Читать книгу Quintus Servinton - Henry Savery - Страница 13

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"A schoolboy! you've heard my artless tale,

'Tis a true picture of my simple life."

KNOX

Perhaps, take it altogether, the day that saw Quintus in possession of this, the long sought object of his ambition, was one of the happiest of his life. He had now entered his seventeenth year—had nearly attained his full stature; was at the head of the school—a favourite with his masters, and beloved by his relations—towards whom in return, he entertained the most sincere affection. In person, he was fair, and tolerably proportioned; exhibiting on his countenance, the lively cheerfulness of youth and excellent health, rendered agreeable by its animated expression, than by any particular regularity of features.

One of the consequences of his new honors, was a permission to extend his rambles around the delightful country that formed the neighbourhood of Rundleton, and thus by degrees, he became acquainted with many of the inhabitants, who, knowing that he was a Gentleman's son, and aware of his recent success, paid him many little friendly attentions, and generally greeted him with a welcome, whenever they met. Another was that, in pursuance of his father's desire, he was a good deal placed under the charge of Mr. Thrifty, the steward, whom he accompanied to the different fairs and markets which he attended in the way of business, becoming in many other respects, a sort of assistant to him. From step to step, he thus acquired so tolerable a knowledge of the routine of one of these journies, that he was sometimes entrusted to undertake them alone; and altogether, he seemed to offer fair promise, of becoming a shrewd, active man of business.

But, if the increased liberty and indulgence, he was thus permitted, served in a measure to promote his father's favourite object for him, it produced other effects, not perhaps at first calculated upon, but, under all circumstances, by no means extraordinary. Among the neighbouring residents, between whom and Quintus, a familiarity now sprung up, was a small farmer of the name of Lademan, who was, to use a homely phrase, "pretty well to do in the world," and whose family consisted of his wife, two sons, and three daughters; all of whom were brought up to honest industry, and if the sons were perhaps the best ploughmen in the county, none could excel the mother or daughters, in all the mysteries of the farm-yard or dairy. They resided on a small estate of their own, about half a mile from the village, and rented a larger farm close adjoining. The extreme neatness of their cottage, and its little garden with its plashed hedges and fanciful flower beds, well stocked with roses, holly-hocks, pinks, and various other showy flowers, set off by the good order of every thing around, had often taken Quintus's attention, being precisely the sort of thing that had ever pleased his fancy; and now becoming as he had, a good deal his own master, farmer Lademan's pretty garden oft had him for a visitor. But, if his youth and inexperience led him to believe that it was the pleasure of admiring the beautiful flowers the garden contained, or, if at other times, the idea of witnessing Tom's adroitness with the scythe, or his brother's skill in handling the plough, served as the imaginary loadstone to his steps, a fairer flower by far than any in the garden, a more interesting piece of rurality than either of the young men's labour, existed in the person of the youngest daughter, Bridget, a girl of his own age, and who, although unconsciously to himself, had enslaved his young and ardent heart.

In very truth, Nature had bestowed upon her, an ample share of those charms, from the influence of which, even mature age and staid experience, are no protections; and it was no wonder therefore, that such a youth as Quintus, in the morning of his days, sanguine by nature, and elated by his recent advancement, should have yielded to their power, with all the fervour of a boy's love. She was of delicately fair complexion, shaded by long luxuriant tresses of light brown hair; her features were regularly formed, but rather pretty than handsome; her eyes, of a darkish blue, and very expressive; and the symmetry of her form and figure, just ripening into womanhood, was of the highest order.

Such was Bridget Lademan; and if, on her part, she had compelled Quintus to acknowledge the force of her attractions, drawing him, under some excuse or other, to be a daily visitor at her father's cottage, the many little attentions and marks of preference which, without any particular meaning, he invariably paid her, rendered his society a reciprocal pleasure.

Without understanding the real nature of their mutual feelings, an intercourse of this nature was continued for some time, Quintus never venturing any expressions beyond friendly intimacy, nor she, perhaps, better informed than himself, with what neither of them would have misunderstood, had their experience in life, been less limited. But her quick-sighted mother saw clearly how the land lay—she knew that it would be the extreme of folly to encourage the youthful attachment, that was evidently forming; she perceived that neither of the pair was at present acquainted with the state of their hearts; and her prudence whispered to her, "ne reveillez pas le chat qui dort." She determined therefore, to adopt some prompt and decisive measure, that should nip the flower in its bud, ere an explanation could take place; but so careful and circumspect was she, that even to her dear, good man, her discovery was not imparted, although doubtless, had it been so, he would, as in duty bound, have quietly and submissively yielded to her superior rule, and not have ventured to ask any questions.

