For a long time he was very
sullen and suspicious, resenting the constant watch which
I kept upon him. This could not be relaxed, for he was
full of the most apish tricks. One day he got hold of my
tobacco pouch, and stuffed two ounces of my tobacco into
the long barrel of an Eastern gun which hangs on the
wall. He jammed it all down with the ramrod, and I was
never able to get it up again. Another time he threw
an earthenware spittoon through the window, and would
have sent the clock after it had I not prevented him.
Every day I took him for a two hours' constitutional,
save when it rained, and then we walked religiously for
the same space up and down the room. Heh! but it was a
deadly, dreary, kind of life.
I was supposed to have my eye upon him all day, with
a two-hour interval every afternoon and an evening to
myself upon Fridays. But then what was the use of an
evening to myself when there was no town near, and I had
no friends whom I could visit? I did a fair amount of
reading, for Lord Saltire let me have the run of his
library. Gibbon gave me a couple of enchanting weeks.
You know the effect that he produces. You seem to be
serenely floating upon a cloud, and looking down on all
these pigmy armies and navies, with a wise Mentor ever at
your side to whisper to you the inner meaning of all that
majestic panorama.
Now and again young Derwent introduced some
excitement into my dull life.
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