful purpose. Her image almost sufficed to do it. But he remained firm ; finished and sealed the letter, having first enclosed Lady Fitzwalter's sad communication within it ; and was about to address it, when a slight and singular vibration shook the chamber, and a deep sigh, appa- rently uttered near him, broke upon his ear. He raised his eyes. Heavens ! the sight he beheld. Between him and the window, through which the moonlight was streaming, stood a figure wrapped in a winding-sheet of white linen. The grave-clothes were folded round the head, so that the face alone could be discerned, and that indistinctly; but as much ot it as could be seen was deathlike and cadaverous in hue. The eyes were deep sunken, with no speculation in them. Changed as those features were from what they had been in life, he knew them. He essayed to address the phantom, but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and refused its office. The figure came nearer, without noiiie, without per- ceptible motion. Nearer — still nearer ! As it advanced, an atmosphere, chilling as death, by which it appeared to be surrounded, fell upon him. Shudderingly, he watched the spectre approach the THE CUSTOM OF DUXMOW. 179 table, point to the weapons upon it, solemnly sliake its head as if forbidding their use, and then retii'C. Slowly, noiselessly, without apparent movement, or it came, still facing him; still regarding him, with fixed and mournful gaze. Into the closet it passed. The arras seemad wafted asido as it neared them, closing upon it, as it glided in. Then, and not till then, did he recover power of speech and movement. Arising, and wildly ejaculating her- name, he made his way to the point of disap* pearance. He raised the arras, but did not enter the closet, remaining as if transfixed. The spirit of his wife was gone, and in its place stood another apparition infinitely more appalling. A sha- dowy figure, thin as air, luminous with pale phospho- rescent flame diffused around it, yet having the sem- blance of a man, stripped to the shirt as if for conflict, with a wound in the breast, from which blood had flowed. The phantom appeared to regard him sorrow- fully i-ather than vengefuUy, and motioned him back- wards. He let fall the tapestry. " Pardon ! — pardon, injured shades T he exclaimed, dropping on his knees. ** I abandon the wicked pur- pose I had formed, and will devote such life as may he spared me to the reparation of the wi-ongs I have doDe you !" Another sigh reached his ear, but less profound than the first. And the same vibration as before was felt throughout the room, though in a slighter degree. He looked up, hoping the spiiits might re-ajpppsr; but nothing was visible. PART THE FOURTH, BAB BASSINGBOUBNE. To see Bab at her best you should have seen her ix the fox-chase. Heavens ! how beautiful she looked then. Her whole soul was in the sport. Fire flashed from her liquid hazel eye, a bloom richer than roses dyed her downy cheek, and a triumphant smile played upon her proud ruby lip, as, mounted upon her favourite bay mare, Gipsy, she rattled along; — the hounds in full cry, and making the woodlands ring with their music, Reynard in view, and she herself leading the whole field, clearing everything before her — hedge, brook, bullfinch, hurdles, gate of many bars, no matter what — and sure to be «iie first in at the death. What a perfect horsewoman she is! With what incomparable ease she sits her bounding steed ! how lightly she holds the rein ! She and Gipsy seem as one. No effort in that leap, though those who follow her hesitate to take it. Gipsy seems scarcely to feel her rider's weight, and careers along joyously, as if proud of the lovely burden. And well she may be. Fairer huntress than Bab never joined in the chase since the days of peerless Dian. THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 181 The Squire may well be envied the j)Osse3sion of Bucli a treasure, and many an efibrt is made to carry her off from him. The attempts are unavailing. Sir John Grubham, who longs to make her mistress of Grubham Park, gets a decided refusal ; so does younj Chlpchase, of Clayberry ; and so does Colonel Clotworthy, irho threatens to blow out his brains if he is not ac- cepted. . However, neither Grub, Chip, nor Clot, as the Squire styles them, will take a "nay," but still persevere in their attentions. Frequent contests occur among Bab's admirers for a place by her side as she rides to cover, and fortunate in he who can out- manoeuvre a rival. On one occasion, poor Grub gets horsewhipped by the fiery Clot for pushing rudely past him, and a duel must have ensued but for the Squire's interference. Of late, whenever these quaiTels begin, Bab cuts the matter short by riding off, and leaving the wranglers behind- Bab is the pride of her uncle*s heart, and the delight of his eyes. What is still more to the purpose, she is understood to be his lieiress. Naturally, she is the toast of every fox-hunter throughout Essex. We know not how many bumpers of claret poor Grub daily drains to her honour — but with each glass he sighs and groans more deeply, till at last he sinks under the table, and for a time forgets his woes. Clot sings about her at his Club at the Axe and Bottle at B^'aintree, ai*d overcome by punch and sensi- bility, pulls out a pistol and threatens to terminate a vrretched existence. Nobody interferes to check his deadly purpose, for the scene is of nightly occurrence. Young Chip takes the matter more easily, and flatters himself he is a little in advance of his rivals. We can tell him he is mistaken. Not alone is Bab the admiration of huntsmen of high degree, but she is positively idolised by all those under her sway. Will Crane, the head huntsman, is never so happy as when he gets a smile from her, never 8C proud as when she commends him. Tom Deane, 182 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, the second huntsman, is just the same. Nat Smith, the feeder, thinks the day has not fairly begun till her sunny face has shone upon him. Even crusty old Paul Flitwick is not insensible to her sovereign attractions, but bows before them like the rest. There is a witchery in her voice that exercises a spell over the meaxest and sourest-tempered; aid all are alike obedioLt to its silver sound. Though Bab looked best in the chase, it is ii(jt so w» intend to present her. Unlv.ckily, a severe frost pre- v^ailed at the time of our story, and hunting was there- fore out of the question. A pity this, but it cannot be helped. The reader will be pleased to accompany us, on the moruing after the events previously narrated, to the arge hunting-kennel at Monkbury Place, where he svill find a splendid pack of fox-hounds — the best in Essex — and something better worth viewing than the inest hound that ever ran. The something better is a lovely girl. Ay, a very lovely girl, with healthful bloom upon ier cheek, and pure blood racing in her veins. Posy ips sundered to show the pearls they conceal. Bright tiazel eyes dancing with light-hearted mirth. Pich luburn locks, so inestimable in the eyes of the amorous G^rub, that he offered a thousand pounds for one of them, and vowed he would place it in a locket, and wea.r it for ever next his heart. As to complexion, what matters it if sun and air have somewhat dark- ened the peach-down on her cheek, and scattered a few Freckles on her snowy brow ! Is she the v.'orse for that? Not a bit, cries young Chip, and he's not a bad judge. Her features are not quite regular. No ! But the best sculptor that ever handled chisel could turn out nothing more charmingly coquettish than that aaucy little nose, more bewitching than that dimpling chin, or that Cupid's bow of a lip. Beauty, my good sir, has moulds beyond the reach of art. A figure light, slight, and elastic, and possessing all THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 183 the points that female symmetry requires, set ofl', as you see, by a graceful, sky-blue riding-habit, lacei with silver. And how becoming is that broad-leaved white beaver, with the sportive feather in it 1 There, sir, you have before you the reputed heiress of Monkbury, and the toast of the Essex fox-huntei-s. If you are not a stickler for classical features, yon will own she is perfectly beautiful. No wonder Grub Chip, and Clot, and so many other swains, are so much in love with her. The inclosure in which Bab stands is the grass court outside the principal kennel — for the Squire has a couple of well-built receptacles for his hounds — and in summer it is pleasant enough, for it has three or four fine hoi*se-chesnut trees to shade it — with a clear brook flowing through it — but now the trees are leafless, and the brook frozen. There is an inner-court, with brick floor and a well in the centre of it — and beyond this are the kennels. The whole space is sur- rounded by higli pales, and skirted by more trees. In the middle of the grass-court Is a little mound, and on this Bab has taken her station. She is talking to Will Crane, and just below them are Tom Deane, old Paul Flitwick, and Nat Smith. Will Crane is a hitn Jsome stout young fellow, with a ruddy complexion, clear blue eyes, and curly hair; not unlike what the Squire himself may have been in his young-^r days. Will, by- fche-by, is lugh in his master's good gT^ices, and is much favoured by Bab herself, who is far more condogcending to him than she is to some of his superiors, bo marked is this, that it provokes the jealousy of poor Grub, who rails against his ill-luck, and wishes he could change places with the handsome huntsman. Having said what she has to say to Will Crane, Bab orders Nat Smith to turn out the hounds, and foitn they all presently come, lifting up their mellow voiceii as they enter the gi-ass-court, and thronging eagerly towards the mound. Several of them struggle and quarrel for a foremost place, much in the manner oi N 184 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, Bab's admirers in the field. Old Charon — a staunch hound, and considered the leader of the pack — seizes Ringwood by the throat for presuming to push past him; and like quarrels ensue 'twixt Twanger and Tmeboy, and Goblin and Griper. Rare uproar they make. But the strife is speedily settled by a touch of Bab's whip, and harmony restored. While the rougher dogs are fighting, two of the privileged of the opposite sex — Madcap and Saucebox — make their way to the top of the mound, and by their caresses engross Bab's chief attention. Yet she is not neglectful of there.'-t, but has a word of encouragement for all. Anon, the clock in the old turreted and embattlevi gate-house near the stables strikes nine. It is the hour of breakfast, and Bab must obey the summons. But where is her uncle all this while ? He generally meets her in a morning, either at the kennel or the stables. She has seen nothing of him as yet. Imposing silence upon the noisy crew, she listens for the cheering cries that usually announce his approach. She hears nothing but a cough, proceeding from Mr. Mosscrop, the fat butler, who is waddling towards the kennel, as fast as his gout will permit, evidently charged with a mes- sage for her. What can have happened? She knows her uncle was out late the night before, and perhaps may have drunk a little too much punch. She hopes all is well. Still, it is not without anxiety that she asks Will Crane whether he has seen his master, and receives from him a reply, which at once relieves and surprises her. The Squire has been astir unusually eariy. He was at the stables more than two hours ago, and has sent off three mounted grooms ; one to summon Dr. Sid**- bottom j another to fetch Mr. Roper; and a third with a letter to Dr. Plot, an old gentleman staying at the Flitch at Dunmow. At the mention of Dr. Plot's name a knowing smile crosses cM Paul's crabbed countenance, and he looks THE CUSTOM OF DUXMOW. 185 as if lie could tell something if lie chose. But nobody puts a question to him. By this time, Mr. Mosscrop has come up, and wheezes out his message somewhat as follows : The Squire sends his excuses to Miss Bassingbourne — is obliged to breakfast in the library — not ill in the least — only a slight headache, which will go of^ pre- sently — has important papers to examine — ^Avisiies to be alone — mustn't be disturbed on any account. If any guests should arrive — and the Squire thinks it not improbable two gentlemen whom he invited last night may ride over to breakfast — Miss Bassingbourne will be pleased to do the honours for him. Of course Miss Bassingbourne will be happy to do all her uncle desires — ^but who are the two gentlemen expected 1 They are Sir Gilbert de Montfichet and Captain Juddock. " They must be coming now. I hear the sound of horses' feet in the avenue," Will Crane cries out, leaping upon the mound to obtain a better view. " Ay, there they be, sure enough. The young man in scarlet is Sir Gilbert, and no doubt the great big chap behind him in the blue riding-coat is the captain." " Bless me ! what am I to do with them ?" Bab ex- claims, in a tone of vexation. " How tiresome in my uncle to shut himself up in this ridiculous way, and leave me to entertain such people as these. However, I suppose I must do it. It wont do to send them away." '• No, that it wont. Miss," cries the butler. " The Squire was very particular in his directions. *Tell my niece, Mosscrop,' be said, * she must show 'eit CTery hospitality.' " *' You had better go to them. Will," Bab says to the huntsman, " and explain how matters stand. Get rid of them if you possibly can." Will laughed, and set forth on liis errand. As he passed the butler, he received a wink from the latter, which informed him what he oujjht to do. 186 THE FLITCH UP BACON: OR, Either he must have been veiy stupid, or the new- comers would not take a hint, for to Bab's mortifica- tion her envoy presently returned, with the strangers following him. On nearing the kennel, Sir Gilbert sprang fi-om hia horse, and, flinging the bridle to Tom Deane, entered the gi*ass court, and made a ceremonious bow to Miss Bassingboume, while Mosscrop took upon himself the office of gentleman-usher, and duly presented them to each other. Bab's salutation was aa distant as she could make it. — and her reception of the gay young baronet anything but flattering to his vanity ; but Mr. Mosscrop played his part so well, was so uncommonly 3ivil, and even cordial, saying everything his master would have said on the occasion — and perhaps a trifle more — that Sir Gilbert did not feel as much dis- couraged as he might otherwise have done — more especially as Bab — from common politeness — was obliged in some degree to acquiesce in the butler's expressions of welcome. " Breakfast will be ready very shortly. Sir Gilbert," Mosscrop said, in conclusion. "The men will take your horses round to the stables. You Avill remember his honour was very particular in begging you and your friend would make yourselves quite at home." " Oh I no fear of that," rejoined the young baronet, laughing. " A very civil fellow, that butler of yours, jVIiss Bassingboume," he added, as Mosscrop waddled off towards the house. " He presumes a good deal upon his favour with my uncle," Bab replied, coldly, and without raising her Byes from Saucebox, whose head she was patting. Most men would have been daunted by her manner, but luckily Sir Gilbert's assurance stood him in good itead. " I ought to apologise for coming at such an unsea- onable hour," he remarked ; " but my old friend the squire was so pressing in his invitation, and my impaf THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 187 tieiice to behold one of wliom I have h«aru such rap- turous accounts was so great, that ^' " Peace, Coxcomb," Bab cried, to one of the hounds. " Peace, sirrah !" " I had heard a great deal of Miss Bassinglxiume's beauty," Sir Gilbert continued, not in the least abashed, " but I must say the description came very far short of the reality." " Give Bouncer the whip, Paul,** Bab cried, " and make him hold his tongue. Would you like to see the stables Y' she added, abruptly, to Sir Gilbert. "Of all things, if you will show them to me." " I was going to bid Will Crane go with you; but if you would prefer my doing so " " Can you doubt it f ' Sir Gilbert exclaimed, gal- lantly. " Pshaw ! I hate compliments," Bab cried, pettishly. "And I never pay them," the imperturbable ba- ronet rejoined. " Indeed, I should think flattery im- possible where Miss Bassingbourne was concerned." " This is insuff*ei*able," Bab cried. " Do you take me for a fool. Sir Gilbert?" " I take you for a very charming person." " I'm not at all charming, and I hate those who call me so." "Then you must hate every man who addrasses you." " Perhaps I do. At all events, I prefer hounds and horses to men. Tlio former have