Peveril of the Peak | Page 7

the factions of Westminster Hall and of
Wallingford House. Accordingly he joined with Sir Geoffrey, with less
enthusiasm indeed, but with equal sincerity, taking such measures as
seemed proper to secure their part of the country on the King's behalf,
which was done as effectually and peaceably as in other parts of
England. The neighbours were both at Chesterfield, when news arrived
that the King had landed in England; and Sir Geoffrey instantly
announced his purpose of waiting upon his Majesty, even before his
return to the Castle of Martindale.
"Who knows, neighbour," he said, "whether Sir Geoffrey Peveril will
ever return to Martindale? Titles must be going amongst them yonder,
and I have deserved something among the rest.--Lord Peveril would
sound well--or stay, Earl of Martindale--no, not of Martindale--Earl of
the Peak.--Meanwhile, trust your affairs to me--I will see you
secured--I would you had been no Presbyterian, neighbour--a
knighthood,--I mean a knight-bachelor, not a knight-baronet,--would
have served your turn well."
"I leave these things to my betters, Sir Geoffrey," said the Major, "and

desire nothing so earnestly as to find all well at Martindale when I
return."
"You will--you will find them all well," said the Baronet; "Julian, Alice,
Lady Peveril, and all of them--Bear my commendations to them, and
kiss them all, neighbour, Lady Peveril and all--you may kiss a Countess
when I come back; all will go well with you now you are turned honest
man."
"I always meant to be so, Sir Geoffrey," said Bridgenorth calmly.
"Well, well, well--no offence meant," said the Knight, "all is well
now--so you to Moultrassie Hall, and I to Whitehall. Said I well, aha!
So ho, mine host, a stoup of Canary to the King's health ere we get to
horse--I forgot, neighbour--you drink no healths."
"I wish the King's health as sincerely as if I drank a gallon to it,"
replied the Major; "and I wish you, Sir Geoffrey, all success on your
journey, and a safe return."

CHAPTER II
Why, then, we will have bellowing of beeves, Broaching of barrels,
brandishing of spigots; Blood shall flow freely, but it shall be gore Of
herds and flocks, and venison and poultry, Join'd to the brave
heart's-blood of John-a-Barleycorn! --OLD PLAY.
Whatever rewards Charles might have condescended to bestow in
acknowledgement of the sufferings and loyalty of Peveril of the Peak,
he had none in his disposal equal to the pleasure which Providence had
reserved for Bridgenorth on his return to Derbyshire. The exertion to
which he had been summoned, had had the usual effect of restoring to a
certain extent the activity and energy of his character, and he felt it
would be unbecoming to relapse into the state of lethargic melancholy
from which it had roused him. Time also had its usual effect in
mitigating the subjects of his regret; and when he had passed one day at

the Hall in regretting that he could not expect the indirect news of his
daughter's health, which Sir Geoffrey used to communicate in his
almost daily call, he reflected that it would be in every respect
becoming that he should pay a personal visit at Martindale Castle, carry
thither the remembrances of the Knight to his lady, assure her of his
health, and satisfy himself respecting that of his daughter. He armed
himself for the worst--he called to recollection the thin cheeks, faded
eye, wasted hand, pallid lip, which had marked the decaying health of
all his former infants.
"I shall see," he said, "these signs of mortality once more--I shall once
more see a beloved being to whom I have given birth, gliding to the
grave which ought to enclose me long before her. No matter--it is
unmanly so long to shrink from that which must be--God's will be
done!"
He went accordingly, on the subsequent morning, to Martindale Castle,
and gave the lady the welcome assurances of her husband's safety, and
of his hopes of preferment.
"For the first, may Almighty God be praised!" said the Lady Peveril;
"and be the other as our gracious and restored Sovereign may will it.
We are great enough for our means, and have means sufficient for
contentment, though not for splendour. And now I see, good Master
Bridgenorth, the folly of putting faith in idle presentiments of evil. So
often had Sir Geoffrey's repeated attempts in favour of the Stewarts led
him into new misfortunes, that when, the other morning, I saw him
once more dressed in his fatal armour, and heard the sound of his
trumpet, which had been so long silent, it seemed to me as if I saw his
shroud, and heard his death-knell. I say this to you, good neighbour, the
rather because I fear your own mind has been harassed with
anticipations of impending calamity, which it