Thus veiling her intended movements in secresy, one evening as all the family were assembled, the girls spinning or at their needle, and the young men enjoying their pipe and the brown jug of home brewed stingo, Dame Lademan asked her eldest son, whether Smiler could be spared the next day; adding, that she wanted to go and pay a visit to her sister, who lived five miles distant. She well knew what the answer would be, as none of the farm operations were ever undertaken without her control, or sanction. So soon therefore, as she had received the "Yees mother, for Dick and me's going a thrashing the woats," she turned to Bridget, and said—"Well Bridget, dear, you and I'll go and see sister Nanny; Smiler carries double, and I'll ride on the pillion, and so we shall not stop any work by taking one of your brothers."

The girl was taken by surprise, and coloured greatly, for she had heard her brother ask Quintus, to come and see the fun of opening the oat stack, as they were to have ferrets and terriers to hunt the rats they expected to find, and she felt a great reluctance to lose the pleasure she had anticipated. Presently, however, she replied, "Law! mother, take me! why not let Betsey go? she is older than me."

"I take you, Bridget, because your aunt particularly wants to see you, and it is your turn, as Betsey was there a little while ago. Come, go to bed girls now, and be ready to start, dear, by six in the morning."

This was the first time Bridget had ever felt the indescribable pain of separation from an object, to whom, although unconsciously, she was attached. She could not help wondering what made her so loth to undertake an excursion, which had hitherto always given her pleasure,—but, when amongst other ideas, the image of Quintus flitted before her, she might have been undeceived, had she been less the child of simplicity and innocence, than she really was. After a restless night, she awoke at daybreak, and Smiler, bearing the sidesaddle and pillion, being brought to the door, the mother and daughter took their departure, purporting, as they said, to return in the evening.

Nevertheless, nothing was farther from the good dame's intention, than either to visit aunt Nanny, or to let her daughter return, as the girl expected. They proceeded, it is true, to the aunt's residence, but Mrs. Lademan knew perfectly well, that none of the family would be at home—as she was sufficiently acquainted with their movements, not to be ignorant that they were all to be present at a wedding, on that morning, in quite another direction. When therefore they reached the house, and found this the case, Bridget inwardly rejoiced, pleasing herself with anticipating their return home by the time her brothers had told Quintus the stack would be opened. Under this idea, she was turning Smiler's head towards Rundleton as a matter of course, and was preparing to switch her right shoulder with all her might, as a stimulus to mend her usual steady-going pace, when her mother said, "Well, my dear, as we have come so far, it sha'nt be for nothing: we will go and see uncle Humphrey—come, my child, jog on a little, else we may be late."

A word from the good dame, was always sufficient, either with husband, sons or daughters. She governed absolutely, yet mildly; she never argued, but met any opposition to her will by silence; and, when she had heard all that could be alleged, forthwith proceeded to carry into effect, in her own way, whatever she though proper. It was a little stretch for Bridget, to have ventured the opinion and expressions that had escaped her, the preceding evening—but she knew better than to repeat the experiment, and assuming all her natural grace and cheerfulness, she presently, although most unwillingly, obeyed her mother's will.

Uncle Humphrey was one of farmer Lademan's brothers, and like him, a worthy, respectable yeoman. He resided upon an extensive farm, situate about five miles from their present spot; and it was nearly the same distance from Rundleton; the latter place forming the centre of a sort of circle, part of the circumference of which, comprehended the other two places; or rather perhaps, the three, formed a right angled triangle.