no nonsense about Uiem." " You cannot complain of the involuntary homage aid to your beauty." " When homage ceases to be respect, and takes the rbrm of adulation, it becomes offensive, and as such I resent it. I would rather not be admired at all, than admii-ed in such a way. I have no idea of any cox- comb who pleases amusing himself at my expense." "No fear of that. Miss Bassingbourne, with the 188 THE FLITCH OP BACOX: OR, weapons of wit you have at command. But here cornea m^ friend Captain Juddock. Permit me to present him to you." " What a strange-looking object !" thought Bab, as tjje giant approached her, kicking out his great booted legs to the infinite disturbance of the hounds in his path, arranging his long, dangling cravat, pulling down his black horse-hair wig, and giving himself what he conceived to be an excessively killing air. if Juddock expected to achieve a conquest of the beauty, he was a little out in his calculations. While making her a flourishing conge, what did he do but bring down his heavy three-cornered, gold-laced hat plump upon Charon's head, so provoking the choleric old hound, whose temper had been previously rather ruffled by Bingwoodj that he instantly flew at him; while Twanger and Trueboy, and some half-dozen others who had sufiered from the giant's careless feet^ joined in the attack. Old Paul could have called them ofl" in a moment, but there was a glint in the comer of Bab's bright eye which did not escape him, and he let them alone. Will Crane and the others were outside the court with the horses, but very probably they would have acted in the same manner as the old whipper-in. Even Sir Gilbert could not help laughing at his friend's position. Juddock, however, thought it no laughing matter , and finding the number of his foes momently increasing, he kicked his boots about more vigoi'ously than ever, bellowing all the time like a baited bull. At last he took to his heels and fled, with the whole pack after him, dashing through the gate of the inclo- sure, and making for the park. So excessively diverted were W ill Crane and his companions with the scene, that they had to hold their sides for laughter, and could render the fugitive no assistance whatever. Besides, he was gone in a moment; and he might have been in possession of the seven-leagued boots, so tremendous were the strides he took. But though he kept a-head of his pursuers for a while, he would not have come off THE CUSTOM OF DT7NM0W. 189 with a whole skin, if it had not been for o young man, who suddenly started up, and quickly succeeded, by his voice and gestures, in stopping the yelling pack. In a minute or two more. Will Crane and Tom Deane came up, their merriment still breaking out at intervals, in spite of all efforts to repress it. The giant was helped from out a tree up which he had clambered for safety, and the hounds were driven back to the kennel. Juddock looked about for his preservfcx', but the young man had disappeared. Bab, Ave must admit, had been amused by the occur- rence — at least, by the first part of it ; but when the ohase began in earnest, she ordered Will Crane and the others to follow instantly, and prevent mischief. They would have been too late, however, if it had not been for the opportune help which Juddock received. Not a little crestfallen, as may be supposed, the giant returned to the neighbourhood of the kennel; but he declined to enter it again. Bab now came out to him, and expressed her regrets at the disaster ; but lier looks rather contradicted the wicked little crea- ture's assertions, and Juddock smiled incredulously. " Don't distress yourself. Miss B.," he cried. " It's all right now. Udsbores! those rascally huntsmen of yours ought to be hanged, especially the old whipper-in. I heard him set the hounds upon me. Egad, I felt very much like a fox, and I should have shared the fate of a fox, too, if it hadn't been for an acquaintance of yours. Sir G., who started cnt of the ground as if by magic, and saved me froir becoming dog's meat." " When you say * an acquaintance of mine,' Jack, /ou don't refer to a certain old gentleman who gene- rally makes his api:>earance from below?'* Sir Gilbert remarked, suiting the action to the word. '* No, faith ! this is a young gentleman. But he must have dealings with the old one, to account for his sudden disappearance. He was gone before I could lurn round in the tree in which I sought refuge; 190 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, and both of those scoundrelly huntsmen declare they saw nothing oi" him. I believe the rascals were lying, though." •' Kelieve my impatience, and toil us who he was," Sir Gilbert said. " Prepare yourself for a start, as the actors do,. Sir G. On my life, it was no other than Fi-anl? Woodbine." "He here! are you sure it was Frank?" Bab ex- claimed, quickly. And then feeling she had displayed too much interest in the question, her cheeks became the colour of carnation. Her confusion did not escape Sir Gilbert. *• I couldn't be mistaken about him," Juddock said, in reply to Bab's remark ; " though he was much better dressed than usual — in fact, quite like a gen- tleman. He must have put on a suit of his master's clothes." " Strange he should be here. Do you know tliis young gamekeeper, Miss Bassingbourne ?" Montfichet asked, looking hard at her, as he put the question. But her momentary embarrassment had passed away, and she answered with apparent unconcern — " Oh yes, I know him. It is odd he should be in the jiark at this early hour." " Quite unaccountable," the young baronet said. " 'Tis a wonder he can leave his pretty wife — ain't it, Sir G. 1" Juddock cried, with a great laugh, and winking at his patron. " Hush !" Montfichet said, checking him by a look. " Oh ! I'm mum," the giant replied. " What can you have to say about her ]" Bab ex- claimed, regarding him scornfully. " Oh ! nothing whatever to her disaJlot, iirging the Squire to accept the young baronet's proposal. This recommendation is signed by all the party, with the exception of the indi- vidual mentioned in it. Both communications being completed, are put under one cover, sealed, and delivered to Mosscrop, to be by him conveyed to his master. Poor Grub looks as if he would faint as the butler departs on his errand. Clot and Chip look blank, but Montfichet can scarcely contain himself for his delight. Having nothing else to do, Juddock walks to the great bay-window, and looks out from it upon the teiTace. What ia it he sees, that induces him to come back so quickly to Sir Gilbert, and drag him to the window 1 " Look there !" he whispers triumphantly. " Trust J. J. for keeping a sharp look-out. Look there, I say. Do you see him ?*' " I see a young man standing before an open window on the groimd floor, on the right," Montfichet replied — " but his back is towards us " " It is Frank Woodbme. There, lie turns his head. You are convinced it is he, now ?" " Whom is he talking to so earnestly f Montfichet cried, growing pale with the thought that crossed him. "You'll learn, presently," Juddock replied, with a suppressed laugh. " A lucky dog that gamekeeper !" Perdition seize him ! Montfichet can scarcely believf his eyes. A beautiful head and neck are popped out of the window. It is Bab, then, who has been talking to him. Presumptuous fellow ! He can't mean it 1 He won't dare ! By Heavens ! he does put his arm round her neck, and kiss her. In his i*age, Montfichet cannot help rapping upon the glass. The beautiful head is withdrawn in a moment, and Franlc Woodbine walks away in some confusion. " In a few minutes you'll know your fate, Sir Gil- bert," Parson Bush observed, coming up. " But I can- not doubt you'll he made the happiest of men.'* 204 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, "Not in the way you expect, sir," Montfichet cried. " I've changed my mind, and shall write to the Squire to tell him so." " How is this ?" Grub cried, springing forward. But Clot pushed him aside. " You've no right to change your mind so (juickly, Sir Gilbert. Assign a reason for your extraordinai" conduct," the Colonel thundered. " I shall give none," Montfichet replied. " 1 resign my pretensions to the young lady." " But I insist upon an explanation, sir," Clot cried, fj.ercely. " Insist, sir !" the young baronet exclaimed. " I do not recognise any authority on your part to catecliiso me. I refuse any explanation whatever." " Then sir, let me tell you ^" "My good Colonel," Parson Bush interposed — *• permit me to say you are rather intemperate. Sir Gilbert is certainly acting rather strangely to make a proposal one minute, and withdraw it the next, but probably he has some motive which we do not clearly understand." " 'Sblood ! sir — I beg your pardon for swearing — we have all supported him," Clot exclaimed. " We are aU committed in the matter. He shall go through with it. He shall marry her if she accepts him — by the Lord Harry, he shall. He shall fight us all — if he declines — not you, sir, because you're a parson, but all the rest of us." " Ay, all the rest," added Grub and Chip. " Very well, gentlemen — as you please," Montfichet replied. " I wont marry Miss Bassingbource^ and that's flat." " I don't think you will, sir, if she herself is con- sulted," Bab said, partly opening a door in the great oak screen. At the same moment, another door opened, and who should eiiter from it but Rose Woodbine. She was in a bonnet and cloak, as if she had just arrived. On THE CUSTOM OF DUXMOW- 205 seeing Sir Gilbert and the others she would have retired at once, but the young baronet sprang forward, and detained her. " Rose," he cried, " I must say a word to you. Your husband is utterly unworthy of your love. He has wronged you — cruelly wronged you." " Let me go. Sir Gilbert. I will not listen to a word more," Rose replied. " You think I am deceiving you," Montfichet con- tinued, vehemently, " but I swear I speak the truth. Not many minutes since I beheld him with his arms round the neck of a lovely young woman — very superior in station to himself — superior to you too, Rose — though far — very far inferior in beauty." " We saw him kiss her," Juddock cried, coming up — " kiss her, Mrs. W. Oh ! shocldng doings ! shock- ing doings ! Fmnk ought to be ashamed of himself. Such a charming \vife, too ! Udsbores ! I'd be revenged- upon the faithless fellow, if I were you." " Revenge is in your power," Montfichet cried. " Fly at once with me." " Yes, fly with us," Juddock added. " Leave the base deceiver behind." " Release me, I command you, Sir Gilbert ; or I will place myself under the protection of these gentlemen." " Have you no jealousy. Rose T the young baronet replied, regai-ding her with astonishment, as he let go her hand. "Not the slightest," she replied. "I have perfect faith in my husband." " But I swear to you I saw him embrace Mias Bas- 8ingboiu*ne — ^tenderly embrace her," Sir Gilbert cried. Rose's tranquillity did not seem in the least disturbed. "What's that we heard about embracing Miss Bassingboume, Sir Gilbert ?" Clot demanded, coming up at this juncture with the others. " A moment's patience, gentlemen. You shall have eveiy explanation anon," Montfichet replied. " We must have it now — vf ithout an instant's delay/* 20b THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, Clot cried. " Miss Bassingbourne's name must not be used disrespectfully." " Miss Bassingboume is much obliged to you, gentle- men, but she can take care of herself," Bab cried, stepping forward. " Come this way, Bose, dear. Your husband is in the next room. 1 have been looking for yoiL" Bose instantly flew at the call, and the door closed upon them. "Amazement !" the young baronet cried. And the exclamation was repeated by all the others. IV. CONTAINING EXPLANATIONS, RECONCILIATIONS, AND JUBILATIONS. We will now, if you please, proceed to the library. It was in this room, that, in his capacity of Justice of the Peace, our worthy Squire transacted business; signed warrants, summonses, recognisances, and orders; heard complaints, settled disputes, and granted licence^ Here, also, he gave audiences to such as were desirous of consulting him, saw his tenants, and received his rents. Here he relieved the poor, and dispensed his charities with no stinting hand. The room was plainly furnished, and possessed only a few old-fashioned oak chairs, and a large oak table, on which writing materials and certain books of reference — ^the "Magistrate's Assistant" amongst others — were placed. The Squire was no great reader, — especially of divinity, in which department of learning his library was unusually rich, but his shelves were well furnished with goodly tomes. Over the cliimney-piece hung a portrait of his father. General Monkburj'- — a very dif- ferent person from his son, to judge from his morose countenance. There were two dcors to the library; one, communicating with the hall, which was masked THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 207 by a large Japan screen ; the oxner opening upon a passage connected with a waiting-room, where those who had business with the Squire tarried for admission to his presence. The Squire was now seated with his back towards the table, and his face to the fire, the light of which showed that his usually cheerful visage was somewhat troubled. Near him sat Dr. Sidebottom and Mr. Roper. Though dying to know why he had been sent for, the Vicar had not yet obtained any information on the subject from his friend, and did not like to appear too curious. On his side, Monkbury was extremely desi- rous of imparting what he had got to tell, but he dreaded, above all things, being laughed at ; and such, he did not doubt, would be one consequence of the disclosures he was about to make. So, contrary to his usual practice of going straight to the point, he avoidec' the matter uppermost in his thoughts, and kept chao- tering about things in which he felt comparatively little interest — the frost — Jonas's chance of the Flitch — Montfichet's return to Stansted House — thf> young baronet's extravagance and debts. Mr. Roper was better informed than the Vicar. Having amved half an hour before the reverend gentleman, during that time he had had a long and interesting conversation with the Squire, and had made some arrangements for him. But things could not go on in this way for ever, so at last, Monkbury screwed his courage to the sticking point, and began — "You'll be surprised to learn, doctor, — now don't laugh, I beg of you— don't even smile — or I shall never get on. — You'll be surprised, I say, to learn that I, whom you have always looked upon as an old bachelor, should have been " "Well, sir," Sidebottom said, preserving his gravity as well as he could, for there was something very comical in the Squire's expression of countenance — " 1 am all attention." "Tell him. Roper," Monkbury cried — "for, may a murrain seize mc, if I can bring my lips lo utter it.'