The Castle Inn

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The Castle Inn, by Stanley John Weyman

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Title: The Castle Inn
Author: Stanley John Weyman
Release Date: April 5, 2004 [EBook #11918]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE CASTLE INN
BY
STANLEY J. WEYMAN
Author of "A Gentleman of France," "Under the Red Robe," "The House of the Wolf," etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
WALTER APPLETON CLARK
1898

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
A KNIGHT-ERRANT.
CHAPTER II.
A MISADVENTURE.
CHAPTER III.
TUTOR AND PUPILS--OLD STYLE.
CHAPTER IV.
PEEPING TOM OF WALLINGFORD.
CHAPTER V.
THE MEETING.
CHAPTER VI.
A FISH OUT OF WATER.
CHAPTER VII.
ACHILLES AND BRISEIS.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE OLD BATH ROAD.
CHAPTER IX.
ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON.
CHAPTER X.
MOTHER AND SON.
CHAPTER XI.
DR. ADDINGTON.
CHAPTER XII.
JULIA.
CHAPTER XIII.
A SPOILED CHILD.
CHAPTER XIV.
A GOOD MAN'S DILEMMA.
CHAPTER XV.
AMORIS INTEGRATIO.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE BLACK FAN.
CHAPTER XVII.
MR. FISHWICK, THE ARBITER.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PURSUIT.
CHAPTER XIX.
AN UNWILLING ALLY.
CHAPTER XX.
THE EMPTY POST-CHAISE.
CHAPTER XXI.
IN THE CARRIAGE.
CHAPTER XXII.
FACILIS DESCENSUS.
CHAPTER XXIII.
BULLY POMEROY.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CUTTING FOR THE QUEEN.
CHAPTER XXV.
LORD ALMERIC'S SUIT.
CHAPTER XXVI.
BOON COMPANIONS.
CHAPTER XXVII.
MR. FISHWICK'S DISCOVERY.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A ROUGH AWAKENING.
CHAPTER XXIX.
MR. POMEROY'S PLAN.
CHAPTER XXX.
A GREEK GIFT.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE INN AT CHIPPENHAM.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHANCE MEDLEY.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
IN THE CARRIAGE.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
BAD NEWS.
CHAPTER XXXV.
DORMITAT HOMERUS.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE ATTORNEY SPEAKS.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
A HANDSOME ALLOWANCE.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE CLERK OF THE LEASES.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE ANSWER WAS A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT AND A SHOT. 'TOMMY, WHO IS--THIS--FELLOW?' HE CRIED. 'YOUR LADYSHIP'S MOST HUMBLE SERVANT,' HE SAID. HE WOULD FALL SILENT IN JULIA'S COMPANY. 'AND DRINK HER, YOU ENVIOUS BEGGARS! DRINK HER!' ON THE THRESHOLD, ... STOOD MR. DUNBOROUGH.

THE CASTLE INN
CHAPTER I
A KNIGHT-ERRANT
About a hundred and thirty years ago, when the third George, whom our grandfathers knew in his blind dotage, was a young and sturdy bridegroom; when old Q., whom 1810 found peering from his balcony in Piccadilly, deaf, toothless, and a skeleton, was that gay and lively spark, the Earl of March; when bore and boreish were words of haut ton, unknown to the vulgar, and the price of a borough was 5,000l.; when gibbets still served for sign-posts, and railways were not and highwaymen were--to be more exact, in the early spring of the year 1767, a travelling chariot-and-four drew up about five in the evening before the inn at Wheatley Bridge, a short stage from Oxford on the Oxford road. A gig and a couple of post-chaises, attended by the customary group of stablemen, topers, and gossips already stood before the house, but these were quickly deserted in favour of the more important equipage. The drawers in their aprons trooped out, but the landlord, foreseeing a rich harvest, was first at the door of the carriage, and opened it with a bow such as is rarely seen in these days.
'Will your lordship please to alight?' he said.
'No, rascal!' cried one of those within. 'Shut the door!'
'You wish fresh horses, my lord?' the obsequious host replied. 'Of course. They shall be--'
'We wish nothing,' was the brisk answer. 'D'ye hear? Shut the door, and go to the devil!'
Puzzled, but obedient, the landlord fell back on the servants, who had descended from their seat in front and were beating their hands one on another, for the March evening was chill. 'What is up, gentlemen?' he said.
'Nothing. But we will put something down, by your leave,' they answered.
'Won't they do the same?' He cocked his thumb in the direction of the carriage.
'No. You have such an infernal bad road, the dice roll,' was the answer. 'They will finish their game in quiet. That is all. Lord, how your folks stare! Have they never seen a lord before?'
'Who is it?' the landlord asked eagerly. 'I thought I knew his Grace's face.'
Before the servant could answer or satisfy his inquisitiveness, the door of the carriage was opened in haste, and the landlord sprang to offer his shoulder. A tall young man whose shaped riding-coat failed to hide that which his jewelled hands and small French hat would alone have betrayed--that he was dressed in the height of fashion--stepped down. A room and a bottle of your best claret,' he said. 'And bring me ink and a pen.'
'Immediately, my lord. This way, my lord. Your lordship will perhaps honour me by dining here?'
'Lord, no! Do you think I want to be poisoned?' was the frank answer. And looking about him with languid curiosity, the young peer, followed by a companion, lounged into the house.
The third traveller--for three there were--by a gesture directed the servant to close the carriage door, and, keeping his seat, gazed sleepily through the window. The loitering crowd, standing at a respectful distance, returned his glances with interest, until an empty post-chaise, approaching from the direction of Oxford, rattled