Although the good dame had wisely kept her own counsel, uncle Humphrey's wife, between whom and herself, there had always been a good understanding, had arranged with her the whole affair, on the last market day at Oswestry, including also, a plan of ulterior proceedings, if necessary. The two matrons thought, perhaps wisely enough, that Quintus, missing his fair favourite longer than he expected, might find his way to aunt Nanny's in quest of her, as he would be certain to learn from her brothers or sisters, that she had gone thither; and in chusing the day they had for her departure, it had been part of their scheme, that the clue to her real destination should be lost, by the absence of the family in consequence of the wedding; as they would thus be unable to answer any enquiries that might be made by him, with respect to where the treasure had been planted. So well indeed, was their secret kept, that until afterwards, when she imparted it, and its motive, to her husband, not a hint had been divulged; but farmer Lademan was scarcely so complaisant upon this occasion, as was usual with him, when he happened to differ in opinion with his wife; and he received a severe curtain lecture for venturing to remark with all a father's partiality, "you might as well have left them to themselves, for all I can see. Biddy is a good girl, and a pretty one; and fit for him, or any other squire's son in the kingdom, and I daresay he thinks her so."

Upon reaching uncle Humphrey's, a most hospitable reception awaited them, and the whole party seemed quite happy and delighted. Bridget ceased to think farther for the moment, of the oat stack and the associations connected with it, her mind adopting the idea that, perhaps Quintus might be in the four acre pasture the next morning at milking time, as sometimes was his custom, when he picked nosegays or gathered wild fruits, which he always offered to her, in preference to her sisters.

Here again, she was doomed to be disappointed. After some time had elapsed, and as the hour for departure seemed approaching, uncle Humphrey's wife earnestly pressed her visitors to stay with them a few days, promising if they would, that she would accompany them to Rundleton the next week, and return the visit. Dame Lademan and her sister in-law had previously settled all this—and consequently the latter was fully prepared to fall into the "mezzio terzo," or middle course, afterwards proposed, by which it was agreed that Bridget should remain with her aunt a few days, and that her mother should ride home alone.

"Law! mother, don't leave me here! there's not a soul to speak to, and I shall be moped to death," exclaimed the poor girl, paying little regard to her aunt's presence, or to the want of courtesy, the speech exhibited.

"There's no fear of that, child," replied the prudent mother. "You can help your aunt to do fifty things, and we can't refuse her kind invitation, particularly as it will be the means of her coming to us next week."

"But I have no clothes," answered Bridget, willing to make any excuse, that had the least chance of rendering nugatory her mother's intention—for she well knew that, unless some insurmountable obstacle could be suggested, opposition to a command once issued, was useless.

"Leave that to me, my dear, you shall have plenty of clothes," and then requesting that Smiler might be saddled, the mother added, in a tone not to be misunderstood, "I'll leave the pillion for your use next week."

Presently afterwards she took leave, charged by her daughter with numberless kind messages to her brothers and sisters; nor could she help saying, just at the last moment, "If Mr. Quintus asks where I am, please to tell him; but don't say I shall be home next week."

The subtilty of this speech, confirmed the good dame in the propriety of the step she had taken. She saw clearly, that her daughter expected Quintus would find his way to her present habitation; and she determined the more firmly, to counteract his youthful attachment, by every means in her power.

Nothing was again farther from the real intentions than what was expressed, with regard to the ensuing week, nor was there any thing meant to be more studiously concealed from Quintus, than where Bridget was staying. Nevertheless, the two matrons carried on the farce with great apparent sincerity, and after numerous "Good bye's, sister, we shall be with you next week—love to dear brother and all at home," and other usual adieus dame Lademan mounted old Smiler, and returned alone to Rundleton.

Meanwhile, Quintus attended at the hour that had been named for opening the stack, but discovered that a certain something was missing, to fill up the measure of enjoyment he had anticipated, and that the promised amusement passed off vapidly in the extreme. He did not like to ask where Bridget was, and yet he wondered why he did not see her. At length, one of her sisters said, "Why what's the matter with you, to day, Mr. Quintus? you can hardly say, 'Bo to a goose.' I shall make mother and Bridget laugh finely, when they come home, by and bye, by telling them how mopish you have been all day."

"Where are your mother and Bridget then?" replied Quintus.

"Gone to spend the day at Southwood, but they will be home in the evening."

Quintus now partly discovered what had made the forenoon appear so dull; and shortly afterwards, excusing himself that he had something particular to do, took up his hat, and bent his way to the rectory.