* 208 THE FLITOi OF BACON: OR, "The Squire wishes to acquaint you, Dr. Sidebottom," the steward said, "with a secret connected with himself^ which, for reasons he wiil, no doubt, presently explain, has been hitherto caref jil^y preserved. His hesitation in disclosing it arises probably from the fear that you might censure his conduct." "You'll think me a great fool, and perhaps some- thing worse, — I know you will, doctor," Monkbury ex- claimed, getting up and stirring the fire. " Don't anticipate my verdict," Sidebottom said, in a bland and encouraging tone. " In some respects I am a latitudinarian, and can make large allowances for the indiscretions of youth." "I know you can — but you would never suspect this of me — scarcely believe it, when told. It's contrary to my maxims of celibacy. It's a folly I've been laughing at, in others, all my life. Now, they'll laugh at me, and deservedly." "Am I to understand, sir, that you have committed matrimony?" Sidebottom inquired. " Yes, you are, doctor. Instead of an old bachelor you behold a widower. There, now it's out. Did you imagine I could make such an ass of myself ? Ha ! ha ! Why don't you laugh, doctor ?" " T feel no inclination for merriment, sir. I fancy I can understand why you have kept this matter secret — and why you have given it out that you would live and die a bachelor." "False pride, doctor — false pride. Contemptible weakness. I despise myself for it. Mine was a secret marriage — secret, because the proud old General (whose frowning face looks down upon me now), with '.he blood of the Mordaunts in his veins, would never con- sent to my union with a poor curate's daughter. It was never afterwards disclosed, from a weak, silly, and ^mworthy sense of shame on my part, coupled with a dread of ridicule. My wife, doctor, was Grace Leslie, ^e daughter of your old curate." " Now you indeed surprise me, sir," Sidebottom re- THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 209 joined. " I remember Grace well — a most beautiful young person. This, then, was the cause of her sudden withdrawal from her father's roof. I was far from thinking she had married, and am glad to have your assurance of the fact. I fear poor Leslie and his mfe were no better informed than myself Grace went into Cumberland, as I understood, but I never knew what became of her. I did not like to make inquiries." "She died there during my father's lifetime," the Sqaire said, with a saddened look, " and that was one reason why the marriage was never acknowledged." " In justice to her memory the avowal sJumld have been made," Dr. Sidebottom remarked, more gravely than he had hitherto spoken. " And this was an im- perative duty if there were children." "You are quite right, doctor, and I have sadly neglected my duty. However, I will make amends." "Then I am to understand there are children, sir?" " You have seen one. She is mistress of tliis house. My so-called niece is in reality my daughter — my youngest daughter." " And your eldest daughter, sir ! — where is she ?" " Pardon me, doctor, if I do not satisfy your curiosity on this point at the present moment. Thus much I will tell you. Until last night I was scarcely aware of her existence, for she was removed from her mother's care almost in infoncy, and owing to a betrayal of trust on the part of a person to whom she was confided, I could discover no traces of her. Now, thanks to Roper, all has been satisfactorily cleared up — and I am, or speedily shall be, in possession of my lost child." " You will choose your own time for revealing the matter fully to me," Sidebottom said — "though I think I can guess the truth. But permit me to ask one question. Is your niece — that is to say, your daughter — aware of the exact relationship between you ?" " Why, yes," the Squire replied, with some hesitation ^-" but she is not acquainted with the whole truth. 210 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, Poor Grace had pledged herself uever to reveal our marriage without my permission — and I never gave it her." The Vicar shook his head, and was about to reprove the Squire for his unjustifiable conduct, when his cen- sures were nipped in the bud by the entrance of Moss- crop, who announced Dr. Plot. Glad of the reprieve, the Squire instantly arose and advanced to welcome his friend, who walked slowly into the room. The old gentleman's countenance bore traces of the severe mental and bodily suffering he had undergone, and all present were struck with the great change which had taken place in him. Still, though very feeble, and moving with difficulty, owing to his lameness, he maintained his customary dignified de- portment. " My dear Sir Walter," the Squire cried, as soon ai Mosscrop had retired, " how glad I am to see you here How kind in you to come to me. I will explain to you presently why I sent for you — but sit down — ^sit down." " Thank ye, Monkbury, thank ye," Sir Walter re- plied, sinking into the chair offered him. " I did not think you and I should ever meet again — still less, that I. should ever more set foot in this house. But here I am — and Heaven be praised ! I am spared strength for an interview with you, which I much desire. I am glad you are here, too. Dr. Sidebottom — and you, Koper. You look hard at me I perceive, my good friends. You find me wofully altered. More than twenty j'-ears have flown by since I was last in this house. Those years have done their work upon me, but I have been more changed in the last few hours than by the half century preceding them. Oh ! such a night as I have passed," he continu*='d, shuddering ; *' such agony as I have endured — such terrors. But I am a better man, doctor — a much better man. I am no longer proud and unyielding — I am humble of heart, penitent, seeking forgivejiess.** THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 211 '* I rejoice to hear you say so, Sir Walter," Dr. Side- bottom observed. " Those are signs of a wholesome change. You will do well to ease your bosom of its load. You are sure of our interest and sympathy, as well as our best counsel — if you need it." "Bear up, Sir Walter — bear up, manfully," the Squire said, squeezing his hand. " We have all our faults — all." " But few have such faults as mine, Monkbury," Fitz- walter replied, shaking his head sadly. " I have com- mitted great crimes in error — and though I repent them, it is not enough — I must make reparation. Listen to me, and believe — implicitly believe — what lam about to relate to you. Last night, as you know, I was guest in the house of which I once was master, and I occupied a room full of terrible reminiscences. Scarcely had I entered it, when I accidentally made a discoveiy that in a moment swept away a world of false suspicion that had gathered round my heart, and cankered it. A letter came into my hands — a letter from my dead wife — comj^letely establishing her innocence, and proving how foully I had -wronged her by my unjust suspicions." Here his utterance was choked by sobs, and for a few moments he was unable to proceed. " Conceive my emotions on making this discovery. But no ! you cannot conceive them. You have not my guilt upon your souls. Despair and madness stared me in the face, and shrieked in my ears the crimes I had committed — a friend murdered — a wife destroyed ! I resolved to put an end to my own existence." " Heaven be thanked your rash hand was stayed !" the Vicar exclaimed. " How I was saved you shall hear. I had a docu- ment to prepare, which even in that terrible moment could not be avoided, and when all was completed, and I had taken leave of the world, a messenger was sent from the grave to arrest my fell purpose. My dead wife stood before me — commanding me to desist. She vanished — and another phantom rose up in her place." 212 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OB, "Another phantom?" Roper exclaimed. "Ay, another — and far more terrible than the first — ^that of my slaughtered friend." A deep silence succeeded this narration, which had painfully interested the listeners. At the mention of the second phantom, Koper glanced at the Squire. " I will not say that the visions you beheld were creations of o'erwrought fancy, Sir Walter," Dr. Side- bottom observed, at length ; " though, under such cir- cumstances as you have described, the conclusion would be natural. I am bound to say that the room you occupied is supposed to be haunted by the spirit of your late wife, and many persons affirm they have seen the apparition." "Amongst the number, I affirm so," the Squire said. ** I saw her as plainly as I see Sir Walter himself. As regards the second phantom, you will recollect, doctor, that Jonas told us last night he had been scared by a spectre with a gash in its breast, and that its lineaments seemed to resemble those of the ill-fated Sir Gilbert de Montfichet." " Summon him not before me," Fitzwalter almost shrieked, clasping his hands before his face, as to exclude some dreadful object from his vision. "That breast was pierced by my sword — that blood was shed by my hand, and will rise up in judgment against me." " Be comforted, Sir Walter," Dr. Sidebottom said, kindly. " To the truly penitent grace is never denied, and you may yet, in some degree, atone for your offences." "Much, Tinhappily, is irreparable," the Squire added; "but not all. You have a son whom you have dis- owned. Be reconciled to him." " It is my sole desire," Fitzwalter replied. " The document I just now mentioned, which I supposed would be delivered after my death, was intended for him. It was to put him in possession of my property, and clear his mother's memory from reproach. My chief motive in coming hither, in compliance with your THE CUSTOM OP DUNMO^- 213 summons, Monkbury, was to request you to act for me as if I were no more. I shall place the paper in your hands, and then hide myself for ever from the world." " You shall do nothing of the kind if I can prevent you, Sir Walter," the Squire replied, bluntly, yet kindly. " I hope you have many happy years in store for you, to bo passed in the society of your son. Whatever your intentions may be towards him, you may make them known to him, yourself, as soon as you please, for I may as well at once inform you that he is here— in this house." " I cannot face him," Sir Walter cried, rising, as if to depart. "Take this packet. Give it to him. It will explain all. I will write further." " You shall not go till you have seen him," the Squire said, detaining him. " You need not fear his -Reproaches." "I do not fear reproaches. I could bear them. Kindness would kill me." " Tut ! — tut ! — I know better. Bring Alured Fitz- walter to his father, floper." " A moment !" the old man cried, imploringly. But the steward heeded him not, and left the room. Sir Walter pressed his hand to his side as if to still the beating of his heart, and looked towards the door eagerly, yet timorously. At last, quick footsteps were heard approaching. " He comes ! he comes !" he cried. " Now for the trial ! Help me to sustain it. Heaven !" As the pmyer was uttered, the door opened, and the young man we have known as Frank Woodbine, entered the room, followed by Roper. Father and son gazed at each other for a momen/ unable to give utterance to their deep emotions. Then Alured started forward, and springing into Sir Walter's outstretched arms, was strained to the old man's bosom. Truly, it was a moving sight The Squire had to 214 THE FLITCH or BACON: OR, dry his eyes, and both the Vicar and Roper coughed and cleared their throats. " I have not known such joy for years," Sir Walter cried, at length, gently disengaging himself. "We must never part more, my son. I will make full atone- ment for the past. Have I your forgiveness ?" " You have it from the bottom of my heart, father,** Alured replied. " There, I told you how it would be, Sir Walter," the Squire said. " I knew all would be right in a minuU Rs soon as you two came together. Atonement and forgiveness are the order of the day, and I must take my turn at them, I hope I may get off as well as you. We've been a couple of hard-hearted, unnatural j^arents, it must be owned. Sir Walter, and have stood very much in the way of our own happiness." " / have done so, most undoubtedly, my good friend,'* Fitzwalter replied. " But as to you " " Nay, I've been just as bad," the Squire cried. " I wont attempt to palliate my own misconduct. But Sir Walter looks faint. Lead him to a chair, Alured." " Oh, my boy ! my boy ! — that I could ever desert thee !" Sir Walter ejaculated. "And oh, my daughter ! — my daughter ! that I should have done the like by thee !" the Squire exclaimed. " His daughter ! What means he ?" Fitzwalter in- quired. " He alludes to my wife," Alured replied. " Yes — yes, it's quite true," the Squire said. •' Things have come about most strangely. If we had planned them, they would never have happened so. I hope you don't object to your son's marriage. Sir Walter f* " Object I" Fitzwalter cried. " Alured indeed has got a treasure. Never was man more fortunate. Ma;- HeaA'en bless them both, and keep them as it has done hitherto !" " I cry * Amen' to that wish with all my soul !" the Pquire said, fervently. " But I must prepare for id^ •»wii ordeal. Where is Rose ?" THF CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 215 " She is with Miss Bassingbourne/' Alured replied. " With her sister, Bab Monkbury, you mean," the Sqiiire rejoined. " These disguises are at an end now I have two daughters, you must know, Sir Walter. Kose is ray eldest." " A dozen like her were not too many," Fitzwalter Replied. " I don*'; know that,'* the Squire rejoined. " Two are quite enow. I shall divide mj. lands between them." " No necessity for that," Sir Walter said. " My son is rich enough. My estates are his. He shall not wait till I am gone for his inheritance." Alured would have remonstrated, but a look from his father checked him. " I cannot give you my title," Sir Walter added ; " but it will soon be yours." *' I shall lose Biib if I don't take care," the Squire remarked, with a laugh. " Scarcely a day passes but I get an oflfer for her hand, and this very morning I have received one from Sir Gilbert de Montfichet, backed up by an array of supportei-s. However, I can have nothing to say to him, even if Bab were inclined to listen to his suit, for Roper tells me he is a ruined man." " Do not reject him on that score," Sir Walter said, quickly. " The young man has been a spendthnft and a gambler, and has fallen into bad hands, but he has been preserve*! from utter ruin. He has not a bad heart, and may reform — nay, I am persuaded, if he gets a good wife, he will reform. Recollect, we are not quite faultless ourselves, my good friend. I will tell you more about him at a fitting opportunity. And now, Alured," he continued, turning to his son, " answer me one question, ere we see yoiur wife. Does she know you ai-e my son f* " No, my father," he replied. " My ti*ue name slw? knows, but not whence it is derived — nor has she evei sougnt lor an explanation which she felt I might de«ire 216 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, to withhold. Aware I had good motives for the adop- tion of an assumed name, and being almost similarly circumstanced herself, she readily comprehended the necessity for concealment in my case. When we first met, she had no reason to believe me other than of humble birth ; and as, in addition to all other motives for disguise, I wished to win her heart for myself alone, I did not undeceive her. She thought me peasant born. As a peasant I wooed her. As a peasant I ^ceived her hand. And as a peasant I should have continued to her, had it not been for this reconciliation with you, my father !" Sir Walter murmured a few words of self-reproach, and the young man went on. "As Alured Fitzwalter I wedded her, while she came to me as Rose Monkbuiy. To all others she had been Kose jNIildmay. With me she had no mysteries. Nay, almost on our first acquaintance, and before she gave me her whole heart, she warned me that a cloud hung upon her birth. She told me whose daughter she was — but she feared her mother had been wronged." " There she was mistaken," the Squire cried. " Grace Leslie was my true and lawful wife. The ceremony was performed by my present chaplain. Parson Bush. We were secretly married in the little church in the Park. Roper knows all about it, for he stood father on the occasion, and gave the bride away. Besides, there are plenty of witnesses still living — old Paul Flitwick — Mosscrop — Tom Deane — and the certificate duly signed by Bush, and Roger Bowes, the clerk." " I am fully satisfied, sir," Alured said — " but it was only this morning, at a very early hour, that Rose became acquainted with the happy fact in a letter she received from worthy Mr. Roper, who detailed all the circumstances you have mentioned. You liiay conceive her joy at the intelligence — for it removed the only afiiiction of her life." " How she must have hated me !" the Squire exclaimed "Zounds ! I quite hate myself!" THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 217 ** Rose can hate no one — much less one to whom she owed her birth — but she confessed she could not look upon you — and purposely avoided you. These preju- dices arose, no doubt, from some motive not worth inquiring into now, which had been early instilled into her breast. But all that is past." " And a good job it is," the Squire said. ^''Wonld that the same disclosure had been made to Bab. It' would have saved the necessity of explanation." " Make yourself easy on that score," Alured replied. " Bab knows all. On my arrival here I instantly com- muB icated to her the substance of Roper's letter, and her ebullition of delight at the news was, I think, not without a witness in the person of Sir Gilbert de Montfichet." " Did Rose never meet her sister?" the Squire asked. " She could not have the same antipathy to her, that she naturally had to me." "I beseech you to believe, sir, that she had no antipathy to you. As you have asked the question, I must tell you that the sisters did occasionally meet — and I myself was once surprised in an interview with Bab, by Jonas Nettlebed and your old whipper-in, Pau) Flit\vick, which gave rise, I believe, to some miscon- struction on their part." " Soh — this was the story Jonas had to tell, which was to prove your inability to win the Flitch, to the little landlord's gi-eat contentment." " If any married couple ever desei-ved to obtain that prize for perfect happiness, love, and devotion to each other, we are justly entitled to it," Alured said. " And by Heaven you shall have it 1" the Squire txclaimed. " Hold ! sir, hold ! — make no rash promises," Roper interposed. " The claim must be preferred under the proper names of the parties, and decided upon at the Court Baron." " I know what the decision will be," the Squire said. "And I know what it ought to be," Sir Waltei 216 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OB, tdded. " My son has the best of -svives — ^that i will maintain." " And if you will listen to Rose, Sir Walter, she will maintain sLe has the best of husbands," Roper said. " And she is perfectly right, for they are admirably matched," the Squire cried ; " but do let her come in, and speak for herself Since I find I have no more explanations to give, I am perfectly easy. Is she within call, I wonder," he added, going to the door, and raising his voice — " Rose ! Rose ! — where are you, my darling ?" " Who is it calls ?" she exclaimed, quickly respond- ing to the summons. " Your father," he rejoined, catching her in his arms as she entered the room, and folding her to his breast. " Heaven bless you, my child ! How like your dear mother you are, to be sure !" he added, gazing at her features, through eyes half blinded by tears. "Say you forgive me, Rose, and I shall be quite happy." " I do indeed forgive you, father, — if I have anything to pardon," she replied, fondly returning his embrace. Again, there were moist eyes among the lookers-on. " Which am I to call you now, sir — Uncle, or Papa?" Bab cried, archly. She had followed her sister into the room, but remained near the door. " Papa, of course," the Squire replied, holding out an arm for her — "there is room here for you both. Zounds ! I don't deserve to be so happy. But I'll make everybody else as happy as I can. This shall be a day of rejoicing in the hall — a grand day — such a merry- making — such feasting — such carousing. A cask of the strongest ale shall be broached — the best wine in my cellar shall be brought out — and we'll drink a health to my two Daughters. I'll keep open house for a week — ay, for a month. All my tenantiy shall be enter- tained — and even strangers shall be welcome. No maii shall be turned from my gate. Go, Roper, and assemble the household in the hall — all the folk in-doors and out of-doors,-^verybody — mind! — I'll present my daugh- THE CUSTOM Or DUNMOW. 