CHAPTER FOUR.
OUT FOR A WALK.
Unlike in other respects, the sisters were unequal in height--the elderbeing the taller. With some difference in their dress, too, though bothwore the ordinary outdoor costume of the day. It was rather gracefulthan splendid, for the hideous farthingale of the Elizabethan era wasthen going out of fashion, and their gowns, close-fitting in body andsleeves, displayed the outlines of figures that were perfection. Theirswere not charms that needed heightening by any adornment of dress.However plainly attired, there was in their air and carriage that gracewhich distinguishes the gentlewoman. Still, the younger was not withoutaffectation of ornament. Her French hood of bright-coloured silk,looped under the chin, was so coifed as to show in a coquettish way herwealth of radiant hair, and beneath the gorget ruff gleamed a necklet ofgold, with rings in her ears. There was embroidery, also, on the bodiceand sleeves of her gown--doubtless the work of her own fair fingers. Inthose days ladies, even the grandest dames, were not above using theneedle.
Sabrina's hood, of a more sombre hue, was quite as becoming, and moresuitable to her darker complexion. Her general attire, too, wasappropriate to her character, which was of the staid, sober kind. Bothwore strong, thick-soled shoes--being out for a walk--but neither thesenor home-knitted stockings, which their short skirts permitted view of,could hinder the eye from beholding feet small and finely-shaped, withhigh instep and elegant _tournure_ of ankles.
Good walkers they were, as could be told by the way they stepped alongthe Forest road; for they were on one. It was that which ran fromRuardean to Drybrook, and their faces were set in the direction of thelatter. Between the two towns a high ridge is interposed, and this theywere ascending from the Ruardean side. Before they had reached itssummit, Vaga, coming abruptly to a stop, said:--
"Don't you think we've walked far enough?"
"Why? Are you tired?"
"No--not that. But it occurs to me we may be wandering too far fromhome."
That Sabrina was not wandering might have been told by her step,straightforward, as also her earnest glances, interrogating the roadahead at every turning. As these had been somewhat surreptitiously,though not timidly, given, the other had hitherto failed to notice them.Indeed, Vaga was not all the while by her side, nor keeping step withher. A huge dog of the Old English mastiff breed more occupied herattention; the animal every now and then making a rush at the browsingsheep, and sending them helter-skelter among the trees, his youngmistress--for the dog was hers--clapping her hands with delight, andcrying him on regardless of the mischief. It was only when no more ofthe little Welsh muttons were to be seen along the road that she joinedher sister, and put in that plea for turning back.
"So far from home!" repeated Sabrina, with feigned surprise. "Why, wehaven't come quite two miles--not much over one."
"True; but--"
"But what? Are you afraid?"
"A little--I confess."
"And the cause of your fear? Not wolves? If so, I can release you fromit. It's now quite half a century since there was a wolf seen in thisForest; and he--poor, lonely creature, the last of his race--was mostunmercifully slain. The Foresters, being mostly of Welsh ancestry, havean hereditary hatred of the lupine species, I suppose from thatmischance which befel the infant Llewellyn." Vaga laughed, as sherejoined:--"Instead of having a fear of wolves, I'd like to see one justnow. Hector, I'm sure, would show fight; ay, and conquer it, too, asdid the famed Beth-Gelert his. Wouldn't you, old Hec? Ay! that youwould."
At which the mastiff, rearing up, set his paws against her breast toreceive the caressess extended; and, after these being given him,scampered off again in search of more sheep.
"Then what are you afraid of?" asked Sabrina, "Ghosts? There are noneof them in the Forest either. If there were, no danger of their showingthemselves by daylight, and we'll be back home long before the sun goesdown. Ha, ha, ha!"
It was as unusual for the older of the sisters to talk in such a lightstrain as it was for the younger to speak otherwise. Just then each hada reason for this reversion of their _roles_.
Further questioned as to the cause of her fear, Vaga made answer,saying,--
"You're merry, sister Sab, and I'm right glad to see you so. But what Imeant isn't a matter for jest; instead, something to be really alarmedabout."
"When you've told me what it is, I'll give my opinion upon it. Ifneither wolves nor ghosts, what can it be? Bipeds or quadrupeds?"
"Bipeds, and of the sort most to be dreaded--brutal men."
