Chapter VI: Devereux arrives at Kray Castle

When David Williams had concluded his lay and retired, Mr. De Lancaster gravely observed, that in ancient times prophecies and prayers and even laws were delivered in verse; then, turning to his grandson, he said, Let David’s vision be realized on the day that you are of age, and you and I, John, shall be two of the happiest of human beings--

Here he was interrupted by the entrance of a servant, who brought a letter; it was that, which Philip had sent by young Devereux as his introduction to the hospitalities of Kray Castle. A servant was dispatched by Devereux with it as he entered the park, and the old gentleman had barely time to read it to his family circle when the porter’s bell announced an arrival. John hastened to the hall door, as Devereux in his travelling equipage drove up, and received him with that natural cordiality, which, assuring him of his welcome, might be said to constitute friendship at first sight. When he presented him to his father, the good man had entered the hall, and, taking him by the hand, said--I have read the letter, Mr. Devereux, which you bring me from my son, and am proud of the honour you confer upon me. I beg you will consider this house as your own, and the longer stay you shall think fit to make in it, the happier we shall be. I know your noble family full well, and respect every branch of it. He then said aloud to his servants--See that proper care be taken of every thing belonging to Mr. Devereux, and be sure you let his people want for nothing: they are strangers to this country.

During the ceremony of introducing him to Cecilia and the rest of the family, in which Mr. De Lancaster was somewhat precise, young Devereux acquitted himself as a gentleman familiar with good company, gracefully and without embarrassment: in his person he was light and elegant, and in his countenance there was great expression, though not perfect symmetry of features: there was a quickness of intellect and of spirit in his eyes, that nobody could mistake.

He was speedily at his ease, and in answer to Mr. De Lancaster’s enquiries said, that he had been extremely lucky in a good passage by the pacquet, and not less so in his journey since his landing. He expressed himself highly pleased in the opportunity he now had of visiting his native country, for he was born and bred in Herefordshire, where his father had an hereditary property, and it was part of his business in England to look into the affairs of that estate.

To Cecilia’s question about her brother’s health he replied, that Mr. De Lancaster had received some slight hurt in the ship, that brought him over, and when he visited him at Buenos Ayres, had his leg upon a chair; but added with a smile that he believed he rested it merely from habit, as he observed, that he had the perfect use of it, whenever he had occasion to employ it.

That is so like him, said De Lancaster to Colonel Wilson--Aye, replied the colonel, I would not change my wooden leg for both his, if I made no better use of them than he does.

Is my father coming over, said young De Lancaster?

I believe not yet. He has friends at Cintra, and ’tis likely he may pass the winter there.

I hope, Mr. Devereux, the old gentleman observed, my son has the honour of being known to your father, and that it is in his family he forms his friendships.

I have no doubt it will be so, Devereux replied; but at present Mr. De Lancaster has formed no connexions but with a lady and gentleman, who I believe are neighbours of your’s, when they are at home. If I rightly understand Sir David Ap Owen, who is the gentleman I allude to, he has a considerable property in this county, and a handsome seat not far from hence.

Sir David Owen has a very antient and respectable station in this near neighbourhood, called Penruth Abbey, and a very considerable property in land about it. The lately deceased Sir Owen ap Owen was a worthy gentleman, lived hospitably, and was respected by his countrymen and neighbours: he was truly of a very antient stock, and I had the happiness to consider him as my particular and very good friend. Penruth Abbey is well worth your seeing, and if you have a wish to ride over, my servants shall attend upon you. I am sorry to say, that between our houses, since Sir Owen’s death, all intercourse is at an end.

Devereux bowed, and on that subject said no more. The conversation then took a general turn, till supper was served up by the orange-tawney liverymen in great feudal state, and Devereux, to whom these specimens of antient manners were extremely interesting, was in due time and order ushered to an excellent apartment, by Cecilia’s direction elegantly set out and provided with every thing, that was appropriate to his comfort and repose.

The next morning, after breakfast, he signified to John that he wished to have a few minutes in private with him. In a rustic building at the end of a walk, that winded though the ornamented ground, he delivered to our young hero the letter he was secretly encharged with from poor Philip--When he had read the letter, John said, there is matter in this letter, that concerns me nearly, and affects me deeply. Are the contents, so far as they relate to my father’s situation with the widow Ap Owen, known to you?

In some degree Devereux confessed they were not unknown to him. He had been informed by Sir David that Mr. De Lancaster had entered into an engagement for marrying that lady.

I would go to the farthest foot of land on the globe of earth, said John, to save him from that fatal, that disgraceful, that detestable connection. Rather would I see my father dead and in his coffin, nay, rather would I die myself, than see him married to that odious, that felonious woman.

You astonish me, cried Devereux; she must artfully have concealed her character from me, if it merits to be so described, which I must not presume to doubt of. And now, Mr. De Lancaster, since you have so far trusted to me by committing yourself to expressions of such abhorrence with respect to that lady’s character, I will, with your permission, confide to you the situation, in which I stand towards her son--Sir David Ap Owen has made proposals of marriage with my sister--(John started, and betrayed considerable agitation)--Yes sir, he has offered himself to my father, and it is solely upon that account I am come over to assure myself of particulars as stated by Sir David, touching the character, which he bears in his county, the family he is of, and the fortune he possesses. Now my father conceives, though for the present he is engaged in contracts as a trader, yet that he is intitled both by birth and property to be perfectly secured from any misrepresentation whatsoever, and I must freely confess we think there is some mystery about Sir David, and cannot divine his motive for deserting a fine place and property, so newly devolved upon him, and coming to Lisbon of all places in the world, unless upon the plea of health, which by no means seems to be the case either with his mother or himself. His pretensions, as he states them, are such as my father cannot reasonably oppose, and it does not appear, if we were satisfied as to all essential points of character and general conduct, that Sir David Ap Owen would be unacceptable to my sister, who, I must take the liberty to say, is qualified to look quite as high, as to this gentleman, who addresses her; and, having no flaw in her pretensions, has a right to expect that none such shall be found in his. In this predicament I stand, protector of a sister’s honour, and responsible for her happiness, which I am sure you will allow to be a serious and a sacred trust. If therefore you could bring your mind to put that repose in my honour, which, if you knew me better, I flatter myself you would not withhold, and would speak to me as friend to friend respecting this connection, you would confer the greatest favour possible on me and mine.

Sir, replied the gallant youth, (touched to the heart by the appeal now made to him, which brought to his recollection poor Ap Rees’s case) I have no doubt of your honour, and as I am determined to go over to the rescue of my father from his dangerous situation, you shall in the mean time hear nothing from me, or in my company, relative to Sir David, which I will not be ready to avouch in presence of your father to Sir David’s face, if you can bring him to the meeting. However, sir, as there are certain restrictions, which bear with extreme force upon me, and do not affect others equally able to satisfy your enquiries, I will instantly conduct you, if you have no objection to lengthen your walk, to a place, where every thing shall be made known to you by one, whose veracity cannot be questioned.