Mr. Jinks looked again, significantly, at the host.
That gentleman had not lost a word of the conversation, and his sleepy eyes now opened. He beckoned to Mr. Jinks. A smile illumined the countenance of the worthy--the landlord was a German;--the plot against Irish O'Brallaghan was gaining strength.
The landlord rose, and, with a significant look, entered the house, followed by Mr. Jinks, who turned his head, as he disappeared, to cast a triumphant look upon Ralph.
No sooner had he passed from sight, than Ralph turned to Verty, who had sat quietly upon Cloud, during this colloquy, and burst into laughter.
"That is the greatest character I have ever known, Verty," he said; "and I have been amusing myself with him all the morning."
Verty was thinking, and without paying much attention to Ralph, smiled, and said:
"Oh, no--only thinking," said Verty, smiling; "I can't get out of the habit, and I really don't think I heard you. But I can't stop. Here's a note Redbud asked me to give you--for Fanny. She said you might be going up to old Scowley's--"
"Might be! I rather think I am! Ah, Miss Redbud, you are a mischievous one. But why take the trouble to say that of the divine sex? They're all dangerous, scheming and satirical."
"Anan?" said Verty, smiling, as he tossed Ralph the note.
"Don't mind me," said Ralph; "I was just talking, as usual, at random, and slandering the sex. But what are you sitting there for, my dear Verty? Get down and come in. I'm dying of weariness."
"I must go and see Mr. Roundjacket," he said.
"I think not," he said; "but I don't know--I havn't much time; good-bye."
And touching Cloud with the spur, Verty went on. Ralph looked after him for a moment, twirled the note in his fingers, read the superscription,--"To Miss Fanny Temple,"--and then, laughing carelessly, lounged into the house, intent on making a third in the councils of those great captains, Mr. Jinks and the landlord.
We shall accompany Verty, who rode on quietly, and soon issued from the town--that is to say, the more bustling portion of it; for Winchester, at that time, consisted of but two streets, and even these were mere roads, as they approached the suburbs.
Roundjacket's house was a handsome little cottage, embowered in trees, on the far western outskirts of the town. Here the poet lived in bachelor freedom, and with a degree of comfort which might have induced any other man to be satisfied with his condition. We know, from his own assertion, that Roundjacket was not;--he had an excellent little house, a beautiful garden, every comfort which an ample "estate" could bring him, but he had no wife. That was the one thing needful.