Boys and Girls From Thackeray | Page 9

of
Castlewood to himself; or between him and the housekeeper, Mrs.
Worksop, an old lady who was a kinswoman of the family in some
distant way, and a Protestant, but a staunch Tory and kings-man, as all
the Esmonds were. Harry used to go to school to Dr. Tusher when he
was at home, though the Doctor was much occupied too. There was a
great stir and commotion everywhere, even in the little quiet village of
Castlewood, whither a party of people came from the town, who would
have broken Castlewood Chapel windows, but the village people turned
out, and even old Sievewright, the republican blacksmith, along with
them; for my lady, though she was a Papist, and had many odd ways,
was kind to the tenantry, and there was always plenty of protectors for
Castlewood inmates in any sort of invasion.
One day at dawn, not having been able to sleep for thinking of some
lines for eels which he had placed the night before, the lad was lying in
his little bed waiting for the hour when he and John Lockwood, the
porter's son, might go to the pond and see what fortune had brought
them. It might have been four o'clock when he heard the door of Father
Holt's chamber open. Harry jumped up, thinking for certain it was a
robber, or hoping perhaps for a ghost, and, flinging open his own door,
saw a light inside Father Holt's room, and a figure standing in the
doorway, in the midst of a great smoke which issued from the room.
"Who's there?" cried out the boy.
"Silentium!" whispered the other; "'tis I, my boy!" holding his hand out,
and Harry recognised Father Holt. A curtain was over the window that
looked to the court, and he saw that the smoke came from a great flame
of papers burning in a bowl when he entered the Chaplain's room. After
giving a hasty greeting and blessing to the lad, who was charmed to see
his tutor, the Father continued the burning of his papers, drawing them
from a cupboard over the mantelpiece wall, which Harry had never
seen before.
Father Holt laughed, seeing the lad's attention fixed at once on this hole.
"That is right, Harry," he said; "see all and say nothing. You are faithful,

I know."
"I know I would go to the stake for you," said Harry.
"I don't want your head," said the Father, patting it kindly; "all you
have to do is to hold your tongue. Let us burn these papers, and say
nothing to anybody. Should you like to read them?"
Harry Esmond blushed, and held down his head; he had looked, but
without thinking, at the paper before him; but though he had seen it
before, he could not understand a word of it. They burned the papers
until scarce any traces of them remained.
Harry had been accustomed to seeing Father Holt in more dresses than
one; it not being safe, or worth the danger, for Popish priests to wear
their proper dress; so he was in no wise astonished that the priest
should now appear before him in a riding-dress, with large buff leather
boots, and a feather to his hat, plain, but such as gentlemen wore.
"You know the secret of the cupboard," said he, laughing, "and must be
prepared for other mysteries"; and he opened a wardrobe, which he
usually kept locked, but from which he now took out two or three
dresses and wigs of different colours, and a couple of swords, a military
coat and cloak, and a farmer's smock, and placed them in the large hole
over the mantelpiece from which the papers had been taken.
"If they miss the cupboard," he said, "they will not find these; if they
find them, they'll tell no tales, except that Father Holt wore more suits
of clothes than one. All Jesuits do. You know what deceivers we are,
Harry."
Harry was alarmed at the notion that his friend was about to leave him;
but "No," the priest said, "I may very likely come back with my lord in
a few days. We are to be tolerated; we are not to be persecuted. But
they may take a fancy to pay a visit at Castlewood ere our return; and,
as gentlemen of my cloth are suspected, they might choose to examine
my papers, which concern nobody--at least not them." And to this day,
whether the papers in cipher related to politics, or to the affairs of that

mysterious society whereof Father Holt was a member, his pupil, Harry
Esmond, remains in entire ignorance.
The rest of his goods Father Holt left untouched on his shelves and in
his cupboard, taking down--with a laugh, however--and flinging into
the brazier, where he only