The Old English Baron | Page 5

though Lord Lovel is dead,
and the castle fallen into other hands, his friends will always find a
welcome there; and my lord desires that he will accept of a lodging
there, while he remains in this country.' -- So I came away directly, and
made haste to deliver my errand."
Sir Philip expressed some dissatisfaction at this mark of old Wyatt's
respect.
"I wish," said he, "that you had acquainted me with your intention
before you sent to inform the Baron I was here. I choose rather to lodge
with you; and I propose to make amends for the trouble I shall give
you."
"Pray, sir, don't mention it," said the peasant, "you are as welcome as
myself; I hope no offence; the only reason of my sending was, because
I am both unable and unworthy to entertain your honour."
"I am sorry," said Sir Philip, "you should think me so dainty; I am a
Christian soldier; and him I acknowledge for my Prince and Master,
accepted the invitations of the poor, and washed the feet of his disciples.
Let us say no more on this head; I am resolved to stay this night in your
cottage, tomorrow I will wait on the Baron, and thank him for his
hospitable invitation."

"That shall be as your honour pleases, since you will condescend to
stay here. John, do you run back and acquaint my Lord of it."
"Not so," said Sir Philip; "it is now almost dark."
"'Tis no matter," said John, "I can go it blindfold."
Sir Philip then gave him a message to the Baron in his own name,
acquainting him that he would pay his respects to him in the morning.
John flew back the second time, and soon returned with new
commendations from the Baron, and that he would expect him on the
morrow. Sir Philip gave him an angel of gold, and praised his speed
and abilities.
He supped with Wyatt and his family upon new-laid eggs and rashers
of bacon, with the highest relish. They praised the Creator for His gifts,
and acknowledged they were unworthy of the least of His blessings.
They gave the best of their two lofts up to Sir Philip, the rest of the
family slept in the other, the old woman and her daughter in the bed,
the father and his two sons upon clean straw. Sir Philip's bed was of a
better kind, and yet much inferior to his usual accommodations;
nevertheless the good knight slept as well in Wyatt's cottage, as he
could have done in a palace.
During his sleep, many strange and incoherent dreams arose to his
imagination. He thought he received a message from his friend Lord
Lovel, to come to him at the castle; that he stood at the gate and
received him, that he strove to embrace him, but could not; but that he
spoke to this effect: -- "Though I have been dead these fifteen years, I
still command here, and none can enter these gates without my
permission; know that it is I that invite, and bid you welcome; the
hopes of my house rest upon you." Upon this he bid Sir Philip follow
him; he led him through many rooms, till at last he sunk down, and Sir
Philip thought he still followed him, till he came into a dark and
frightful cave, where he disappeared, and in his stead he beheld a
complete suit of armour stained with blood, which belonged to his
friend, and he thought he heard dismal groans from beneath. Presently
after, he thought he was hurried away by an invisible hand, and led into
a wild heath, where the people were inclosing the ground, and making
preparations for two combatants; the trumpet sounded, and a voice
called out still louder, "Forbear! It is not permitted to be revealed till
the time is ripe for the event; wait with patience on the decrees of

heaven." He was then transported to his own house, where, going into
an unfrequented room, he was again met by his friend, who was living,
and in all the bloom of youth, as when he first knew him: He started at
the sight, and awoke. The sun shone upon his curtains, and, perceiving
it was day, he sat up, and recollected where he was. The images that
impressed his sleeping fancy remained strongly on his mind waking;
but his reason strove to disperse them; it was natural that the story he
had heard should create these ideas, that they should wait on him in his
sleep, and that every dream should bear some relation to his deceased
friend. The sun dazzled his eyes, the birds serenaded him and diverted
his attention, and a woodbine forced its way through the window, and
regaled his