Early the next morning, he contrived to be in the four acre pasture at an early hour, but it was only to be disappointed, and to learn that the mother had returned alone, leaving her daughter to come home the following week. This intelligence was any thing but agreeable—he became fidgetty and restless—unable to account for his altered feelings, his former haunts and pursuits lost their relish; and in a fit, partly of peevish disappointment, and partly of assumed fortitude, he applied very closely to his studies; and having been always an admirer of Terence, commenced a translation of one of his comedies, in blank verse. But, in the midst of this new mode of passing his ample leisure, an incident arose, which brought him forward in a new character, and both Bridget Lademan and Terence, were for the moment, nearly forgotten. One of the scholars, whose friends resided at Liverpool, a youth of a wayward, idle disposition, and who had made very little progress in his learning, was discovered to be missing at one morning's muster roll; nor, could any other tidings of him be obtained, than that, he had last been seen in his place at bed time, the preceding evening. At the usual call of "All in," after breakfast, Richard Trotter was still "non est inventus," and Dr. Simpson sending for Quintus, desired him to proceed to Oswestry, accompanied by one of the servants, and to enquire if the absentee had been seen or heard of, in this direction, as it was conjectured, that he had ran away from school, and was most probably on the road to Liverpool. They accordingly set off on foot; but, if Dr. Simpson intended that their journey should terminate at Oswestry, as his words implied, Quintus, from the first, conceived a very different idea, and thought it would be an excellent opportunity of seeing two towns, of which he had heard so much, as Chester and Liverpool. He said nothing to the servant of his intention, meaning, if he were able, to make this, his interpretation of Dr. Simpson's orders, rather to appear to arise from circumstances, as they might occur, than as a previously fixed scheme, and upon reaching Oswestry, the information he obtained, seemed to favor his design, as he learnt that the runaway had been seen there shortly after day-break, and had proceeded onwards, with the Chester carrier.

"We must follow him directly," said Quintus, "and we shall be sure to overtake him before he reaches Chester."

"Follow him, master Quintus?" replied Ralph, "the Doctor only told us to go to Oswestry."

"That was to learn if we could obtain any tidings of him. If we had not heard of him, it might have been one thing, but as we know where he is, it is quite another."

"We have nought to travel with, that I knows of," replied the servant, "for I hav'nt no money, and you told me just now, as how you could not let me have a pint of beer."

"That's no matter at all," said Quintus, who, in point of fact, had only two or three shillings in his pocket, and which circumstance had led him to refuse the pint of beer, the man had requested, wisely thinking it would be more wanted, ere the day was over.

"Whatever you may do master Quintus, I won't walk fifty miles, with a hungry belly, and an empty pocket, and so, if you chuse to go you can; but I shall be homeward bound at once."

"Only think, Ralph, what harm it might do the Doctor at Liverpool, whence he has so many scholars, if Trotter should reach home and tell a parcel of lies. It may make him lose several of them."

"That's nought to me, Master Quintus.—If I can't get a pint of beer, and summat to eat, when I be a hungred, I'll be damned if I'll go another mile, that's flat."

Quintus by no means wanted Ralph to accompany him. He knew full well that, there would be no difficulty in overtaking the carrier, long before he could reach Liverpool; but this would not have suited his purpose, and he was rather desirous of getting rid of such a restraint, as the servant would have been upon his movements, not forgetting either, that with a slender purse, one mouth was easier to provide for than two. He therefore made little serious objection to the man's determination to return, and writing a few lines to the Doctor, to say that, having traced the runaway, and ascertained him to be a few miles ahead, he thought he might do so much mischief by his misrepresentations, that he was following him, and that he did not intend to return until he had overtaken him, he dismissed Ralph, and proceeded on his journey.

Pursuing his route, he started for Wrexham, with a heart as light as his pocket; and after four hours fast walking, the beautiful church-tower, for which that place is remarkable, met his eye, at a moment, when he was beginning to need some little rest. Upon entering the town, he stopped at the first public-house of tolerable appearance he approached, fearing, lest he might pounce too suddenly upon his object of pursuit, and meaning there to make such enquiries, as might regulate his farther progress. Calling for some bread and cheese, and a glass of ale, they were presently placed before him by a shrewd-looking, bustling landlady, of whom he enquired, how long it was since Dixon, the Liverpool carrier had passed, and whether he stopped in that town or not?

Answering his question by another, she said, "What has such like as you to do with the Liverpool carrier, I trow? I'll warrant you, you be some lad, leaving a good home to go to sea, but take my advice, and go back again."

"Indeed 'tis no such thing," replied Quintus, "but I want to overtake Dixon's cart, for something very particular; and you shall see I tell you true, for I will call here again as I come back."