219 ters to them. Stay! there are guests in the house. Request their attendance here, and tell them why I desire it. It will save time and trouble, and expla- nations which I abominate." " Your commands shall be obeyed, sir," the steward repiied^ departing. " A word with you, Bab," the Squire said, taking her a little aside. " What do you think of Sir Gilbert de Montfcnet? — A handsome, gay young fellow — eh?" " La 1 Papa, I've scarcely given him a thought. He's a shade better than Sir John Grubham, perhaps." " Well, he has sent me an offer. What answer shall I give him?" " A decided and positive ' No.' Td rather die single than have him." " Poor fellow ! I pity him," the Squire exclaimed. " You needn't give yourself any concern about him. Papa. I heard him declare just now that he had changed his mind — and wouldn't have me, even if you consented." " I know why that was," the Squire rejoined ; " he saw a young gentleman there," nodding at Alured, " conversing with you — and he didn't quite understand why you should be so intimate with him. But that would be at once set to rights. The only question is what you " " I've given you my answer, Papa.** " Recollect he is a baronet." " Still, I say no." " Lai'ge estates — fine house— capital stables." "No — no — no.** As the last negative was pronounced, Montfichet, the three suitors, Juddock and Bush, entered the room. " Glad to see you, gentlemen," the Squire cried, ad- vancing to meet them. "You could not have visited rae more fortunately. At all times you are welcome — now you are doubly so. Would I could have all my friends round me to rejoice with me on this happy occasion. Koper no doubt has explained to you what 220 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, has occurred, so I have only to present you to m^ Daughters." Such congratulations followed this address — such shaking of hands — such a general manifestation of delight and good-will on all sides — that the like was never seen. Transported with joy, the Squire slappeJ Bush on the shoulder, crying — "This is the parson who married me. He will tell you all about it." "That I will, sir," the Reverend Jeremy replIend Peggy were 240 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, called forth ; and presently from the back of the wag* gon emerged a most extraordinary personage, whose like had never before been seen at Dunmow. His ap- pearance fiiUy justified Ben's description. Everybody rose from their seat to gaze at him. Nelly was struck with admiration ; and Jonas looked quite dumb-founded. A Turk of gigantic proportions — ^yes, a Turk ! How he came to be in the Chelmsford waggon Nelly could not conceive — but there was no doubt as to the fact. A Turk he was, if ever there was one, as was shown by his loose white trousers, his embroidered sandals, the sash round his waist, in which a silver-sheathed ataghan was stuck, the short crimson jacket edged with gold, the curled scimetar at his side, and the enonnous many-folded turban on his head, with the crescent in front of it. A Turk beyond all question, and a prodi- giously handsome Turk, too, Nelly thought, with his long, shining black beard, and his flashing black eyes, full of Oriental roguery. Carroty Dick ventured to inquire for the Turkish gentleman's luggage. A large, shabby-looking port- manteau was brought out, together with a long cherry- stick pipe, and a pouch filled with tobacco. The port- manteau was earned ofl" by Dick, but the pipe and the pouch were delivered by Peggy to the Turk, who received them from her hands with something so like a wink, that it called a blush to the cheeks of the ingenuous chambermaid. " Does the Turkish gentleman speak English V Jonas inquired of the waggoner. " Ay, ay, sir," Ben replied, still grinning. " He can make hissel pratty well understood." " Then I'll address him," Jonas said. And making a very low bow to the stranger, he respectfully begged to know his pleasure. "Salam aleikoum !" the Turk said, returning the salutation in truly Eastern style. " Aleikoum salam ! My pleasure, worthv host, is to rest for the night THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 241 within your caravanserai. Let the man who hath brought me hither be paid." "The waggoner," Nelly interposed, curtseying — " oh yes, sir. How much, sir f " Give the dog a sequin," the Turk said. " Ah ! by Allah ! I forget. The fair Frank knows not the coin. Give him a piece of silver. Thy father shall be repaid." "My father!" Nelly exclaimed. "If you mean Jonas, sir, — ^he's my husband." "Bismillah! — can it be?" the Turk cried. "The aged infidel is unworthy of such a treasure. You deserve a place in the Sultan's seraglio — ^by the beard of the Prophet, you ought to be a Sultana !" " By the nmrry-maskins ! I must put a stop to this," Jonas thought ; " I cannot permit him to call me an aged infidel, or to tell my wife she ought to be a sul- tana." The landlord's misgivings were almost confirmed, his perceptions being quickened by jealousy. " Allow me to ask your name and title, sir ?" he added. "You may call me Amurath," the Turk replied. " I am Ex-Aga of the Janissaries, and recently of the Court of his Sublime Majesty the Sultan Mahomet the Fifth." "Oh, gracious! did you hear that, Jonas? Amurath, Ex-Aga of the Janny — Janny — what-d'ye-call-ums. What a grand title!" " Too grand by half I'm not to be taken in by it," Jonas replied. " I've found him out. Why, you silly thing, don't you perceive it's Captain Juddock?" " Well, I declare you're right, now I look at hira again," Nelly said. " But the Turkish dress and the beard deceived me." *' I'm not to be so easily taken in," Jonas rejoined. " What the devil can have brought him back, I won- der?" he added to himself. "Ho! ho! ho! — so you recognise me, eh ! my worthy tost?" the giant roared " I didn't mean to discover tuyself to you, or your pretty wife, till I had enjoyed 242 THE FLITCH OP BACON. a hearty laugli at your joint expense. But by Allah ! I swear I have told you the fact. I am no longer Juddock — but Amurath. I am a Mussulman — one of the faitliful." " Then you really are a Turk !" Nelly exclaimed. "Really and truly, my dear Mrs. N.," the gianfc replied. " I had some slight scruples at first ; but they were overcome, because considerable advantages were to be derived from a change of creed. Amongst theso was the privilege of marrying six wives." " Six wives 1" Nelly ejaculated. " How shocking". But surely, you never availed yourself of that wicked privilege T " Didn't I, though. I left six lawful spouses behind me, together with a dozen Georgian, Nubian, and Cir- cassian slaves, composing my hareemj in my hasty flight from Constantinople." " Oh ! the base renegade !" Jonas muttered. " Would that his wives had followed him ! They might have kept him quiet." " But do tell us what took you there?" Nelly said. " Do me the favour to fill my pipe, my dear Mrs. K. , and then I will," the giant replied, handing her the tobacco-pouch, and squeezing her fingers at the same time. " Come and sit beside me," he added, taking up a position on the circular bench, with his legs crossed under him, and inhaling a few whifi*s from the pipe. " Sit nearer to me, I pray of you. An Osmanli is always respectful. To begin. After that agreeable and event- ful night at Monkbury Place, when I had last the pleasure of seeing you, 1 repaired next day to Harwich, and finding my friend Captain Culverin of the Hurlo- thrumho about to sail for Constantinople, I embarked with him, and duly arrived at the Turkish capital. War, as you know, had just broken out between the Sultan and Elizabeth Petrowna, Empress of Russia. Detesting the latter aggressive and barbarous power, and sympathising with the respectable Ottoman, I entered the service of Mahomet the Fifth, and fought THE CUSTOM OP DUKMOW. 243 under the banner of the Crescent against the Kussians. Need I say I served with distinction ? The Czarina, in her thinned hordes, has reason to remember me. Returning to Constantinople, after a brief but brilliant campaign, I was received ^vith great distinction by the Sultan, and speedily rose to high dignities. From a Bey I became a Pasha, and his Sublime Highness offered to make me Aga of the Janissaries. But to this end, it was needful I should embrace the MaJiometan faith. I had objections, — but they were overcome, ai 1 I was appointed leader of the Sultan's body-guar L A beautiful villa was bestowed upon me on the banks of the Bosphorus, where I enjoyed the society of my six wives, and my numerous lovely slaves — and there I might be still — but for an unlooked-for and unfortu- nate event." "What was iti" Nelly inquired. " I must take a few whiffs before I can proceed," Amurath replied. " I must cut this part of my story as short as I can. It affects me too deeply. In an evil hour, the Sultan's chief favourite, Budoor, cast eyes of affection upon me. Her charms proving irre- sistible, a meeting took place between us. Had it ended there, all had been well. But no — ^we met again — and by treachery were surprised. Little mercy was shown us — or rather little mercy was shown poor Budoor. She sleeps beneath the waves of the Bosphorus — I escaped the bowstring by flight." " If I had been the Sultan, you shouldn't have escaped me," Jonas said. " I'd have given you the sack, as well as Budoor. Poor thing, I pity Jier. And so you came back with your friend, Captain Culverin, I suppose?' " You've hit it exactly. I did," the giant answered. ** I got on board the Hurlothrwniho just as the captain nras weighing anchor, and after a quick passage to England was put ashore last night at Southend, whence [ found my way to Chelmsford — and here T am." Whatever credit the party round the table might 244 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, attach to the giant's story, it served to amuse them very much, and on its conclusion, Parson Bush proposed the health of the Ex-Aga of the Janissaries, which was drunk with cheers and laughter. Aniurath now called for a bottle of cider, and, while the order was being complied with by Tom Tapster, he volunteered a song in return for the compliment paid him — addressing himself chiefly to Jonas. Cider good of Devonshire— That just now is my desire. Let the blockheads laugh, who wiil. Quick, mine host, the flagon fill With the admirable juice, "Which the apple-vats produce. Better 'tis, I will maintain, Than the stuff you call champagne. Thirst I feel — and my desire Is the drink of Devonshire. Cider fine ! thou hast the merit. With thy lightness and thy spirit. Not to mystify the braiu ! You may fill, and fill again. Quaff as much as you require Of the drink of Devonshire. 2L *Tis the property of cider — Ne'er to make a breach the wider. With your friend you would not (juarrfil Were jou to consume a barrel. Idle bickeriog and fooling Dwell not in this liquor cooling. Generous thoughts alone inspire Draughts of dulcet Devonshire^ THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 24d Cider sparkling, cider placid. False it is to call it acid. To the light you hold tlie cup. How the atoms bright leap up ! How the liquid foams and bubbles. Ready to dispel your troubles ! How its fragrancy invites ! How its flavour fine delights. As the lip and throat it bites ! Pour it down ! you'U never tire Of delicious Devonshire ! Just as the song was concluded, Tom Tapster ap- peared, and the cider being poured out, the foaming pot was emptied by the giant at a draught. Meanwhile, Tom Tapster took the opportunity of laying to his master : " Ben the Waggoner would like to have a word with you, sir, before he goes — about the Turkish gentleman, I believe, sir." " Oh indeed P Jonas exclaimed. " Til come to him directly. Give him a jug of ale, Tom, and bid him sit down for a few minutes, and make himself comfortable. I wonder what he has got to tell me," he mused, as the drawer departed. Though delivered in an under tone, this communica. tion did not escape the ears of Parson Bush, between whom and the Ex-Aga some sort of understanding seemed to subsist, to judge from the glances they now and then exchanged. " Ajid now, my worthy host, that I have acquainted you with my adventures, it is but fair you should let me know what has befallen you during my absence," Amurath said. " I presume I may congratulate you upon having obtained the object of your desires. The Flitch has long since been won — and eaten — not a rasher left— «h V " Not exactly won, captain," Jonas stammered out. " Not won ! — Then your claim was refused by the 246 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, Court Baron — lia ! ha ! — By Allah ! I thought it would be so." *• xs'ot so fast, captain. No Court Baron has been held since you were here. The Court sits to-morrow, and then my claim will be allowed. Is not that your opinion, my good friends?" Jonas said, appealing to nis guests. " Don't you think the decision will be in my favour ?" "No doubt of it," several voices cried. *• You're sure of the prize." " Yes, I flatter myself I am," Jonas remarked. "But the captain looks incredulous." "Captain not me," the Ex-Aga cried. "Pm a captain of captains. Bismillah ! I rank with the Commander-General of the Forces. Now listen to me, Jonas. You're confident of winning. Good. I'll take ten to one you don't." " I wont bet," Jonas replied. " Nor can I advise any one else to bet with you, because I question your capability of payment. All your money is in the Turkish loan, and that doesn't stand well in the market just now — ha ! ha ! Besides, there's an old-standing bet between us — 10,000/. to fifty — that must be settled first." " By the beard of the Prophet ! so there is," the Ex-Aga cried. " I now recollect the wager perfectly. Other matters had put it out of my head. You were to pay me a guinea a week till the claim was made. Let me see — that's twenty-five weeks. I'll trouble you Tor twenty-five guineas, Mr. Jonas." •'We'll talk about that to-morrow," the landlord replied, rather uneasily; "on my return from the Court Baron. Fill your glasses, gentlemen — bumpers, 1 beg of you. Ladies, permit me to assist you. Don't stint it. More punch can be brewed when this is done. Lend me your ears, and I'll give you a song which I composed, when Nelly and I had completed the term of probation required by our custom of Dunmow. I I ^^^"^ '^'' 1^^^^^^^ -^^:>- A YEAR AND A DAY. (JONAS AND NELLY NETTLEBED.) P. 247. THE CUSTOM OP DtWMOW, O^J 21 gear anti a ©ag. I. A Yeah and a Day is the period named "VMien, according to Custom, the Flitch may be claiuift^ ,• - Provided the parties can swear and can prove. They have lived the whole time iu true conjugal love. n. 