[Peveril of the Peak by Sir Walter Scott]@TWC D-Link bookPeveril of the Peak CHAPTER IX 3/10
The ravens, doubtless, resumed their nature when the season was passed, and even so it has fared with him .-- Hark!" he exclaimed, starting, "I hear his horse's hoof tramp even now." It was seldom that the echoes of that silent house and courtyard were awakened by the trampling of horses, but such was now the case. Both Bridgenorth and Solsgrace were surprised at the sound, and even disposed to anticipate some farther oppression on the part of the government, when the Major's old servant introduced, with little ceremony (for his manners were nearly as plain as his master's), a tall gentleman on the farther side of middle life, whose vest and cloak, long hair, slouched hat and drooping feather, announced him as a Cavalier. He bowed formally, but courteously, to both gentlemen, and said, that he was "Sir Jasper Cranbourne, charged with an especial message to Master Ralph Bridgenorth of Moultrassie Hall, by his honourable friend Sir Geoffrey Peveril of the Peak, and that he requested to know whether Master Bridgenorth would be pleased to receive his acquittal of commission here or elsewhere." "Anything which Sir Geoffrey Peveril can have to say to me," said Major Bridgenorth, "may be told instantly, and before my friend, from whom I have no secrets." "The presence of any other friend were, instead of being objectionable, the thing in the world most to be desired," said Sir Jasper, after a moment's hesitation, and looking at Mr.Solsgrace; "but this gentleman seems to be a sort of clergyman." "I am not conscious of any secrets," answered Bridgenorth, "nor do I desire to have any, in which a clergyman is unfitting confidant." "At your pleasure," replied Sir Jasper.
"The confidence, for aught I know, may be well enough chosen, for your divines (always under your favour) have proved no enemies to such matters as I am to treat with you upon." "Proceed, sir," answered Mr.Bridgenorth gravely; "and I pray you to be seated, unless it is rather your pleasure to stand." "I must, in the first place, deliver myself of my small commission," answered Sir Jasper, drawing himself up; "and it will be after I have seen the reception thereof, that I shall know whether I am, or am not, to sit down at Moultrassie Hall .-- Sir Geoffrey Peveril, Master Bridgenorth, hath carefully considered with himself the unhappy circumstances which at present separate you as neighbours.
And he remembers many passages in former times--I speak his very words--which incline him to do all that can possibly consist with his honour, to wipe out unkindness between you; and for this desirable object, he is willing to condescend in a degree, which, as you could not have expected, it will no doubt give you great pleasure to learn." "Allow me to say, Sir Jasper," said Bridgenorth, "that this is unnecessary.
I have made no complaints of Sir Geoffrey--I have required no submission from him--I am about to leave this country; and what affairs we may have together, can be as well settled by others as by ourselves." "In a word," said the divine, "the worthy Major Bridgenorth hath had enough of trafficking with the ungodly, and will no longer, on any terms, consort with them." "Gentleman both," said Sir Jasper, with imperturbable politeness, bowing, "you greatly mistake the tenor of my commission, which you will do as well to hear out, before making any reply to it .-- I think, Master Bridgenorth, you cannot but remember your letter to the Lady Peveril, of which I have here a rough copy, in which you complain of the hard measure which you have received at Sir Geoffrey's hand, and, in particular, when he pulled you from your horse at or near Hartley-nick. Now, Sir Geoffrey thinks so well of you, as to believe, that, were it not for the wide difference betwixt his descent and rank and your own, you would have sought to bring this matter to a gentleman-like arbitrament, as the only mode whereby your stain may be honourably wiped away.
Wherefore, in this slight note, he gives you, in his generosity, the offer of what you, in your modesty (for to nothing else does he impute your acquiescence), have declined to demand of him.
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