The Tapestried Chamber | Page 6

being comfortable, but old-fashioned, The bed was of the massive
form used in the end of the seventeenth century, and the curtains of
faded silk, heavily trimmed with tarnished gold. But then the sheets,
pillows, and blankets looked delightful to the campaigner, when he
thought of his "mansion, the cask." There was an air of gloom in the
tapestry hangings, which, with their worn-out graces, curtained the
walls of the little chamber, and gently undulated as the autumnal breeze
found its way through the ancient lattice window, which pattered and
whistled as the air gained entrance. The toilet, too, with its mirror,
turbaned after the manner of the beginning of the century, with a
coiffure of murrey-coloured silk, and its hundred strange-shaped boxes,
providing for arrangements which had been obsolete for more than fifty
years, had an antique, and in so far a melancholy, aspect. But nothing
could blaze more brightly and cheerfully than the two large wax
candles; or if aught could rival them, it was the flaming, bickering
fagots in the chimney, that sent at once their gleam and their warmth
through the snug apartment, which, notwithstanding the general
antiquity of its appearance, was not wanting in the least convenience
that modern habits rendered either necessary or desirable.
"This is an old-fashioned sleeping apartment, General," said the young
lord; "but I hope you find nothing that makes you envy your old
tobacco-cask."
"I am not particular respecting my lodgings," replied the General; "yet
were I to make any choice, I would prefer this chamber by many
degrees to the gayer and more modern rooms of your family mansion.
Believe me that, when I unite its modern air of comfort with its
venerable antiquity, and recollect that it is your lordship's property, I
shall feel in better quarters here than if I were in the best hotel London
could afford."
"I trust--I have no doubt--that you will find yourself as comfortable as I
wish you, my dear General," said the young nobleman; and once more
bidding his guest good-night, he shook him by the hand, and withdrew.
The General once more looked round him, and internally
congratulating himself on his return to peaceful life, the comforts of

which were endeared by the recollection of the hardships and dangers
he had lately sustained, undressed himself, and prepared for a luxurious
night's rest.
Here, contrary to the custom of this species of tale, we leave the
General in possession of his apartment until the next morning.
The company assembled for breakfast at an early hour, but without the
appearance of General Browne, who seemed the guest that Lord
Woodville was desirous of honouring above all whom his hospitality
had assembled around him. He more than once expressed surprise at
the General's absence, and at length sent a servant to make inquiry after
him. The man brought back information that General Browne had been
walking abroad since an early hour of the morning, in defiance of the
weather, which was misty and ungenial.
"The custom of a soldier," said the young nobleman to his friends.
"Many of them acquire habitual vigilance, and cannot sleep after the
early hour at which their duty usually commands them to be alert."
Yet the explanation which Lord Woodville thus offered to the company
seemed hardly satisfactory to his own mind, and it was in a fit of
silence and abstraction that he waited the return of the General. It took
place near an hour after the breakfast bell had rung. He looked fatigued
and feverish. His hair, the powdering and arrangement of which was at
this time one of the most important occupations of a man's whole day,
and marked his fashion as much as in the present time the tying of a
cravat, or the want of one, was dishevelled, uncurled, void of powder,
and dank with dew. His clothes were huddled on with a careless
negligence, remarkable in a military man, whose real or supposed
duties are usually held to include some attention to the toilet; and his
looks were haggard and ghastly in a peculiar degree.
"So you have stolen a march upon us this morning, my dear General,"
said Lord Woodville; "or you have not found your bed so much to your
mind as I had hoped and you seemed to expect. How did you rest last
night?"
"Oh, excellently well! remarkably well! never better in my life," said
General Browne rapidly, and yet with an air of embarrassment which
was obvious to his friend. He then hastily swallowed a cup of tea, and
neglecting or refusing whatever else was offered, seemed to fall into a
fit of abstraction.

"You will take the gun to-day, General?" said his friend and host, but
had to repeat the question twice ere he received the abrupt answer,