'Tis a very old Custom of ours at Dunmow, — Fitzwalter established it ages ago. Its antiquity, sure, can be doubted by no man, Since 'tis me:itioned by Chaucer, and trusty Piers Plowiw.r* III. That it is a good Custom, as well as an old, — Our Custom of Dunmow — you needn't be told^ A prize matrimonial — claim it we may — Nell and I have been married a Year and a Day. IV. With all the conditions we've duly complied — And our love and fidelity well have been tried : Kneeling down at the Church-door, we dare to confess That not, e'en in thought, did we ever transgress. No woman, save Nell, has attractions for me : And as I feel, I needn't assure you, feels she : No man in the world, be he ever so big. Can say NeUy cares for his nonsense a fig. VT. Vm a pattern to husbands, as she is to wives— We teach all transCTCssors to alter their lives. We show how mucli better it is to be true. Than each other neglect, as some married folks d(X VII. In short, we're as happy as couple can be, — No lon^ curtain lectures sweet Nell reads to me; By no silly squabbles we're ever put out. Nor do I ever scold, nor does she ever pout. U 248 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, vm. As to wishing that we were unmarried 't^iu,— A notion so stupid ne'er enter'd our brain : — For rather, — ^we give you our honour, — we woulf' Be married twice over again, if we could ! IX. Three times did I marry the Flitch to obtain— Three times unsuccessful — ^the fourth time I gain : Blest with Nelly, sweet Nellv, they can't say me nav,— We've not had a wrong word for a Year *»"'! a Day r "Well sung, Jonas — excellent welir the Ex-Aga cried, approvingly. " I caught your playful allusion to me, you rogue — ' The man be he ever so big' — ha ! ha ! Very fair — ^very fair ! You'll hear what the big man has to say, if he should be called as a witness to-morrow." **He never must be called," Jonas muttered in a sombre tone. " Would he were at the bottom of the Black Sea !" "My pipe's out,'^ the Ex-Aga cried. "My dear Mrs. N., you shall have the office of my favourite Circassian slave — fill, and light for me." " By the marry-maskins ! she shall do nothing of the kind," Jonas cried. "Of course not without your permission, ducky," Nelly said. " But you wouldn't like me to appear ungracious." " Of course he wouldn't," the Ex-A ga said. " Oh, very well — very well — -just as you please, my dear," the landlord said, swallowing his displeasure. So the pipe was re-filled by Nelly, and the match applied to it by her. "Now place the amber mouthpiece to your lips," the Ex-Aga said to Nelly, " and draw a few whiffs. My fair Circassian always did so." Nelly was about to comply, but Jonas snatched tho ;>ipe from her. THE CUSTOM OF DUNJIOW. 249 " Whatever your fair Circassian may have done, sir," he cried to Amurath, " and I dare say she did a great many things she ought not to have done, my Nelly shall never follow her pernicious example. She shall never smoke. I'm sure you'll say I'm right, ducky?" " Quite right — as you always are, ducky," she replied, not looking over-pleased, though. " I knew you'd say so. You see, my friends, what a treasure I've got. She yields in an instant. No exertion of authority is requii'ed. The simple expres- sion of a wish on my part is sufficient for her." " Landlord, I'll try a glass of your punch," Amurath said — " and at the same time I'll thank you to return my pipe." " I thought you preferred cider,'* Jonas remarked, as he complied with the Ex-Aga's request. " By the beard of the Prophet ! I like all liquors," the other returned, smacking his lips over the punch. " In Turkey I used to drink Sherbet, Boza, and arrack — and in Russia, Bostandschi Oglu, and Kissly- schtxhy." " Dear me ! what a nice drink that must be !'* Nelly exclaimed. "Kissylipsy — did you call it?" " Kisslyschtxhy," the Ex-Aga repeated. " It is delicious, especially when drunk with a pretty Musco- vite maiden. Shall I warble you the tender strain which I sang to the beautiful but hapless Budoor, as she accompanied me on her kitar ?" Nelly seemed disposed to say "yes;" but glancing at Jonas, and reading a decided negative in his looks, she was obliged to decline the offer. "Give us a Bacchanalian ditty," Jonas cried. '* That's more in your way than a love-song," " Well — anything to oblige you," Amurath replied. " I'll give you a snatch, written by way of epitaph, upon old Temperance Closefist, the miser and water- drinker. His fate will never be yours, I'm sure, Mr. Jonas — nor mipe. Make ready, musicians." 250 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OB, CTfje ©Iti raater*Brmfeer*3 (Srabe, A STINGY curmudgeon lies under the stone. Who ne'er had the heart to get mellow ;— A base water-drinker ! — I'm glad he is gone. We're well rid of the frowsy old fellow. II. You sec how the nettles environ his grave ! Weeds only cculd spring from hisDody. While his heirs spend the money he fasted to save, In wine and in women — tlie noddy ! Politeness detained Jonas during this song, but afc its close he would have made off to Ben the Waggoner, if the Ex-Aga had not laid his heavy hand upon him, and compelled him to sit down. "I want to hear something about my friends," the giant said. " How are the Fitzwalters? — the young couple — Frank Woodbine and Kose, as we used to call them. How are they going on, eh ?" " Remarkably well, 1 believe," Jonas replied. "They are living with the Squire at Monkbury Place for the present," Nelly added, "and will remain there till Clavering Castle is finished. Sir Walter has bought it for them, and is fitting it up magnificently." " Is Sir Walter at Monkbury Place?" Amurath in- quired, glancing at Parson Bush. " He has been there for the last five months," the reverend gentleman answered — " and Lady Fitzwalter, too — so much improved you'd scarcely know him — and the old lady has got back some of her good looks. A fine woman still, in spite of all she has gone through. Old Mrs. LesKe has likewise come to live with the Squire — and is as happy as need be with her grand- children. Her daughter, you may remember, was pri- vately married to the Squire. As to Sir Walter and Lady Fitzwalter, they quite dote upon the young couple —Mr. Alured and his wife, I mean — and are alwaj/s THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 251 with them. Of course, they're to live at Clavering Castle when the place is ready for theiiij but mean- while they seem quite content at Monkbury." " No wonder," Amurath replied. " Quarters no one would object to. I thought young Fitzwalter and his wife were candidates for the Flitch ?" " So they are," Parson Bush replied. " But Jonas and Nelly stand first on the list, and the piize can only be bestowed once in the year. Mr. Boper has care- fully examined the Charter, and finds this is an express condition." " So you see they'll have to wait till to-morrow twelvemonth, Mr. Amurath," Jonas observed. "You think so?'* the giant replied. " Pray, is there any such custom as ours of Dunmow in the Eastl'* Nelly asked. "Do Turks ever claim the Flitchr' " We good Mussulmans abominate the unclean animal," Amurath said ; " and consequently bacon is interdicted. As to a prize for constancy, that would be scarcely possible where polygamy prevails." " All Turks, I suppose, wear beards like yours T Nelly said, innocently. " All — without exception,** the Ex- Aga replied. " I should be glad to introduce the fashion in England. A beard would be a great improvement to Jonas." " Perhaps it would," she said. " But he looks very nice as he is." " Mark that, Mr. Amurath?'* the little landlord cried, delighted. " Never mind her flummery, Jonas, but make a move- ment in favour of the beard. Attend to me." And thf? giant once more broke into song. Srjje BallatJ of tfje Bearli. I. In masculine beauty, or else I am wroncr. Perfection consists in a heard that is long; Bv man it is cherished, by woman reveredl— Hence every good fellow is known by his beard. 252 THE FLITCU OF BACON: OR, II. Barbarossa, and Blackbeard, and Bluebeard, we know, Let the hair on their chins ra?st abundantly grow : So did Erancis the First, and :,ur Harry the blutf. And the great Bajazet had beard more than enough. Now the faces of those bearded worthies compare With the faces of others divested of hair ; And you'll very soon see — if you've got any eyes — On which side the superiority lies. IV. Then take to the Beard, and have done with the razor ! Don't disfigure yourself anv longer, I pray, sir ! Wear a Beard. You will find it becoming and pleasant. And your wife wUl admire you much more than at present V. Of cuts we've the Spanish, Italian, and Dutch, The old and the new, and the common o'ermuch ; You may have your beard trimm'd any way that you plea?e, Curled, twisted, or stuck out like chevaux-de-frise. VI. You may wear, if you choose, a beard pick-a-devant, A beard like a hammer, or jagg'd like a saw, — A beard called " cathedral," and shaped like a tile. Which the widow in Hudibras served to beguile. vn. A beard like a dagger — nay, don't be afraid,— A beard like a bodkin, a beard like a spade ; A. beard like a sugar-loaf, beard like a fork, A beard like a Hebrew, a beard like a Turk. VIII. Any one of these beards may be yours if you list- According to fancy you trim it or twist. As to colour, that matters, I ween, not a pin — But a bushy black beard is the surest to win. THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 253 IX. So take to the Beaed, and abandon the razor ! Have done with all soaping and shaving, I say, sir ! By a scrub of a barber oe never more sheared, sir ; But adorn cheek and chin with a handsome long beard, &ir ! Everybody laughed very heartily .'"»t this song, and Jonas among the rest. But his glee vv^u^; checked, as he bethought him of Ben the Waggoner-, \/ho appeared to oe on the move. He started up to fly to him, but was again forced down by the giant. " Sit still, landlord, sit still, till you have answered one other question. How goes on my friend, Sir G.deM.r " If you mean Sir Gilbert do Montfichet by those initials, Mr. Amurath, I beg to say he is going on ex- tremely well. Quite a reformed character — no longer drinks — no longer games — no longer rakes — but keeps good company — and has entirely abandoned his worth- less associates." "Ho! ho! ho!" Amurath laughed. "Is he mar- ried T " No, sir, he is not married ; but the probability is that he very speedily will be so. The consummation of his wishes depends upon thb _'?5,lization of mine." " Landlord, you speak in riddles." " My husband means, that Miss Monkbury, to whom Sir Gilbert has been paying his addresses, and with whom he is understood to be passionately in love," Nelly said, " has declared that she will never marry any man till the Flitch has been won. So to-morrow the young baronet may possibly gain hsr consent, if we are successfuL" " She has three other suitors who are likewise await- ing the issue of the claim," Parson Bush remarked, with a laugh. " Ginib, Chip, and Clot — I remember them," Amurath replied. "Another glass of punch, and another song, landloril" 254 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, " Bless us ! the bowl's empty — I didn't observe it. More shall be brewed directly," Jonas cried, breaking from the giant's grasp, and hastening to the waggoner, who was just about to start. " Well, Ben, what have you to tell me about himr he asked. " Look at this, mester," Ben replied, putting a play- bill, adorned with a large woodcut, into his hands. " Yes — yes — I see — but vrhat has this got to do with him r " A vast deal," Ben replied. " You see the pictur a-top — the Turkish giant. Read the bill — read it aloud." "I will— I will," Jonas replied. "SHEEPSHANKS AND SWINEY'S BOOTH — Near the Bridge, Chelmsford. Extraordinary and Unprecedented Attraction— THE FALL OF BAJAZET. The PART OP BaJAZET by AmURATH, THE CELEBRATED Turkish Giant. That's he ! that's he !" '* Ay, that be he, sure enough," Ben said. " I seed he were a-gammonin' of you — so T thought I'd let you know the truth. But he be absent without leave." " What do you mean, Ben?" " I means what I says. He ought to act to-night at Chelmsford, according to that there playbill. He's under an engagement to Sheepshanks and Swiney, and has forfeited fifty pounds by taking hissel off in this way. Swiney told me so, hissel. Swiney said he'd arrest him at once, if he could find him — ^but he were stowed away in the waggon, and Swiney never thought of looking for him there." "Why didn't you give him up?" Jonas cried. " I didn't like," the waggoner replied. (The rogue didn't say anything about the guinea he had received for aiding the giant's escape.) " But if ^ou want to get rid of him, crly let Swiney know, and he'll take him ofi* your hands pretty quickly." " I'll do it— I'll do it," Jonas cried. " I'll send a man and horse over +o Ohelmsforri I'll give IsaacsoD THE CUSTOM OF DUJN'MOW. 255 aiid I^tcliam a hint. He shall be nabbed, Ben — nabbed before he knows what he's about. I don't think he will appear as a witness against me at tho Court Baron — ha ! ha ! There'll be a feast here on the day after to-morrow, Ben, and I shall be glad of your company to eat a rasher from the Flitch — the Duumow Flitch, Ben — d'ye understand 1" " Thankee, mester, I'll be one of the party wi' plea- siu-e," the waggoner replied, cracking his whip, and making a staii;. Wliile this wa.*: passing. Parson Bush got up and took a place on the circular bench by the side of the Ex-Aga. " Sir Gilbert depends upon your appearance at the Court Baron at noon to-morrow T' he said, in a low tone. "You're sure I may do so with safety f the other re- joined. "Nothing to apprehend from Sir Walter — eh V "Nothing whatever. Sir Gilbert will bear you harmless from all consequences. But take care Jonas doesn't manage to entrap you. The sly little fellow is talking, as you see, with Ben the Waggoner, and will learn from him how you are circumstanced. Sheep- shanks and SNviney may receive information of your retreat, and pounce upon you. Once within the Court House, you are safe." " Never fear. Leave J. J. — ^Amurath, I mean — to take care of himself. Count upon seeing me." Satisfied with this assui-ance, Parson Bush returned to the table, and Jonas having given some private in- structions to Carroty Dick, came back rubbing his hands, and looking quite happy and unconcerned. Smiling upon his apparently unsus^pecting victim, he profiered him a glass of punch liom a fresh bowl brought by Tom Tapster, which the otl^.er graciously accepted. Another song was now called for, but as no one I'e- sponded, Jonas thought a dance might be agreeable to the Bachelors and Maidens; and as they were quite oi his opinion, word was given to the musicians, who 256 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, instantly struclv up a rigadoon, and very soon all tho younger part of the company were footing it merrily on the sward. For a while Amuratli preserved his grave deportment, and continued to puff away solemnly at his pipe; it being unbecoming the dignity of a Turk to take part in such a boisterous pastime. But at length the fun and frolic rose to such a pitch, that, unable to resist the attraction, he sprang to his feet, and offering his hand to Nelly, before Jonas could interpose, whisked her off into the mazy ring. Wonderful was it to see the giant capering about in his flowing Turkish attire — wonderful was the agility he displayed — and at the end of the rigadoon, he had to take off his enormous turban and mop his close-shaven pate. After the dance, more punch was consumed, and then the company dispersed, — the bailiff, the two burgesses, and Simon Appleyard, shaking hands with J^as, and congratulating him beforehand on the anti- cipated event of the morrow. A word at parting was like^i'ise exchanged between Parson Bush and the Ex- Aga — and then the latter withdrew to the house, and was shown by Peggy to the apartment wherein he was to pass the night. Arrived there, his first business was to throw open the window, as he said he could not sleep without plenty of air. Jonas tarried for a brief space outside, after the departure of his guests, and during that time a mounted messenger was despatched with secret instractions to Chelmsford — and information was given to Isaacson and Latcham to hold themselves in readiness for a summons. This done, the landlord retired to rest, and slept soundly till towards morning, when he had a strange dream, in which he fancied his three departed wives appeared to him, and told him he would never Avin the Flitch. In his efforts to reply to them, he awoke, and found Nelly awake too, and laughing at him. She said he must have had a dreadful attack of nightmare, ua he had roared out most lustily. THE CUSTOM OP DUNJIOW. 