"Oh! that's it. But what men are there about here deserving to be socharacterised?"
"None about here, I hope and believe. But you know, sister, what'sgoing on all around the Forest: those mobs of lawless fellows down atMonmouth and Lydney. Suppose some of them to be coming this way andmeet us?"
"I don't suppose it, and needn't. The malignants of Monmouth and Lydneyare not likely to be upon this road. If they did, 'twould be at theirperil. The men of Ruardean and Drybrook are of a different sort--theright sort. Should we meet any of them, though they may be a littlerough in appearance, they won't be rude. No true Forester ever is to awoman, whether lady or not. That they leave to the foreign elements SirJohn Wintour has brought to Lydney, and the so-called Cavaliers on theMonmouth side--those braggarts of their blood and gallant bearing, mostof them the veriest scum of the country, its gamesters and tapsters, thesweepings of the alehouse and stable! Cavaliers, indeed! who know notpoliteness to man nor respect for woman; care neither for nationalhonour nor social decency!"
The enlightened young lady spoke with a warmth bordering uponindignation. With truth, too, as might one of her sort now about Toriesand Jingoes. But, alas! now there are but few of her sort, youthful andenthusiastic in the cause of liberty; instead, ancient maidens of wealthand title, some of whose ancestors trod the stage playing at charity forthe sake of popularity; patronising play-actors and endowing homes forstrayed dogs! showing a shameless sympathy with the foul murdering Turkand his red-handed atrocities; last and latest of all, having theeffrontery--impertinent as unfeminine--to counsel, ay, dictate,political action to England's people, telling them how they should casttheir votes!
What a contrast between their doings and the sayings and sentiments ofthat young Forest girl--all that lies between the mean and the noble!
"But," she went on, in reference to the _gentlemen_ of the gaming-houseand hostelry tap-room, "we needn't fear meeting them here, nor anywherethrough the Forest. The Foresters--brave fellows--are for theParliament almost to a man. Should we encounter any of them on ourwalk, I'll answer for their good behaviour and kind-heartedness--something more, if knowing who we are. Father is a favourite with themfor having taken their side against the usurpations of Wintour; thoughthey liked him before that, and I'm proud of their doing so."
"Oh! so am I, Sabrina. I'm as fond of our dear Foresters as you. Itisn't of them I had any fear. But, apart from all that, I think it'stime we turn our steps homeward. We're surely now two miles fromHollymead; and see! the sun's hastening to go down behind the Welshhills."
While so delivering herself, she faced round, the Welsh hills beingbehind their backs as they walked towards Drybrook.
"Hasten as it likes," rejoined Sabrina, "it can't get down for at leastanother hour. That will give us ample time to go on to the top of thehill and back to Hollymead before supper; which last, if I mistake not,is the chief cause of your anxiety to be at home."
"For shame, Sabrina! You know it isn't--the last thing in my thoughts."
Sabrina did know that; knew, also, she was not speaking her ownthoughts, but using subterfuge to conceal them. It was herself hadproposed the stroll she seemed so desirous of continuing. To her itstermination would not be satisfactory without attaining the summit ofthe ridge whose slope they were ascending.
Thrown back by what her younger sister had said, but still determined toproceed, without giving the true reason, she bethought he
rself of one,false though plausible.
"Well, Vag," she laughingly pursued, "I was only jesting, as you know.But there's one thing I hate to do--never could do, that's to half climba hill without going on to its top. It seems like breaking down orbacking out, and crying `surrender,'--which our dear father has taughtus never to do. Up to the summit yonder is but a step now. It won'ttake us ten minutes more to reach it; besides, I want to see something Ihaven't set eyes on for a long while--that grand valley through whichmeanders my namesake, Sabrina. And looking back from there, you canalso feast your eyes on that in which wanders yours, Vaga, capriciouslike yourself. In addition," she added, not heeding her sister's shrugof the shoulders, "we'll there get a better view of a glorious sunsetthat's soon to be over the Hatteral Hills; and the twilight after willgive us ample time to get home before the supper table be set. So, whyshould you hinder me--to say nothing of yourself--from indulging in alittle bit of aesthetics?"
"Hinder you!" exclaimed Vaga, protestingly. "I hinder! You shan't saythat."
And at the words she went bounding on upward, like a mountain antelope;not stopping again till she stood on the summit of the hill.