"Ah! well, 'tis no affair of mine," said the good woman. "I pity your poor mother an it be as I suspect, and you'll rue the day you did'nt take my advice, and you'll think of me, and 'll say so too."

Quintus was a boy affectionately disposed towards his parents and the suspicion thus conveyed, gave him pain; he therefore repeated with increased earnestness, his assurance that she was mistaken, assuming a tone of voice and expression, that greatly removed her apprehensions, and concluded by saying, "but you have not yet told me about the carrier; 'pon my honor, you may believe me."

"Make your mind easy anent that," she replied, "for you winna overtake him, this side of Chester, jog forwards as fast as you will; and he will leave it again for Liverpool, early to-morrow morning. He puts up at Chester, at the Black Bull in Long Lane."

"I thank you, my good mother," said Quintus, "I must needs be off, if that is the case, for I shall not have too much time to reach Chester, before it is dark. The Black Bull in Long Lane, you say! Well, I shall remember it, and when I return this way, you shall see that I am as good as my word in what I have told you." He then defrayed the expense of his frugal meal, which reduced his funds however, to a less sum than two shillings, and bidding adieu to the friendly hostess, recommenced his journey although nothing was farther from his intention, than to go nearer the Black Bull, than he could avoid.

The sun had now considerably passed its meridian, and Quintus having thirteen miles of dusty road yet to travel, pushed forward with recruited vigour, desirous, if possible, of accomplishing the distance before night fall. He had long been so much accustomed to pedestrian exercise, that bodily fatigue and he were strangers. Naturally strong and healthy, and habitually cheerful, a journey of thirty-two miles on foot, although not commenced until after nine o'clock of a hot spring morning, was not to him so formidable an undertaking as might have been imagined; on the contrary, he continued his way lightly and with spirit, nor was it until the first shades of dusk were perceptible on the horizon, that a thought entered his mind as to how he should manage for his night's accommodation. He was not very particular, provided he could obtain a clean lodging, and it occurred to him just as the dark red walls of Chester Cathedral were discernible at the extremity of the straight flat line of road he was treading that, as economy in husbanding his slender store of wealth, was absolutely necessary, he would seek accommodation for the night at a small farm house he observed at a short distance, standing in the midst of some well cultivated fields to the left, being well acquainted from what he had observed at Rundleton, with the hospitable character of the English farmer; and reconciled to the idea of a bread and milk supper by the best of all sauces, equally as to the chance of a clean straw bed, by the best of all narcotics. Perhaps too, a certain recollection of distant scenes, had its share in the imaginary charms of a farm house lodging, and helped to overcome a natural diffidence that might have made him fear becoming an intruder; but against this, the low state of his finances acted as a counterpoise, and at length determined him.

But he was destined to spend his evening in a very different manner to what he had been thus planning; for, just as he approached a gate, leading by a bridle road to the neat whitewashed dwelling that had attracted his notice, and was meditating what should be his apology for the liberty he was about to take, he observed a horse coming along the road without a rider, but saddled and bridled, and bearing a pair of heavily laden saddle bags. The animal was advancing in a very leisure manner, stopping every now and then, looking around, and then again moving forwards; and Quintus's curiosity being excited by so unusual a circumstance, he abandoned for a moment the idea of the farm house, and standing in the middle of the road, quietly waited until by its nearer approach, he might be able to render such assistance as might be required. The horse showed no disposition to avoid him, but on the contrary, allowed itself to be easily caught, when he proceeded to return with it towards the spot, where the apparent accident had occurred. After thus walking about a mile, he saw a gentleman sitting on the bank by the road side, as if unable to move, and whom he had no difficulty in rightly conjecturing to be the object of his search.

"I believe Sir," he said, as he advanced leading the animal, "I have been fortunate enough to catch your horse for you."

"By my soul have you," the stranger replied, "and I am obliged to you, my young gentleman, the d——d beast made a start at a stage coach as I was riding carelessly along, and losing my seat, here I am with a broken leg I'm afraid, or something pretty nearly as bad, for I cannot put my foot to the ground."

"Can I help you to remount Sir?" said Quintus.

"Why, thank ye, I suppose 'twont do to stay here, I must try what I can do, but I am damnably hurt. Are you a stranger my lad to these parts? you seem to be tired, and are but a youngish traveller I'm thinking."

