Barnaby, armed as we have seen, continued to pace up and downbefore the stable-door; glad to be alone again, and heartilyrejoicing in the unaccustomed silence and tranquillity. After thewhirl of noise and riot in which the last two days had been passed,the pleasures of solitude and peace were enhanced a thousandfold.
He felt quite happy; and as he leaned upon his staff and mused, abright smile overspread his face, and none but cheerful visionsfloated into his brain.
Had he no thoughts of her, whose sole delight he was, and whom hehad unconsciously plunged in such bitter sorrow and such deepaffliction? Oh, yes. She was at the heart of all his cheerfulhopes and proud reflections. It was she whom all this honour anddistinction were to gladden; the joy and profit were for her. Whatdelight it gave her to hear of the bravery of her poor boy! Ah!
He would have known that, without Hugh"s telling him. And what aprecious thing it was to know she lived so happily, and heard withso much pride (he pictured to himself her look when they told her)that he was in such high esteem: bold among the boldest, andtrusted before them all! And when these frays were over, and thegood lord had conquered his enemies, and they were all at peaceagain, and he and she were rich, what happiness they would have intalking of these troubled times when he was a great soldier: andwhen they sat alone together in the tranquil twilight, and she hadno longer reason to be anxious for the morrow, what pleasure wouldhe have in the reflection that this was his doing--his--poorfoolish Barnaby"s; and in patting her on the cheek, and saying witha merry laugh, "Am I silly now, mother--am I silly now?"
With a lighter heart and step, and eyes the brighter for the happytear that dimmed them for a moment, Barnaby resumed his walk; andsinging gaily to himself, kept guard upon his quiet post.
His comrade Grip, the partner of his watch, though fond of baskingin the sunshine, preferred to-day to walk about the stable; havinga great deal to do in the way of scattering the straw, hiding underit such small articles as had been casually left about, andhaunting Hugh"s bed, to which he seemed to have taken a particularattachment. Sometimes Barnaby looked in and called him, and thenhe came hopping out; but he merely did this as a concession to hismaster"s weakness, and soon returned again to his own gravepursuits: peering into the straw with his bill, and rapidlycovering up the place, as if, Midas-like, he were whisperingsecrets to the earth and burying them; constantly busying himselfupon the sly; and affecting, whenever Barnaby came past, to look upin the clouds and have nothing whatever on his mind: in short,conducting himself, in many respects, in a more than usuallythoughtful, deep, and mysterious manner.
As the day crept on, Barnaby, who had no directions forbidding himto eat and drink upon his post, but had been, on the contrary,supplied with a bottle of beer and a basket of provisions,determined to break his fast, which he had not done since morning.
To this end, he sat down on the ground before the door, and puttinghis staff across his knees in case of alarm or surprise, summonedGrip to dinner.
This call, the bird obeyed with great alacrity; crying, as hesidled up to his master, "I"m a devil, I"m a Polly, I"m a kettle,I"m a Protestant, No Popery!" Having learnt this latter sentimentfrom the gentry among whom he had lived of late, he delivered itwith uncommon emphasis.
"Well said, Grip!" cried his master, as he fed him with thedaintiest bits. "Well said, old boy!"
"Never say die, bow wow wow, keep up your spirits, Grip Grip Grip,Holloa! We"ll all have tea, I"m a Protestant kettle, No Popery!"
cried the raven.
"Gordon for ever, Grip!" cried Barnaby.
The raven, placing his head upon the ground, looked at his mastersideways, as though he would have said, "Say that again!"
Perfectly understanding his desire, Barnaby repeated the phrase agreat many times. The bird listened with profound attention;sometimes repeating the popular cry in a low voice, as if tocompare the two, and try if it would at all help him to this newaccomplishment; sometimes flapping his wings, or barking; andsometimes in a kind of desperation drawing a multitude of corks,with extraordinary viciousness.
Barnaby was so intent upon his favourite, that he was not at firstaware of the approach of two persons on horseback, who were ridingat a foot-pace, and coming straight towards his post. When heperceived them, however, which he did when they were within somefifty yards of him, he jumped hastily up, and ordering Grip withindoors, stood with both hands on his staff, waiting until he shouldknow whether they were friends or foes.
He had hardly done so, when he observed that those who advancedwere a gentleman and his servant; almost at the same moment herecognised Lord George Gordon, before whom he stood uncovered, withhis eyes turned towards the ground.
"Good day!" said Lord George, not reining in his horse until he wasclose beside him. "Well!"
"All quiet, sir, all safe!" cried Barnaby. "The rest are away-theywent by that path--that one. A grand party!"
"Ay?" said Lord George, looking thoughtfully at him. "And you?"
"Oh! They left me here to watch--to mount guard--to keepeverything secure till they come back. I"ll do it, sir, for yoursake. You"re a good gentleman; a kind gentleman--ay, you are.
There are many against you, but we"ll be a match for them, neverfear!"
"What"s that?" said Lord George--pointing to the raven who waspeeping out of the stable-door--but still looking thoughtfully, andin some perplexity, it seemed, at Barnaby.
"Why, don"t you know!" retorted Barnaby, with a wondering laugh.
"Not know what HE is! A bird, to be sure. My bird--my friend-Grip."
"A devil, a kettle, a Grip, a Polly, a Protestant, no Popery!"
cried the raven.
"Though, indeed," added Barnaby, laying his hand upon the neck ofLord George"s horse, and speaking softly: "you had good reason toask me what he is, for sometimes it puzzles me--and I am used tohim--to think he"s only a bird. He"s my brother, Grip is--alwayswith me--always talking--always merry--eh, Grip?"