At length he came downstairs, wiping his greasy mouth, and having paid
John Willet's bill, climbed into his saddle. Lord George, who had been
walking up and down before the house talking to himself with earnest
gestures, mounted his horse; and returning old John Willet's stately
bow, as well as the parting salutation of a dozen idlers whom the rumour
of a live lord being about to leave the Maypole had gathered round the
porch, they rode away, with stout John Grueby in the rear.
If Lord George Gordon had appeared in the eyes of Mr Willet, overnight,
a nobleman of somewhat quaint and odd exterior, the impression was
confirmed this morning, and increased a hundredfold. Sitting bolt
upright upon his bony steed, with his long, straight hair, dangling
about his face and fluttering in the wind; his limbs all angular and
rigid, his elbows stuck out on either side ungracefully, and his whole
frame jogged and shaken at every motion of his horse's feet; a more
grotesque or more ungainly figure can hardly be conceived. In lieu of
whip, he carried in his hand a great gold-headed cane, as large as any
footman carries in these days, and his various modes of holding this
unwieldy weapon--now upright before his face like the sabre of a
horse-soldier, now over his shoulder like a musket, now between
his finger and thumb, but always in some uncouth and awkward
fashion--contributed in no small degree to the absurdity of his
appearance.
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