257 Jonas was rather troubled by his dream, and feared it boded him no good. However, he said nothing about it to Nelly, as he thought there was no use in making her uneasy. Besides, he didn't like talking to her about his former spouses. So he went to sleep again, and lo ! he had another dream. This time he thought he had gained the Flitch, bat was robbed of it by the giant, who devoured it before his eyes. II. HOW JONAS AND NELLY SET OUT TO CLAIM THE PLITCU. On rising, the landlord's first inquiries were as to the Turkish gentleman. He was not astir yet. So far good. Had the messenger returned from Chelms- ford 1 No. That was provoking. Still, it was early, and the giant was safe in his room. About nine o'clock, the two bailiffs came to see whether their services would be required, and Jonas, after some consideration, determined to take upon him- self the responsibility of detaining Juddock a prisoner till the arrival of Messrs. Sheepshanks and Swiney — or at all events till the great business at the Court Baron was settled. Accordingly he sent the two functionaries of the law up-stairs, and Peggy attended them to the door of the giant's chamber, against which Isaacson rapped authoritatively with his truncheon. No answer being returned, the summons was repeated — and then the door was tried, and found to be locked. After a little debate, Jonas was sent for, and by his order the door was instantly burst open. The bird was flown, having escaped, it was evident, through the open window. Juddock had discarded his Turkish habiliments, which weie scattered about the room, and had gone off in some other clothes taken from the portmanteau, as that was empty. 258 THE FLITCH OF BACON I OR, Nelly, of course, had come up-stairs with her husband, and her attention was called by Peggy to something very like a horse's tail lying on the dressing-table near the Ex-Aga's enormous turban. A suspicion of the truth instantly flashed upon the landlady, and rushing up to the table, she found her surmise correct. A false beard. How shocking! After all he had said and sung about beai'ds, too. Jonas was greatly dismayed. His plans were baffled, and the worst was to be apprehended. He consulted with the two baiiills, and wanted them to go in quest of the fugitive. It would be of no use, they said. They couldn't detain him. They must wait for Sheep- shanks and Swiney and the writ. Then, and not till then, could they act. So Jonas was obliged to be content, and hope for the best. He had a good deal to do, and that helped to dispel his anxiety. Besides a great many directions to give, he had to dress with unusual care ; and by the time he had spent nearly an hour in decorating his person, his breast once more beat high with confidence. The last touches given, what a smart little fellow appeared in the glass. How well his pea-green coat, made for the occasion, became him ! The tailor had done him justice. His flowered, white satin waistcoat was beau- tiful, and everybody must admire his amber shorts and his salmon-coloured silk hose, and the shapely limbs they defined so perfectly. Not unadmiringly was he glancing at himself over the shoulder, to see how well the pea-green coat fitted behind, — and how nicely the double queue of his well-powdered periwig dangled down, — ^^vhen he caught the reflexion of a very pretty face in the mirror, and was delighted to find that his wife's toilette was as satisfactorily completed as his own. Nelly looked quite charming in her pretty fly-cap, with her fair hair drawn back beneath it, arranged in tight little curls at the sides, and gathered in a club «t the back ; her cherry-coloured silk stomacher, laced across : her hooped petticoat ; and her tiny niuslij THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 259 apron. Nor were her feet entirely concealed from view — as why should they be? Had she not got a j^r of red morocco hi^u-heeled shoes, of the last fashion, from town ? They must be seen, — if feet and ankles, which had not their match in Dunmow, went for nothing. "Well, my love, I declare I never saw you look better 1" Jonas exclaimed, rapturously. " And I don't think I ever saw you look so well, ducky," she rejoined. " That pea-green coat fits with- out a crease, and those amber shorts are perfection. But you haven't tied your cravat quite tight enough. I'll do it for you. There, that's better." " Take care — you'll choke me," Jonas cried, getting very red in the face. " Now, for the nosegay in your breast," Nelly con- tinued, fixing a bouquet as large as a sunflower in his second button-hole. And then making him turn about so as to face the chambermaid, she cried — " What do you think of your master, Peggy 1" " I think he's the properest man in Dunmow, mem, — as you are the prettiest lady," the chambermaid replied. "By the marry-maskins, Peggy, you're a good judge," Jonas cried. " I'll raise your wages. You're very nicely dressed yourself, Peggy — and look very well — ex- tremely well, Peggy." " Don't praise me too much, sir," the chambermaid whispered. " You'll make missis jealous — and that'll spoil all." *•' A discreet wench i' faith," Jonas rejoined. " Don't f<:)rget what you've to say in Court, Peggy. And take ciire of Dick." " You needn't be afraid of me, sir," Peggy replied. " And as to Dick, I've let him know that his chance of my hand depends upon his conduct to-day. So you're quite safe with him." " That's right, Peggy — that's right. Oddsbodikins ! if it isn't eleven o'clock ! — and the messenger not yet returned fiom Chelmsford." 260 THE FLITCH OF BACON : OR, " Oh ! never mind the messenger," Nelly cried. " We can't wait for him. I want to show myself." " And so do I," Jonas rejoined. " No, we wont wait any longer." '* You'll have pltrty of people to see you, I can promise you," Peggy remarked. " All Great Dimmow is out ; and Little Dunmow, they tell me, is just like a fair. Crowds have been flocking there from all parts of the country since six o'clock in the morning." " No, have they ?" Jonas cried, delighted. " They're quite right to be in time. Oh ! it'll be a grand sight — a wonderful sight !" And he began to caper about the room with delight. " Will Crane told me last night," Peggy pui*sued, •* that the Squire has invited all his friends. Half the gentry in the county are expected." " Half the gentry ! By the marry-maskins ! they do us too much honour — really, they do," Jonas said. " However, it's very flattering — ^very gratifying — and we're quite sensible of the distinction shown us — aiiit we, Nelly r " All the Squire's tenantry are of course invited," Peggy went on — "wives, daughters, and sons; sons' wives, and sons' daughters — everybody, in short. After the ceremony at Little Dunmow, there's to be the grandest merry-making ever known in ISIonkburj Place, to which all comers will be welcome. Nobodj will be refused. Will Crane said there would be music, dancing, countiy-sports, and all sorts of pastimes. Pre- parations have been made for the feast for the last week ; and Will says it'll surpass anything ever seen \n these parts." " How very kind in the Squire to take all this trouble for us, and go to such an expense," Jonas remarked. " No doubt he meant this entertainment as an agreeable surprise to us, my love, and took care we should hear nothing about it. I always said the worthy gentleman was like a father to you, Nelly — and treated you exactly as ii* you were a daughter of his own." THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 261 " Don't talk nonsense, sir," Nelly cried. " Perhaps these preparations mayn't be for us, after all. The Squire may expect young Fitzwalter and his wife to win. It looks very like it, I must say." " They win ! Pooh ! pooh ! I've no fear, unless that confounded giant should turn up." " Oh ! Pm not in the least afraid of him," Nelly cried. " You're not ! then I'm quite easy. Let's be off ! Stay, we must take care nothing is forgotten. Tom Tapster and the cook are away to the Court House — eh, Peggy r " They started nearly an hour ago, sir, and must be there by this time." " Good And the bailiffs are below awaiting the arrival of Sheepshanks and Swiney T " They're outside the house, sir — smoking their pipes, and drinking the jug of ale you ordered 'em. They wont leave the spot, they say, till the man comes back from Chelmsford." " Very good, Peggy. — What splendid weather, my dear. Was there ever such a glorious day seen ?" " It's much too warm, I think," Nelly rejoined. " We shall be broiled before we get there. Fetch me my large green fan, Peggy." " Here 'tis, mem, and your smelling-bottle, and your handkerchief, and your nosegay." " Are you quite ready, my love ?" " Quite ready, Mr. Nettlebed." " Then we'll be off at once. Is the cart at the door, Peggy?" " The cart, Jonas !" Nelly exclaimed, with a scream. " Haven't you ordered a postchaise f " N — no, my love, I thought a cart preferable." " Then you thought v/rong, sir. I've a good mind not to go. Get a chaise directly." " Impossible, my love — there isn't time. We should be too late. If we were a minute after twelv^e o'clock, mir ciaim would be set aside, and that of young Fita- I 262 THE FLITCH OP BACON*. OB, waiter and his wife preferred. You'll find it a vei-v nice cart — with a very easy seat — plenty of room f(»r two — and Dick will drive you most carefully, wont ho, l^eggyr " And you'll be much better seen than in the po'chay, mem — think of that," the chambermaid insinuated. The last argument prevailed, and Nelly yielded, though with rather a bad grace. But ail her sullenness disappeared the instant she went forth, and nothing but smiles irradiated her countenance, as she saluted the two bailiffs, who were seated at a table under the great elm-tree, drinking and smoking. She also acknow- ledged very graciously the cheers of the lads and lasses collected to witness their departure. Jonas handed her into the cart, gave her her fan, handkerchief, and nosegay, and then, having placed Peggy in a back seat, got up himself with some difficulty. This done. Car- roty Dick, who was seated in front, and who was as smart as Sunday clothes and a bunch of cabbage-roses in his breast could make him, touched his horse with the whip, and the vehicle was set in motion. Then arose acclaims from the two bailiffs, who waved their hats, and wished them success. The vociferations of the myrmidons of the law were echoed by the youthful throng, as well as by some venturesome urchins who had clambered up the old elm-tree — and it was regarded by Isaacson as a bad omen, that one of them who had planted his feet upon the famous sign- board of the Flitch, contrived to knock it down. Luckily, however, Jonas was not aware of the disaster. The cart moved slowly along, for neither husband nor wife desired to proceed too quickly — and a large and constantly-increasing concourse accompanied it in its progress through the main street of the town — shouting and huzzaing the whole way. The day was magnificent — a little too hot, perhaps, but the brilliant sunshine added to the general effect Xelly could not have got on without the large green fan, and shielded her pretty face with it. All Dunmow THE CUSTOM OB DL'NJIOW. 263 wss astir. People were at the doors and windows, looking on, waving handkerchiefs, and swelling the clamour with their cries. Jonas was almost beside himself witli delight. Every now and then he stood up in the cart, and bowed to an acquaintance at a window, or in the street, and Nelly began to be so much employed in kissing hands right and left, that the fan and nosegay had to be laid down. The pretty landlady was greatly admired, and Jonas was envied by most of the male beholdere. We cannot say that Nelly's lot was coveted in the same degree by any of her own sex. Peggy came in for her share of admiration ; and Carroty Dick's breast was torn with •ealous pangs as he heard his mistress chatting and laughing rather familiarly with a pack of impudent fellows who marched by her side. He longed to cut at them with the whip, and would have diiven off, if he had dared. In this way they reached the centre of the town, and when near the old cross, they were joined by another long cart, covered over with green boughs instead of a canvas tilt, and drawn by four horses. It contained the Bachelors and Maidens, who were waiting to accompany them to the Court House. Here, also, they were joined by the musicians — so that henceforward their progress took the character of ^ procession. Now the shouts were redoubled, and strains of music were added to the din. The greater the uproar, the better Jonas was pleased. Nor did it subside whei£ they got out of the town. The Court House was two miles off, but the distance did not deter hundreds from marching thither. Thus they went on — ^the Bachelors and Maidens taking the lead, and Jonas iind his wife following after ; the crowd huzzaing, and the band playing until they came within a bow-shot of the Court House, when they were brought to a halt by \ signal from Timothy Tipcat, the beadle, who, Btaii in hand, and in full official costume, was stationeJ at the door. g iJC-i TUE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, IIL sow AUOTHFR C0T7PLE WENT TO MAKE THE CLAIM. The stoppage gave Jonas and Nelly an opportunity of looking about them. This is what they beheld. Drawn up at the side of the road, all the way to the old Priory Church, which was nearly a quarter of a mile off, were carts and other vehicles filled, for the most part, with fresh-looking country lasses, dressed in their best, and, generally speaking, with ribands in their caps and upon their stomachers as blooming as their cheeks. Such a number of pretty girls had never been seen in Dunmow before — nor, up to this moment, had Jonas imagined that the whole county of Essex boasted so many. However, all the women were not young; some were middle-aged, respectable matrons, not entirely destitute of good looks, taking care of their daughters ; and a few — the grandmothers of the damsels — were well stricken with years. But, old or young, they all appeared happy and merry ; and as the rosy-cheeked Phillises had plenty of Corydons by the side of their carts, no wonder they enjoyed themselves — while mothers and grandmothers, mindful of the days of their j^outh, smiled complacently at what was going on. It was only among the oldest of the assemblage that any could be found who had been present on a similar occasion ; and old dames with nodding heads told theii young listeners how William Parsley, of Much Easton, and Jane his wife, had won the Flitch in 1701 — Ion/; before they or their mothers even were thought of. " A pretty sight that," the ancient bodies declared ; " but nothing — nothing whatever to the present." But, besides the farmers' wives and farmers daughters in carts, and young farmers on foot, bent upon becoming husbands and fathers themselves, there THE CUSTOM OF DUNJIOW. 265 was a great collection of sturdy yeomen on horsebacl? — many of them tenants of the Squire — thougli the greater part were strangers ; for the anticipated suc- cessful claim of the Flitch, coupled with Squire Monk- bui-y's promise of a feast, had attracted folks from aU parts of Essex — and even from the adjoining counties. They had come in all sorts of vehicles — in postchaise, coach, or cart — on hoi*seback or on foot — from far and neai* — from Tliaxted, Braintree, Coggeshall, and Witham — from Saffron Walden, Bishop Stortford, and Chipping Ongar — from Great Bardfield and Little Bardfield, from Great Saling, Panfield, and Rayne; How so many were to be entertained at Monkbui^ Place, Jonas could not conceive. The Squire's hos pitality would be severely taxed. Meantime, some refreshments were afforded to the crowd by itinerant vendors of meat-pies and fruit-pies — and by others, with little carts or barrows, who sold bottled ale and cider, and draught beer from the barrel. Throughout the large concourse, the utmost mii-th and good-humour prevailed. Plenty of noise, but no disorder. On the contrary, all were remarkably well conducted; and though, every twenty yards or so, there was stationed a well-dressed personage, with a long white wand in his hand, to keep the road cleai-, the active sei-vdces of these individuals were scarcely needed. Altogether, it was a most lively and amusing scene, and was never forgotten by those fortunate enough to witness it. Most propitious was the weather, as we have already remarked ; the sky cloudless — and the sun shining brilliantly. Nature was in her fullest beauty, and richest wealth of foliage and flower. The bells in the old Priory Church rang blithely — and the lads scat- tered about in groups — mounted on the hedge-banks — on the gates, or on the walls, or in the trees — shouted till they were hoarse. Nearer the Court House the equipages were of v superior description. Jonas counted ten coaches. 