"I belong to Dr. Simpson's school at Rundleton, near Oswestry," replied Quintus, "and am going on business for him to Liverpool."

"And in what part of the country may your friends reside, my boy?"

"At D——, Sir, my father is Mr. Servinton, the banker there."

"I know the name well, and I know D—— too. One good turn deserves another, so come along with me, and let me be your caterer at Chester to night; it's only a slight return for the service you have rendered me."

"I am much obliged to you, Sir; I was going to ask you to recommend me to an inn, for I was never here before; but I hope I shall not be any inconvenience to you."

"No, no! my young friend, no fear of that; but a d——d inconvenient business I might have found it to have been here all night, if you had not happened to come by when you did.—Come, I'll rest upon your shoulder, if you please, and try to mount the infernal brute, for I take it there'll be no other way of getting to Chester; and then we'll be jogging, and you shall have a skin full of the best of every thing to night, and be tucked up by the prettiest chamber-maid in the whole palatinate."

This unlooked for change in Quintus's prospects, could not be otherwise than agreeable. He assisted the traveller to get upon the saddle, and walking by his side, soon reached the massive gates of the town, and they presently entered upon one of its long, rambling streets, not however without an apprehension on the part of Quintus, that the sign of the Black Bull in Long Lane, might impart information, he was by no means desirous of acquiring. He did not quite like the idea of receiving the proffered civility at the hands of a stranger; but on the other hand, he looked upon the favor he was about to receive, rather in the light of an acknowledgment of a service he had rendered, than as the boon it really was; and besides, the temptations held out to his acceptance, after so many miles as he had travelled, were too strong to be declined. He did not think proper, however, to give the traveller an insight, either into the nature of his errand, or the low state of his pocket, or, indeed, into any thing farther connected with himself, than he had already explained; thereby evincing a degree of caution or circumspection, which he failed afterwards to manifest upon several much more important occasions.

In little instances of this nature, Quintus early displayed a certain property of the mind, called by some, management; by others, with perhaps more propriety, cunning; and which, if nourished and fostered by success, oft lays the seeds of many injurious qualities, verifying the truth of Pope's lines:——

"If good we plant not, vice will fill the place, And rankest weeds, the richest soil deface."

After proceeding together at a slow pace, through one or two streets, they stopped at the door of a large inn, and Quintus, looking up at the sign, felt greatly relieved at seeing a splendid representation of a Wheat Sheaf. No sooner had the traveller alighted, than he motioned Quintus to follow him, as, leaning upon the waiter he led the way, seemingly quite at home, along a narrow, dark passage, at the end of which, a door opened into a good sized room, half filled with people, some of whom were engaged in writing, some in reading newspapers, others lolling on the sofa, or in elbow chairs with their legs stretched out, completely at ease, and in one or two of the corners, were small tables, with bottles and glasses, affording opportunities for quiet and deep converse between persons, on subjects interesting only to all appearance, to themselves. Around the walls of the room, were hung on pegs, hats and great coats, and close to the wainstcoating, gig-boxes and cushions, portmanteaus, saddle-bags, &c. were huddled together in indiscriminate heaps.

The two strangers were greeted with a general exclamation, upon their entrance, "What! in the Devil's name, are you come back again, Selwell? Why, we thought you were at Wrexham long ago; and what young colt have you brought with you?" In reply, the gentleman whom Quintus had probably rescued from a night's lodging,

"The Heavens his curtains, and the earth his pillow,"

briefly explained the circumstances that had caused his return, and ended by introducing Quintus to the particular notice of the company. "The young gentleman must be both hungry and tired, walking so far," said an elderly traveller, who eyed him very attentively, and fancied he saw fatigue marked on his countenance; "I believe our greatest kindness to night, will be to order him a good supper, and then turn him over to cherry-cheeked Sally." "No bad move," said Mr. Selwell; and so indeed, thought Quintus himself; for, although the excitement of the present scene, had rallied his spirits, and for the moment, had counteracted his growing weariness, he found that he could scarcely shake off the inclination to sleep, that shortly suceeded his being seated in a hot, close room, and having fared but lightly throughout the day, the idea of a good supper was any thing but disagreeable. Whiling away an hour or two in this manner, he at length bade his new acquaintances good night, and was shortly wrapt in sweet forgetfulness.