The Project Gutenberg EBook of Peregrine's Progress, by Jeffery Farnol #4 in our series by Jeffery FarnolCopyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloadingor redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do notchange or edit the header without written permission.Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of thisfile. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can alsofind out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts****eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971*******These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****Title: Peregrine's ProgressAuthor: Jeffery FarnolRelease Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7059] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was firstposted on March 3, 2003]Edition: 10Language: English*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEREGRINE'S PROGRESS ***This eBook was produced by Yvonne Dailey, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading TeamPEREGRINE'S PROGRESSBY JEFFERY FARNOLHe who hath Imagination is blessed or cursed with a fearful magic whereby he may ...
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Peregrine's Progress, by Jeffery Farnol #4 in our series by Jeffery Farnol
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**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
Title: Peregrine's Progress
Author: Jeffery Farnol
Release Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7059] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first
posted on March 3, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEREGRINE'S PROGRESS ***
This eBook was produced by Yvonne Dailey, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading TeamPEREGRINE'S PROGRESS
BY JEFFERY FARNOL
He who hath Imagination is blessed or cursed with a fearful magic whereby he may scale the heights of Heaven or
plumb the deeps of Hell
CONTENTS
ANTE SCRIPTUM
BOOK I—THE SILENT PLACES
I Introducing Myself
II Tells How and Why I Set Forth Upon the Quest in Question
III Wherein the Reader Shall Find Some Description of an Extraordinary
Tinker
IV In Which I Meet a Down-at-Heels Gentleman
V Further Concerning the Aforesaid Gentleman, One Anthony
VI Describes Certain Lively Happenings at the "Jolly Waggoner" Inn
VII White Magic
VIII I Am Left Forlorn
IX Describes the Woes of Galloping Jerry, a Notorious Highwayman
X The Philosophy of the Same
XI Which Proves Beyond All Argument That Clothes Make the Man
XII The Price of a Goddess
XIII Which Tells Somewhat of My Deplorable Situation
XIV In Which I Satisfy Myself of My Cowardice
XV Proving That a Goddess Is Wholly Feminine
XVI In Which I Begin to Appreciate the Virtues of the Chaste Goddess
XVII How We Set Out for Tonbridge
XVIII Concerning the Grammar of a Goddess
XIX How and Why I Fought with One Gabbing Dick, a Peddler
XX Of the Tongue of a Woman and the Feet of a Goddess
XXI In Which I Learned That I Am Less of a Coward Than I Had Supposed
XXII Describing the Hospitality of One Jerry Jarvis, a TinkerXXIII Discusses the Virtues of the Onion
XXIV How I Met One Jessamy Todd, a Snatcher of Souls
XXV Tells of My Adventures at the Fair
XXVI The Ethics of Prigging
XXVII Juno Versus Diana
XXVIII Exemplifying That Clothes Do Make the Man
XXIX Tells of an Ominous Meeting
XXX Of a Truly Memorable Occasion
XXXI A Vereker's Advice to a Vereker
XXXII How I Made a Surprising Discovery, Which, However, May Not
Surprise the Reader in the Least
XXXIII Of Two Incomparable Things. The Voice of Diana and Jessamy's
"Right"
XXXIV The Noble Art of Organ-Playing
XXXV Of a Shadow in the Sun
XXXVI Tells How I Met Anthony Again
XXXVII A Disquisition on True Love
XXXVIII A Crucifixion
XXXIX How I Came Home Again
TO THE READER
BOOK II—SHADOW
I The Incidents of an Early Morning Walk
II Introducing Jasper Shrig, a Bow Street Runner
III Concerning a Black Postchaise
IV Of a Scarabaeus Ring and a Gossamer Veil
V Storm and Tempest
VI I Am Haunted of Evil Dreams
VII Concerning the Song of a Blackbird at Evening
VIII The Deeps of Hell
IX Concerning the Opening of a Door
X Tells How a Mystery Was Resolved
XI Which Shows That My Uncle Jervas Was Right, After All
XII Tells How I Went Upon an Expedition with Mr. Shrig
TO MY PATIENT AND KINDLY READER
BOOK III—DAWN
I Concerning One Tom Martin, an OstlerII I Go to Find Diana
III Tells How I Found Diana and Sooner Than I Deserved
IV I Wait for a Confession
V In Which We Meet Old Friends
VI Which, as the Patient Reader Sees, Is the Last
ANTE SCRIPTUM
This is the tale of Diana, the Gipsy, the Goddess, the Woman, one in all and all in one and that one so wonderful, so
elusive, so utterly feminine that I, being but a man and no great student in the Sex, may, in striving to set her before you in
cold words, distort this dear image out of all semblance and true proportion.
Here and now I would begin this book by telling of Diana as I remember her, a young dryad vivid with life, treading the
leafy ways, grey eyes a-dream, kissed by sun and wind, filling the woodland with the glory of her singing, out-carolling the
birds.