'i'-Ji* 266 THE FLITCH OF CACON : OR, a dozen of which he knew to belong to families oi importance. Then there were a great many ladie^ and gentlemen on horseback, and their numbers were constantly being increased by fresh arrivals. Some few dismounted, and left their horses with the grooms, but the greater part remained outside ; otherwise, the Court, which possessed but limited accommodation, would have been inconveniently crowded. The first coach, which was setting down just as Jonas came up, and barred his approach, contained Sir Walter Fitzwalter, his lady, and Mrs. Leslie. It was succeeded by another containing Dr. Sidebottom, Parson Bush, and Mr. Roper — and then a third drew up, from which Sir Ralph Gernon of Little Lees, Lady Gemon, and the three Misses Gernon, descended. Then came the Dennys — then the Lovels — then the Parkers — then the Houblons — after which, Jonas thought he should be able to move on. But no ! — Timothy Tipcat again signalled to the driver of the Bachelors and Maidens and to Carroty Dick to keep quiet, and remain where they were — and of course they could not disobey the beadle. The reason for the order was presently apparent. A loud and continuous shouting, not confined as hereto- fore to the juvenile part of the assemblage, but proceed- ing from persons of all ages — proclaimed the approach of a cavalcade. It was headed by the Squire and his daughter Bab, both of whom courteously acknowledged the enthusiastic greeting with which they were wel- comed. Always popular, the Squire was now quite the idol of his tenants, and of all who knew him. The woi-thy gentleman looked remarkably well, and so full of happiness that he seemed to difiiise some of it around him at every step taken by his steed. All loved to look upon his kindly countenance. Mounted as she was on herfavourite Gipsy, Bab was seen to the greatest possible advantage, and looked beautiful and bewitching as ever. Behind her were her three suitors — Grub, Chip, and Clot — and on the right, and almost alongside her, rode THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 267 Sir Gilbert de Montfichet. "Wonderfully improved in personal appearance was the young baronet. He had entirely lost the rakish air which had pre vioubly operated as a drawback to his good looks, and was now as fine a young gentleman, and as manly-looking, as need be. The cavalcade was closed by a couple, for whom if the shouts were not so loud as for the Squire and his younger daughter, it was because they excited even stronger and deeper interest than those popular per- sonages. People were too much occupied in gazing ai them, and admiiing them, to cheer. The fond pair, upon wliom all eyes were now fixed, and in praise of whom all lips were loud, were Alured Fitzwalter and his wife. One steed bore them; she sitting on a pillion behind him, with her arm round his waist. The attitude was tender and affectionate. And every look and gesture bestowed on each other by the pair were replete with love. Never was the recollection of the goodly couple effaced from the memory of those who beheld them as they rode together on that day. He so handsome, so frank, so courteous — she so fair, so sweet, so good. Her soul shone out in her speaking countenance. Her gentle nature could be read in her deportment. Kindly were the looks, and cordial the words ad- dressed by the pair to those nearest them. Grateful were they for the blessings showered upon their heads Little children were lifted up to look at them, and the tiny things clapped their small hands, and lifted up their infantine voices with delight, at the beautiful pageant passing by — which haunted them ever after wards like a bright and pleasant dream. Old trembling hands were stretched out to bless them; and many a mother prayed that her daughter might be like Rose — many a father trusted that his son might, in some respects, resemble Alured. So the pair wenj on, shedding smiles around them, and reaping such a harvest of good wishes as seldom falls to the lot of mortals, until they reached the door I 268 THE FLITCH OF BACON : OR, of the Coui't House, where Rose sprang lightly to the ground, and being instantly followed by her husband, they entered the building together — he smiling, and fondly encircling her with his arm. IV. SHOWING WHO WON THE FLITCH, AND WHO LOST IT. The Court was assembled. On an elevated judicial bench, with a desk before him, sat the Squire — as Lord of the Manor, Against the wall at the back of the bench was hung a large 'scutcheon, painted with the armorial coat of the Monk- burys. Near it was an old scroll containing the Charter of the Barony. On either side of the Squire were Di. Sidebottom, Parson Bush, Sir Walter Fitzwalter, Sir Ralph Gemon, Mr. Denny, Mr. Houblon, and other gentlemen of the county. The ladies occupied places behind — I^ady Fitzwalter and Mrs. Leslie sitting to- gether. The old curate's wife bore her years bravely, and though winter had sown its snows thickly upon her head, her cheek was still fresh, her eye bright, and the general expression of her countenance exceedingly lively and pleasing. She was, indeed, a very charming* old lady ; and as grandmother of the fond pair whom we have just conducted to the Court House, felt she had good reason to be proud and happy. So also felt her neighbour. Time's ravages and those of sorrow could not, of course, be wholly repaired in Lady Fitz- walter; but it was wonderful how much of her pristine beauty had returned to her. Once more her figure had acquired its fulness, her carriage its stateliness, and he" glances somewhat of their former fire ; and as she had all the advantages derivable from rich attire, she pro- duced a very striking effect. Those who had never seen her before wv^? *wiol\ imDressed by her; and THE CUSTOM OF I;UNMOW. 269 those who remembered her in the meridian of her Seauty, thought her but little changed. But the centre of attraction was Bab. The little beauty sat beside Mrs. Leslie, and talked a great deal more to grandmamma than to Sir Gilbert de Mont/, fichet, who was next her, on the other side. Grand- mamma, however, being very good-natured, and taking compassion on the young baronet, who had become a great favourite with her (reformed sciipegraces always are favourites with elderly ladies), contrived to mix him up in their conversation. But she could not ex* tend equal indulgence to three suitors, who flut- tered about Miss Monkbury, and made so much noise that they were, at last, requested by the usher of the court to be silent, and sit down. Immediately below the bench, at a table furnished with pens, ink, and paper, and having the register of the Court open before him, sat the Steward of the Manor, Mr. Boper, and his clerk Hopkinson. Around him, arranged in a semicircle, were the bailiff and tho burgesses of Dunmow, with some of the Squire's prin- cipal tenants, and several gentlemen who could not be better accommodated — for the Coui*t was crowded to excess, and by this time not even standing-room could be obtained, and the doors were ordered to be closed. In a raised box on the right of the bench the Jury were placed — the six maidens in front, smiling and blushing at their novel position, and endeavouring to appear composed — and the six bachelors behind — with their foreman, Simon Appleyard, noticeable for his consequential air and manner. A small platform, about two feet high, with rails in tront, and covered with green baize, was reserved for the Claimants. Near it stood Will Crane, bearing a pole, on the top of which the flitch itself was set — ^tne entire side of a huge hog, well cured, and well dried, as plump as my Lord Chancellor's woolsack, and as brown as a cake of chocolate. Tied to it by a riband was an ancient cilver chain worn by Sir Reginald Fitz^ 270 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, waiter, the founder of the Custom, supposed to be an amulet, and fashioned of the letters composing hia name, linked with those of his wife. Opposite the Jury was the witness-box. Neither of the couples, who, it was understood, were about to demand the prize were present; but both were in waiting for a summons. Silence being enjoined by Hopkinson, and peremp- torily enforced by the usher, the proceedings were s)pened by Mr. Roper. " Know all ])resent," the steward said, looking round, " that in accordance with a time-honoured Custom, in- stituted in the early part of the Thirteenth Century by an ancestor of the illustrious family of Fitzwalter — the existing representative of which ancient house is now amongst us — in accordance with this Custom, not less to be venerated for its antiquity, than to be ad- mired and lauded for its noble aim and purpose, namely, that of furnishing a reward for the most per- fect -conjugal love and fidelity — has this court met to decide upon the claims of any couple conceiving them- selves entitled to the Flitch, .and to award the prize to such couple, provided they shall establish a title to it ; inasmuch as the bestowal of the donation in manner aforesaid is imposed by the Charter under which the lordship is held, upon the Lord of the Manor of Little Dunmow — now represented by the very worshipful gentleman sitting on the bench, Mark Monkbury, Esquire ; whose pride and pleasure it has always been, and whose sedulous aim it will continue to be, to main- tain this ancient Custom in its integrity. Thus much premised, a word may be said in reference to the donation itself Such a prize must not be estimated for its rarity and splendour, but for the distinction it confers on those fortunate enough to obtain it. Homely is the Flitch, because the virtues it represents are of home — homeborn, homefelt. These domestic virtues gild and grace it, and make it richer than a crown of gold, ^^nviable are those on whom the prize THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 271 18 conferred, for they have not only established a claim to honoui' and respect, but have secured themselves felicity but rarely enjoyed on earth. The fame of the Dunmow Flitch has travelled beyond Essex. It has spread throughout England. It has been sung by the poets, — by the Father of English poetry, Chaucer. It has become proverbial. To say that any couple de- serve the Flitch is a high compliment. To say that they have actually won it is to proclaim them amongst the best and happiest of mankind. Such a couple must live in story and in song as an example to al' coming after them. But in proportion to the value and importance of the prize is the difficulty of its attainment. The Court must be fully satisfied of the merits of the Claimants before an award can be made in their favour ; and so hard are the conditions, that few, if any, have been found able to comply with them. Fifty years have flown since it was won last. May better fortime attend the candidates on the present occasion !" Mr. Roper s address was very well received, and the Squire having expressed his satisfaction at it, the steward went on : " There are two couples on the list — the first in order being Jonas Nettlebed, of Great Dunmow, innkeeper, and Nelly, his wife. — Let them be introduced to make their claim." A loud buzz was now heard in the Court, above which sounded the voice of the usher, crying out, " Jonas and Nelly Nettlebed, come in and make your claim. And see ye prove your title to the Flitch to the satisfaction of the Jury, and the Most Worshipful the Lord of the Manor, or it will not be delivered tQ you." A smile pervaded the assemblage as Jonas and Nelly presented themselves in answer to the summons of the usher. Way being made for them to the platform by the official, Jonas helped his wife to mount it, and then skipping after her with unwonted activity, bowed pro- foundly to the Squire, and then to the assemblage 272 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OK, generally. Nelly seemed a good deal abashed at first, and her cheek was suffused with blushes, but by de- grees her timidity wore off, and she ventured a glance at the throng around her. Jonas was not in the least discomposed. He never felt easier, or more at home in his life. The position in which he found himself was exactly to his taste ; and he only regretted that the ceremony must so soon be over. Oasting a look at the Flitch, now oversha- dowing him, he regarded it as already his own. After allowing a few minutes to elapse, Mr. Roper opened the business. " Jonas Nettlebed," he said, " the Court has received notice that you and your wife demand that the Flitch be delivered to you, according to the Custom of Dun- mow. Is it so?" " It is, sir," Jonas replied, bowing. " We do make the demand — respectfully, but emphatically make it." " You are aware of the oath prescribed for the occa- sion, and are prepared to take iU" "We are, sir." " I require an answer from your wife," the steward said. "Now, Nelly, why don't you speak?" Jonas whis- pered, nudging her. " You hear the question." " Have you any hesitation in taking the oath, Nelly?" the Squire remarked. " Oh ! none in the least, worshipful sir," she replied, curtesying — " only I thought that came at the church." " The oath will be there solemnly recited," Roper said — " but your examination as to its substance takes place here. Well, then, you are both able to swear — mind, to swear — that you * ne'er made nuptial trans- gression.' Look at me, Jonas, and lift up your eyes, Nelly. — You can both swear that? Both replied, "We can." " You can affirm that no * household brawls or con- tentions' have ever disturbed your peace T THE CUSTOM OF DUXMOW. 273 " We can afl&rm a great deal more than that," Jonas cned. " Confine yourself to my question. You can solemnly declare you have never quarrelled T "Oh, never quarrelled — never at all, sir," Nelly responded. " What a huiTy you are in," Jonas whispered. " We ought to answer together." " It's you who are so slow," she replied. "What's that I hear?" the Squire cried, sharply. " Nothing, worshipful sir — nothing," Jonas replied. " We're both ready to sweai- we've not had a wrong word since we were married." " Quite ready to swear it," Nelly added. " And have never offended each other ?" Roper de- manded. "Have I ever offended you, love]" Jonas said, turning to her. " Never," she replied. " Have I ever offended you, ducky?" " Never since you were bom," Jcnas rejoined. And here he thought of embracing her, but reflecting that such a demonstration might not be deemed respectful to the Court, he abstained. "And you can conscientiously declare you never wished yourselves unmarried?" was Roper's next in- teiTogation. " I can conscientiously declare it, sir," Jonas said, with emphasis. " And you, Nelly?" the steward asked, appealing to her. "Yes, sir ^ con — con — con — what's the word, Jonas r " No prompting," the steward interposed, severely- " Attend to me, Nelly. Have you ever wished your marriage dissolved 1" " Ever wished to be single again?" Jonas subjoined. " Oh ! dear no," Nelly cried. " I can swear I never "wished that." 274 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, " I must cautiou you, Jonas, that these inteirupiions cannot be permitted," the Squire said. " So far the Court rests satisfied with your conjoint declarations. What witnesses do you produce in confirmation of your statements ?" " Here is a list of them, worshipful sir," Jonas re- plied, placing a. paper in the cleft point of the usher a wand, by which means it was handed to the Squire, who, after glancing at it, gave it to the steward. The first person called was the bailiff of Dunmow, and his evidence was deemed perfectly satisfactory, as was the testimony offered by each of the burgesses who succeeded him. Tom Tapster, the next witness, said his master and missis was a pleasure to live with, they was so fond of each other, and for ever billin' and cooin' just like two lovyers 'i an assertion that caused Jonas to simper, and Nelly to blush, and hang down her head. The fat cook said she couldn't give 'em too good a character. They lulfilled their matterymoonial dooties in every pertikler; and havin' bin a married ooman herself, she parfitly understood what those dooties was. Carroty Dick objected to be sworn, but a glance from Peggy, who was close at hand, quickly brought him to, and he gulped down his scruples. A ver' perplexing interrogatory was put to him by the Coun;. — Had he ever known his master guilty of indiscre- tion? — "What maun I say to that, Peggy ]" Dick roared, amid the genera^ laughter of the Court. — " Speak the truth, of course," the steward rejoined, frowning. — " What be indiscretion, then?" — " Making love to a neighbour's wife," the Squire intimated. — " Oh, I never knowd master guilty o' that," the ostler answered, scratching his head. — This being all that could be extracted from Dick, he was sent down. Peggy came next, and she looked at !Mr. Koper with a confident smile, as much as to say, catch me if you can. She extolled her master and missis to the skies, and only hope'l »f ever she married, she might just THE CUSTOM OF DUNMOW. 