“Parbleu! my lord does not press himself,” Blaise says, with a grin; and, indeed, it seemed as if his lordship was not in a great hurry, for he spent three days on that journey which Harry Esmond hath often since ridden in a dozen hours.  For the last two of the days Harry rode with the priest, who was so kind to him, that the child had grown to be quite fond and familiar with him by the journey’s end, and had scarce a thought in his little heart which by that time he had not confided to his new friend.

At length, on the third day, at evening, they came to a village standing on a green with elms round it, very pretty to look at; and the people there all took off their hats, and made curtsies to my Lord Viscount, who bowed to them all languidly; and there was one portly person that wore a cassock and a broad-leafed hat, who bowed lower than any one—­and with this one both my lord and Mr. Holt had a few words.  “This, Harry, is Castlewood church,” says Mr. Holt, “and this is the pillar thereof, learned Doctor Tusher.  Take off your hat, sirrah, and salute Dr. Tusher!”

“Come up to supper, Doctor,” says my lord; at which the Doctor made another low bow, and the party moved on towards a grand house that was before them, with many gray towers and vanes on them, and windows flaming in the sunshine; and a great army of rooks, wheeling over their heads, made for the woods behind the house, as Harry saw; and Mr. Holt told him that they lived at Castlewood too.

They came to the house, and passed under an arch into a court-yard, with a fountain in the centre, where many men came and held my lord’s stirrup as he descended, and paid great respect to Mr. Holt likewise.  And the child thought that the servants looked at him curiously, and smiled to one another—­and he recalled what Blaise had said to him when they were in London, and Harry had spoken about his godpapa, when the Frenchman said, “Parbleu, one sees well that my lord is your godfather;” words whereof the poor lad did not know the meaning then, though he apprehended the truth in a very short time afterwards, and learned it, and thought of it with no small feeling of shame.

Taking Harry by the hand as soon as they were both descended from their horses, Mr. Holt led him across the court, and under a low door to rooms on a level with the ground; one of which Father Holt said was to be the boy’s chamber, the other on the other side of the passage being the Father’s own; and as soon as the little man’s face was washed, and the Father’s own dress arranged, Harry’s guide took him once more to the door by which my lord had entered the hall, and up a stair, and through an ante-room to my lady’s drawing-room—­an apartment than which Harry thought he had never seen anything more grand—­no, not in the Tower of London which he had just visited.  Indeed, the chamber was richly ornamented in the manner of Queen Elizabeth’s time, with great stained windows at either end, and hangings of tapestry, which the sun shining through the colored glass painted of a thousand lines; and here in state, by the fire, sat a lady to whom the priest took up Harry, who was indeed amazed by her appearance.