I would fain show her to you in her swift angers and ineffable tenderness, in her lofty pride and sweet humility, passionate
with life yet boldly virginal, fronting evil scornful and undismayed, with eyes glittering bright as her "little churi" yet yielding
herself a willing sacrifice and meekly enduring for Friendship's sake.
With her should this book properly commence; but because I doubt my pen (more especially at this so early stage) I will
begin not with Diana but with my aunt Julia, my uncle Jervas, my uncle George and my painfully conscious self, trusting
that, as this narrative progresses, my halting pen may grow more assured and my lack of art be atoned for by sincerity.
For if any writer or historian were sincere then most truly that am I.
Therefore I set forth upon this relation humbly aware of my failings, yet trusting those who read will not fall asleep over my
first ineffectual chapter nor throw the book aside after my second, but with kind and tolerant patience will bear with me
and read bravely on until, being more at my ease, I venture to tell of Diana's wonderful self.
And when they shall come to the final chapter of this history (if they ever do) may they be merciful in their judgment of their
humble author, that is to say this same poor, ineffectual, unheroical person who now subscribes himself
PEREGRINE VEREKER.Book One
THE SILENT PLACESCHAPTER I
INTRODUCING MYSELF
"Nineteen to-day, is he!" said my uncle Jervas, viewing me languidly through his quizzing-glass. "How confoundedly the
years flit! Nineteen—and on me soul, our poor youth looks as if he hadn't a single gentlemanly vice to bless himself with!"
"Not one, Jervas, my boy," quoth my uncle George, shaking his comely head at me. "Not one, begad, and that's the
dooce of it! It seems he don't swear, he don't drink, he don't gamble, he don't make love, he don't even—"
"Don't, George," exclaimed my aunt Julia in her sternest tone, her handsome face flushed, her stately back very rigid.
"Don't what, Julia?"
"Fill our nephew's mind with your own base masculine ideas—I forbid."
"But damme—no, Julia, no—I mean, bless us! What's to become of a man—what's a man to do who don't—"
"Cease, George!"
"But he's almost a man, ain't he?"
"Certainly not; Peregrine is—my nephew—"
"And ours, Julia. We are his legal guardians besides—"
"And set him in my care until he comes of age!" retorted my aunt defiantly.
"And there, happy youth, is his misfortune!" sighed my uncle Jervas.
"Misfortune?" echoed my aunt in whisper so awful that I, for one, nearly trembled. "Misfortune!" she repeated. "Hush!
Silence! Not a word! I must think this over! Misfortune!"
In the dreadful pause ensuing, I glanced half-furtively from one to other of my three guardians; at my uncle Jervas,
lounging gracefully in his chair, an exquisite work of art from glossy curls to polished Hessians; at my uncle George,
standing broad back to the mantel, a graceful, stalwart figure in tight-fitting riding-coat, buckskins and spurred boots; at
my wonderful aunt, her dark and statuesque beauty as she sat, her noble form posed like an offended Juno, dimpled chin
on dimpled fist, dark brows bent above long-lashed eyes, ruddy lips close-set and arched foot tapping softly beneath the
folds of her ample robe.
"His misfortune!" she repeated for the fourth time, softly and as to herself. "And ever have I striven to be to him the tender
mother he never knew, to stand in place of the father he never saw!"
"I'm sure of it, Julia!" said my uncle George, fidgeting with his stock.
"His misfortune! And I have watched over him with care unfailing—"
"Er—of course, yes—not a doubt of it, Julia," said uncle George, fiddling with a coat button.
"His upbringing has been the passion of my life—"
"I'm sure of it, Julia, your sweet and—er—womanly nature—"
"George, have the goodness not to interrupt!" sighed my aunt, with a little gesture of her hand. "I have furthermore kept
him segregated from all that could in any way vitiate or vulgarise; he has had the ablest tutors and been my constant
companion, and to-day—I am told—all this is but his misfortune. Now and therefore. Sir Jervas Vereker, pray explain
yourself."
"Briefly and with joy, m'dear Julia," answered my uncle Jervas, smiling sleepily into my aunt's fierce black eyes. "I simply
mean that your meticulous care of our nephew has turned what should have been an ordinary and humanly promising,
raucous and impish hobbledehoy into a very precise, something superior, charmingly prim and modest, ladylike youngfellow—"
"Ladyli—!" My stately aunt came as near gasping as was possible in such a woman, then her stately form grew more
rigidly statuesque, her mouth and chin took on that indomitable look I knew so well, and she swept the speaker with the
blasting fire of her fine black eyes. "Sir Jervas Vereker!" she exclaimed at last, and in tones of such chilling haughtiness
that I, for one, felt very like shivering. There fell another awful silence, aunt Julia sitting very upright, hands clenched on the
arms of her chair, dark brows bent against my uncle Jervas, who met her withering glance with all his wonted impassivity,
while my uncle George, square face slightly flushed, glanced half-furtively from one to the other and