“An I were thou, William,” said Jacob, “I should not delay matters very long. There is Master Benjamin and Lucy are ready enough for a ring, I warrant; why, then, should ye not all marry at the same time? ’Twill be a gay sight and a good one for sore eyes, that same wedding.”
“But these are troublous times to marry in, Jacob,” I answered. “And then, you see, Master Lisle is away at the wars, and we must have his consent before we settle anything.”
“Tut, lad, Black Phil I warrant will say naught against a Dale marrying his daughter. Marry, not he indeed! There is no better family than ours amongst all the yeomen of Yorkshire. Well, you have done well, William, to win such a bonny lass. But waste no time, lad. Let me see thy children on my knees before I die.”
“I hope my children, if I have any, will be well on in years before you come to die, Jacob. Why, you are a young man yet.”
“Young in mind, lad, but old in body. What! I was middle-aged when you were born. Ah, I remember that day very well indeed. We were harvesting in the twelve-acre. Then the word came along that a son was born. So I threw down my scythe and went over to the house and looked at thee, William, for the first time. As red as my Sunday scarf thou wert. But a real Dale, and weighing, I should think, about ten pound, or maybe eleven. Old Mother Eyre of Thorpe nursed thee—now dead and gone is she. Thou couldst walk at twelve months, but thou didst not talk for six months after that. Well, but ’tis a long time ago.”
Now, this was not the only joyful event of that memorable day, for we had another great surprise before the evening was over. I had gone outside to walk round the buildings, as was my custom every night, for I liked to know that my horses and cattle were safely housed and fed, and as I crossed the yard from the stables to the house I saw in the dim light two horsemen endeavouring to open the gate of the paddock. And then all of a sudden the house door was opened and Rose was in her father’s arms, and we were shaking hands all round and all talking together, for Philip Lisle and Jack Drumbleforth were home again from the wars, safe and sound, and we were once more united round the old hearthstone.
XXII
Of Jack Drumbleforth’s Return Home
You may be quite sure that we threw wide open our hearts and doors and welcomed our travellers with no little rejoicing. For though they had not been away from us for such a great length of time, having only been absent during the autumn and winter, yet it appeared a considerable season, and we were heartily glad to see their faces again. And so they were quickly in the great kitchen and everybody was shaking hands with them and the women were all talking together, so that you could not hear yourself speak for noise. Nay, so busied were they with asking questions and giving their own news as to what had happened during the travellers’ absence, that it was all Philip and Jack could do to get a word in or to swallow a mouthful of the food and drink which my mother and Lucy hastened to set on the table. But after awhile, when the first tumult of rejoicing was over and we were all sat round the hearth in the firelight, I was able to get a good look at my two old friends and notice how their adventures had fared with them. And I quickly perceived that even those few months of campaigning had changed Jack Drumbleforth in appearance, if in nothing else. For he was now bronzed and tanned like one who has been out much in all weathers, and he had grown a great beard and moustache, so that his face was much changed. But the same old eyes of honest gray looked out from above the same somewhat snubbed nose, and the eye twinkled when he said a sly thing just as in the old days. I could not think what Parson Drumbleforth would say to his son’s altered appearance, for Jack looked less like a learned clerk than ever. He had gotten himself a slight sword-cut on his right cheek, and this, while giving him a military air, also added something of distinction to him, according to the girls. Yea, indeed, in his scarlet coat and sash and great buff boots, with the sword at his side and his hair and beard trimmed in the Stuart fashion, Jack looked a very different fellow to the old Jack that used to make fun for us in the old days.
I suppose that nobody was more content that night than my mother, who, having a great horror of war and bloodshed, was only too well pleased to see our warriors home again with their heads and limbs still preserved to them. But she had been better pleased if Philip Lisle could have given her more satisfactory news about the war, which she wished to see terminate there and
