Chapter V: Philip De Lancaster sets out upon his Travels

When De Lancaster had reseated himself in his chair, and devoted a few minutes to meditation, the door of his library was opened, and our young hero respectfully approached him to receive his welcome and embrace.

What brings thee hither, John De Lancaster? said the grandfather.

My father sent for me.

That’s true; that’s true. He would take his leave of you before he sets out upon his journey to the south of France. An opinion has prevailed that your mother must winter in a warmer climate, and your father is going to make preparations for her residence at Montpelier. Upon these occasions I do not chuse to interpose: he will follow his own fancy, and that is about as likely to lead him to Jerusalem as to Montpelier: and your mother, John, your mother, never will go hence but to her grave. Nature is in absolute decay; her vital powers are exhausted, and Llewellyn either knows her inability to undertake the journey, or is blockhead enough to believe it practicable, and knows nothing of his business. You will say, why do I not dissuade your father from setting out upon this fruitless journey? I answer, because it is not worth my while; for whom does it concern in what spot of earth upon this habitable globe a listless creature doses out unprofitable time? Let him go, let him go; I rest no further hopes on him. The tree, which emblematically bears the fortunes of my house, is withering at the top, dead in its middle branches, whilst there is yet one scyon, that has life and vigour: Yes, my child, I am passing away; thy father is gone by, but thou, with the blessing of providence, art springing up and bursting into bloom, I have thy tutor’s testimony strongly vouched in thy favour, and with rapture I contemplate the auspicious promise of those dawning virtues, which in the riper character of the man will be the ornament and safe-guard of our ancient stock. And now, John, I must apprise thee of an affair, that will put those virtues to the test. Some neighbouring gentlemen, who are amongst the chief supporters of the Owen interest, have this morning been with me to enquire into the circumstances of Sir David’s treatment of you in the matter of the horse bequeathed to you by your godfather; and they are determined to call upon you and Davis for your evidence, that they may sift it to the bottom.

With all my heart, cried John, the colour mounting to his cheeks. I desire nothing better than to meet Sir David Owen face to face, and depose what I know of that rascally transaction in the most public manner before all his friends, be they who they may.

Hold, hold, my child, said De Lancaster, you must not forget how much modesty and forbearance become your years. You must put all angry thoughts aside, when you are called upon to speak the truth without prejudice or animosity; and that you may be kept in mind of that duty, I shall desire your worthy tutor to accompany you to that discussion.

I hope you will not think that necessary, John replied, for if I have nothing to do but to speak the truth, I trust I do not want a tutor to teach me that.

Go then, said De Lancaster; be it as thou sayest! for I perceive the spirit of my race, which has passed over thy father, descends upon thee. Go, when thou art called for; but remember, truth must not be told with aggravation, nor in our resort to justice must we gratify revenge.

At this moment Mr. Philip De Lancaster walked into the room, and addressing himself after his cool manner to his son--You are come just in time, he said, for I have taken leave of your mother, and have nothing to do but to pay my duty to my father, and set out upon my journey. I leave you in the care of such good friends, that you stand in no need of any advice from me; and, if you did, I know not what else I could say to you, but to recommend it to you to be a good boy, to pay attention to your tutor, to carry yourself dutifully to your grandfather, mother and aunt, to recollect that you are but a child in age and understanding, and in a word to mind your book and say your prayers. Now go up to your mother; she expects you in her bed chamber; tread softly, (do you mind) and be careful of alarming her, for, though she bore parting from me with perfect tranquillity, the least noise will shake her nerves, and throw her into tremors.

I shall observe your caution, sir, the youth replied; but if it is your pleasure that I should attend upon you again before you take your departure, I will simply pay my duty to my mother, and wait upon you to your carriage.

No, no, child, cried the father, there is no occasion for that ceremony. I don’t wish any body to attend upon me to my carriage, but the servant, that goes with me.

The disappointed youth cast a parting look of sensibility on his father, bowed respectfully and left the room.

I perceive, son Philip, said the old gentleman, that, nearly allied as you are to my grandson John, you are not acquainted with his manly character, when you talk to him as to a child--but of this we will say no more--so long as I have life his education will be my care, and at my death it will be found I have not been less careful of his interest. You are now going to the continent, and I sincerely wish you health and a pleasant tour; but if you calculate upon Mrs. De Lancaster’s chance of ever reaching Montpelier, I greatly fear you will be disappointed, and I therefore recommend it to you to postpone providing an establishment for her there or elsewhere, till you are further advised from us. Your equipage I see is waiting, and nothing remains for me, but to bid you heartily farewell.

This said, they both rose, embraced and parted never to meet again.