275 find such another husband as Mr. Nettlebed. — Did her master ever exhibit jealonsy of his wife? — Jealousy! — not he. There wasn't a patienter man breathing than Mr. Nettlebed. — ^Was his patience ever tried, then?^-Oh yes, he put up with a great deal. — A great deal of what — scolding — ill-usage — bad temper — what? — Oh DO, nothin' of that kind. Missis never scolded, and never was ill-tempered, and master submitted to everytliing. — Perhaps she considered submission a merit in a husband? — The greatest merit he could possess. Mr. Nettlebed never said " No" to his wife, and consequently was the best of husbands. — Did Mrs. Nettlebed ever make any unreasonable requests of her husband? — Unreasonable — no. Master never denied missis anythin' she asked. If he did grumble a bit, it was behind her back. — Then he did grumble occa- sionally ] — Of course. It was human nature. Every- body gi-umbled. People couldn't live without it. — True. And therefore, perhaps, Mrs. Nettlebed some- times grumbled ! — A little, maybe, now and then. But, Lor' bless you, never before master. Missis never let liim see a cross look, or hear a cross word, however much she might be put out. — Oh ! then, she was put out sometimes. With her husband — eh? — Lor' bless you, no — with Dick — with cook — with Tom Tapster — with me — never with master ! Mr. Roper declined to ask any more questions, and Peggy went down, fully satisfied with what she had done. The Jury now consulted together, after which Simon Appleyard stood up, and said he had an observation to make, but the steward begged him to defer it until after the examination of the next witness. Jonas had thought all was over, and was congratu- ating himself upon the triumphant manner in which the afi'air had been brought to a conclusion, when a knell to his hopes almost sounded in his ears as he heard Captain Juddock evoked by the usher, and directly afterwards, beheld that gigantic individual 276 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, towering above the assemblage, as he stood ia the witness-box. Juddock had no longer anything of the Turk about him, not even the beard, which, as we know, had been left at the Old Inn, but appeared in his customary attire — a blue military coat with brass epaulettes, and brass buttons, and with the old brass-handled sword by his side, and the old funnel-topped boots on his legs. Glancing triumphantly at Jonas, who regarded him with mingled feelings of dismay and disgust, the giant awaited Koper's interrogations. " Last winter, you passed a night at the Old Inn at Dunraow, Captain Juddock," the steward said. " Have you any remark to make on Mrs. Nettlebed's conduct towards you ?" " Her conduct was exactly what a landlady's should be. She was exceedingly attentive." " Too attentive, perhaps ?" " I do not think so. Possibly, her husband might. I didn't give myself much concern about him." " Did they strike you as being a happy couple?" " Undoubtedly. They managed to keep up appear- ances extremely well." "Keep up appearances !" Jonas cried, unable longer to contain himself "How dare you make such an insinu- ation as that, sir? 'Appearances' in your teeth, sir." " I must call you to order, Jonas," the steward said. " Any remarks you may have to make, must be ad- dressed to me, and not to the witness." " Then tell him his testimony is worthless," the landlord cried. "It will be for the Jury to decide on its value," Mr. Roper replied. "Do you wish the examination to be pursued 1" addressing the Jury. The foreman answered, they did. " You are renowned for your gallantry, and for your conquests among the fair sex, I believe, Captain Jud- dock," Koper said, in continuation. " Pray, did Mrs. Nettlebed ever give you encouragement ?" THE CUSTOM OF DITNUOW. 277 ** I must beg respectfully to decline answering that question, sir," the giant replied. "Your refusal to reply will be considered tanta- mount to an admission of the fact," Roper remarked. "'* I cannot help that, sir," Juddock said. " T scorn the imputation," Nelly cried. " I never did give him encouragement, and when he wanted to kiss me, I slapped his great, fat, ugly face." "Oh! he wanted to kiss you—did he?" Jonas ex- claimed, surprised out of his caution. " You never told me so." " So you keep secrets from your husband, Nelly, do you?" the Squire remarked. "Nothing of any consequence, worshipful sir. I didn't think it worth while to trouble him about such a trifle as this." " Oh, you call this a trifle 1" Boper cried " Per- haps, it's a matter of every-day occmrence?' "Oh no, it ain't, sir. It's very rarely anybody attempts to kiss me. — Mr. Alured Fitzwalter, when he was Frank Woodbine, never did." Amidst the laughter occasioned by this reply, Jonas whispered to his wife — " You'll ruin our chance, if you don't mind." "Well, I can't help it. I wont allow a pack of stories to be told of me," she rejoined. " Concealment is not all one side," Juddock ob- served. "Jonas has secrets to keep as well as his wife." "I thought so," Nelly whispered- "Now it's all ooming out." " Be quiet, my love, I implore of you," Jonas rejoined. "Prove your words, Captain Juddock — prove them, sir." " So I will," the giant replied. " I saw you, myself, very tender with pretty Peggy, your chambermaid." "I deny the charge — ^indignantly deny it," Jonas cried. " Let Peggy be recalled," the Squire said. And as the chambermaid once more appeared in the witness- 278 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, box, ne continued — " You have heai'd what Captain Juddock has declared. Is there any truth in the assertion 1" " Master was always what a good master should be," Peggy replied. " I've no reason to com})lain of him." " Very likely not," the Squire said, laughing. " But has your mistress 1" " I should be sorry to think so, sir." "Kecal Carroty Dick," the Squire cried. And as the red-polled ostler reappeared, with a cloud upon his brow, he said to him — "Captain Juddock has ftffirmed that he saw some familiarities between your master and Peggy. What is your opinion as to the correctness of the statement 1" " My opinion be that it's true," Dick replied, with gloomy rage. " I saw him kiss her, mysel." " Oh, indeed— when?" "Last Christmas, under the mistletoe-bough — but I've often seen him kiss her since." " You have 1" Nelly screamed. " Oh ! the faithless little wretch." " There, now you have done it, Dick," Peggy cried ; " and you've done for yourself, too — for you shall never have me." " I dunna care," the ostler replied, sullenly — " I've had my revenge." Seeing the Jury consult together, and fearing an \mfavourable verdict, Jonas endeavoured to sustain his tottering cause by a vehement protest against Juddock's evidence. " He is not a credible witness," he said — " he is an impudent and audacious vagabond. I have heard say — and I appeal to two gentlemen here present — ^to Sir Walter Fitzwalter and Sir Gilbert de Montfichet, to corroborate the assertion — that he has been a common gaming-house bully and sharper. I know him to be an impostor and stroller, who has absconded from his employers, Messrs. Sheepshanks and Swiney, owners of a booth now at Chelmsford." THE CUSTOM OP DUNMOW. 279 " That's quite true, worshipful sir," the usher saia, addressing the Squire. " Tim Tipcat, the beadle, has just been in to inform me that Mr. Swiney is now out- side, with Isaacson and Latcham, the bailiflfs of Dun- mow, waiting to seize the individual styling himself Captain Juddock, when he comes out." "Show them in," the Squire rejoined. "Do not leave the witness-box, sir," he added, authoritatively, to Juddock. The next moment the trio were introduced. A little sharp-featured, high-shouldered man was Swiney, and clad in a light-brown square-cut coat. He had a hooked nose like a vulture, and looked altogether like a bird of prey. Fixing his keen eyes upon Juddock, he cried out in a shrill, and rather cracked voice — " There he is — that's my giant" " Your giant ?" the Squire said. " Do you claim a property in him, my good man?" " An absolute property, worshipful sir," Swiney re- plied. "He is bound to me — bound hand and foot. I've exhibited him for many years at all the country fairs — and at Southwark and Bartlemy Fairs in town. One year he was Plinlimmon, the Welsh giant — the next, Pennigant, the Yorkshire giant — the year after that, Tregonna, the Cornish giant." " Yes, I recollect seeing him as Tregonna, at Chelms- ford Fair," Nelly remarked " Another piece of conceahnent,** Jonas whispered- " You never told me that." " Dare say you do recollect him, ma*am," Swiney pur- sued. " He was there last May twelvemonth — but he deserted soon after that, and took to bad ways — fre- quenting low gaming-houses and coffee-houses, and picking up a livelihood how he could, instead of living respectably with me and Sheepshanks. But he came back last winter, and has been with us ever since, until he bolted yesterday, and spoiled our performance of the ' Fall of Bajazet.' We lost ten pound, if we lost a shilling by his sudden disappearance, worshipful sir. ' T ^80 THE FLITCH OF BACON: OR, " May I put a question, sir T Montfichet observed, rising and addressing tlie Squire. And receiving a nod in reply, he went on — " Do you desire to go back again to Mr. Swiney, Juddock ?" ^' I shouldn't mind, Sir G., if I weren't bound," the giant replied. "You shall have a release, then," Montfichet re- Joined. "What is your claim against him, Mr. IBwineyr "Why, ?t should be a hundred pounds. Sir Gilbert —but we'll say seventy." " Seventy be it — and henceforth the giant is a free agent. You may now withdraw, Mr. Swiney. All shall be settled with you presently." Hereupon the keeper of the booth and the bailifis bowed and retired. After the merriment which this interlude occasioned had somewhat subsided, Simon Appleyard stood up, and said that from the evidence ofiered them, the Jury were unanimously of opinion that the demand of Jonas Nettlebed and his wife had not been sustained, and must therefore be rejected. "Kejected !" Jonas exclaimed, in despair. " Recon- sider your verdict, I implore of you, Simon. It is founded on the evidence of a person utterly unworthy of credit — a convicted impostor — a giant with three names instead of three heads — Plinlimmon, Pennigant, and Tregonna." "You are mistaken, Jonas," Simon Appleyard re- plied. "We had agi'eed upon our verdict before Captain Juddock's examination took place. I repeat, that in the opinion of the Jury your claim to the Flitch cannot be sustained." "The demand is rejected." the Squire said. "Such is the decision of the Court ^' " Then farewell for ever to my chance of the Flitch," Jonas said, pathetically regarding it. " What a mag- nificent side of bacon it is ! — the finest and fatte.'rt I ever beheld 1 And there's a silver chain fsistened to it, THE CUSTOM OF DUIJMOW. 281 which would have just suited you. Alack! and well- a-day !" " Come down directly, sir," Nelly said, " and don't make yourself foolish by these idle lamentations. Bear the loss like a man." " So I will," Jonas blubbered ; " but to think of being within an ace of winning it — and then to be balked in this way. Alack ! alack !" " Keep up your spirits, Jonas," the Squire said. " You are not worse off than ninety-nine married men out of a hundred, so you needn't repine. I shall hope to see you and Nelly, by-and-by, at Monkbury Place." " Thank your honour," Jonas replied. " Farewell ! thou beautiful Flitch !" he added, casting a wistful eye at it as he stepped down. " Proceed to the next claimants, Roper," the Squire said. " With pleasure, sir," the steward replied. " They are Alured Fitz waiter, Esquire, of Little Dunmow, and Rose, his wife. Let them be called," he added to the usher. Amid a hush of expectation, the loving couple came in, and ascended the platform, where they stood hand in hand, answering promptly and cheerfully to the in- terrogations put to them by the steward. This done. Roper, turning to the Squire, said — " I must now request you, sir, to conduct the inquiry, as I myself am a principal witness." So saying, he ascended to the box, and being ques- tioned, declared, that from his own knowledge and observation, he could confirm all that had been stated by the demandants in respect to their perfect domestic hannony and devotion to each other. He had never known a couple so happy. T-K-enty other witnesses eagerly pressed forward as the steward concluded, and the testimony of all such as were examined was to the like effect. " Can any one contradict the evidence offered to the Court ?" the Squire asked. 282 THE FLITCH OP BACON: OR, " I have a remark to make, if you will please heax me, worshipful sir," Jonas replied. " Enter the witness-box, then," the Squire said. And as the landlord obeyed, he inquired — "NoWj what have you to declare?" *• I concur in all that has been uttered by the various witnesses in commendation of the lady claimant," Jonas replied, " and in much that has been affirmed concern- ing the gentleman. But he is not quite the pattern of conjugal fidelity he has been rejH'esented." " Indeed !" the Squire exclaimed. " What have you to allege against him? Speak out, man. Don't be afraid." " "Well, then, worshipful sir, since I must declare it, —on one occasion I saw him walking in a sequestered place — a thick grove, in fact — ^with a young lady — a very pretty young lady — they appeared deeply inte- rested in each other, and evidently desirous of eluding observation — and — and " " Go on," the Squire cried. " I saw him kiss her." " More than once ?" "No — the salute took place at parting. Isn't it enough to condemn him?" " Do you think you could point out the young ladj* in Court ?" the Squire said. "I'm not sure," Jonas replied, looking round. " Paul Flitwick was with me at the time. It was rather dusk, and we didn't see her very distinctly. But she had a remarkably neat figure, as I observed fco Paul" "The young lady is much obliged to you for the compliment, Mr. Nettlebed," Bab said. "And as I happen to be the person you beheld, I think you will own there was no great harm in walking with a brother-in-law, or in receiTring a parting salute from him. At all events, my si/^ter did not disapprove of the proceeding." Loud laughed the Court, a3 the diiicoofit ell, since they are your own, and with a device, whicli each of you may apply to the other — Toujours Fidele. And now ye are seated. Now ye are raised upon eight stalwart shoulders — and again the Procession is formed to lead you on. Not so numerous now as heretofore, for only those, who have rightful part in the Ceremony, may join it. But the Flitch shall be borne before you, and tho gentle lute and mandolin, and the slirill p^pes, and the loud hautboy shall precede you, and gladden all hearts with their strains. And the reverend man, who lia.^ just bleK=;ed you, shall walk in front. And so shall tho 290 THE PLITCH OP BACON. Lord of the Manor, who has yet a dearer title to jout love and honour, and who calls one of you daughter. And so shall another whose title is the same as his, and who calls the other son. And the worthy steward who has watched over you shall be with them. And the flower-girls shall hang garlands upon the chair in which ye sit, and sing simple songs in your praise. And the Bachelors and Maidens shall follow after you, and join in chorus. And much people shall attend you, shouting. And hundreds shall look on, and cheer and hless you as before. Thus escorted, shall ye trace out the precincts of the once vast and stately edifice. That done, the Ceremonial will be ended. Then shall you go home lovingly as you came, and shall take with you hundreds and hundreds to enjoy the unbounded hospitalities of Monkbury Place. Many a cup shall be drained to you — and ye shall make merry and rejoice. And thus shall end a pleasant and memorable day. And so, Fond Pair, farewell ! All happiness betide you! A word more. Long and happily did our Loving Pair live together. Nor were they separated at the last, for the same blow chilled the hearts of both — realizing what Rose herself had sung of her husband's progenitors. To the other candidates for the Flitch, whose un- successful attempts to gain it have been here recorded, might be applied the couplet which old Chaucer haa put into the mouth of the merry Wife of Bath — The Bacon was not fet for them I trow, That some men have in Essex at Duimiow- TH£ ESnX ^-< '^)^ ^. K > t ^ :^^^ V 4 / f^ y r ,>^i II ' A iX ^X c r ijf-v,