Every word was thus audible to the servants, who
had followed them out of the house and now congregated about us on
the terrace, as well as to Rowley and the five postillions on the
gravel sweep below. The sentiments expressed were popular; some
ass, whom the devil moved to be my enemy, proposed three cheers,
and they were given with a will. To hear my own name resounding
amid acclamations in the hills of Westmorland was flattering,
perhaps; but it was inconvenient at a moment when (as I was morally
persuaded) police handbills were already speeding after me at the
rate of a hundred miles a day.
Nor was that the end of it. The archdeacon must present his
compliments, and pressed upon me some of his West India sherry, and
I was carried into a vastly fine library, where I was presented to
his lady wife. While we were at sherry in the library, ale was
handed round upon the terrace. Speeches were made, hands were
shaken, Missy (at her father's request) kissed me farewell, and the
whole party reaccompanied me to the terrace, where they stood
waving hats and handkerchiefs, and crying farewells to all the
echoes of the mountains until the chaise had disappeared.
The echoes of the mountains were engaged in saying to me privately:
'You fool, you have done it now!'
'They do seem to have got 'old of your name, Mr.
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